Meeting the Man: James Baldwin in Paris (1970) - full transcript

James Baldwin
agreed to make a film
about his life as a writer,

rather than
as a political figure.

Paris seemed
an obvious location,

as it was here that his career
as a successful writer began.

Several of his books
are set in Paris,

and he still spends
a lot of his time here.

Filming began normally enough.

Baldwin reminisced
about his original decision
to leave New York.

When and why
I was going to Paris.

When was November 11th, 1948.

It was a matter
of life or death.



You can't turn your back
in America long enough
to write a book...

or to find out who you are.

I had to be in
a desperate situation
to come so far, with $40.

I don't know how I lived.

I sold my clothes,
I remember that.

I sold my typewriter,
I remember that.

And some people got
very nasty with me because
I didn't have any money.

I hit the streets, of course.

I can't describe... Anyone who's
been there knows what I did.

And anyone who hasn't been,
I cannot tell, you know.

I don't know what I did.

I got through one day
to the next, for four years.

How I did it, I don't know.

No-one I knew had any money.



The great trial
was not to let my family know.

Because what could they do?

Except, you know,
just be scared shitless
that Jimmy was in trouble,

miles and miles away. They
couldn't do anything about it.

After shooting
began, Baldwin's attitude
started to change,

and he became less cooperative.

He did, however, agree to be
filmed in the Algerian quarter,

the Harlem of Paris.

I must say, the Algerians
were very nice to me

because they understood the city
and I did not.

I didn't know these streets.
And they protected me
in the streets.

And no-one else could.

The Algerian in France
is the nigger in America.

By now, Baldwin was saying

that he was no longer interested
in his work as a writer,

or his time in Paris.

He suddenly refused
to film sequences depicting
his present life here.

I'm not really back in Paris.

I'm not gonna stay here,
that I know.

Where do you think
we're sitting, in Paris,

next door to Washington?

My country runs the world,
owns the world.

As Mr Heath probably
will be glad to tell you.

I'm in a position in which
everyone in the world...

can claim me
and has the right to claim me.

I'm one of the very
few dark people in the
world...who have a voice.

That means something
which no white writer can mean

at this point
in the world's history,

and I can't really escape that.
I don't think I should even try.

By this time,
Baldwin was quite hostile to us

and had attracted a group
of Black American students

whom he wanted to accompany him
whenever he was filming.

One of them was particularly
dominant, and insisted,
with Baldwin's agreement,

that we filmed
at the Place de la Bastille,

symbol of the French Revolution.

Can you tell us
why we're here in this place?

Yes. People came out of those
streets, not very long ago,

to tear down this prison.

And my point is the prison
is still really here.

We build it all the time.

I'm speaking more about
my own country than
I'm speaking about France.

I represent, at this
moment, many political
prisoners in America.

That's why I wanted
to come here today.

Is that also why you...

I mean, you veered this film
off your literary work...

- What?
- You veered the film

off your literary work
and on to...

what you feel,
rather than what you write.

It isn't so much
what I feel, Terry,

it's what I know.

If my work is any good,
it will last.

I haven't got
to talk about that.

There's nothing
to be said about it.

But I do know
what is happening...now.

You know. I'm not so much
a writer as I'm a citizen.

And I've got to bear witness
to something which I know.

So, why won't you allow us

to project you through your work
instead of you as you...are?

I'm perfectly willing to, but I
don't see how you can do it.

You know?

Well, we had
a system, we had a scheme.

Yes.

And you obviously
weren't sympathetic to it.

That has nothing whatever to do
with something else,

which I represent
whether or not I like it.

I could be Bobby Seale.

I could be Angela Davis.

- But you couldn't.
- I could be Medgar Evers.

You couldn't,
because you...are a writer.

And that... What's the problem.
What are we doing wrong?

- Don't put any camera on me.
- What are we doing wrong?

You're telling me I'm doing...
Tell me.

- In the first place, you're not honest.
- - In what way?

All right.

I explained to you that we
wanted to do certain things
a certain way. Right?

- No, you didn't.
- Right.

We just talked about that
a few minutes ago...

- Explain it to me again.
- Right?

I told you that we were
gonna ask the brother
a question, right?

- Yeah.
Which we are.
- All right.

- And you agreed.
You didn't ask him.
- Yes, I did.

- Don't tell me your memory is that short.
- - I asked him.

Well, what was
the first question
you asked him?

You know
perfectly well,
I'm not getting into this.

- What was the first question
you asked?
- I asked him why he was here,

which is the question
we agreed to ask,
what the Bastille meant to him.

That wasn't the question
we agreed to ask him.

Yes, it was. All right,
tell me what it was and
I'll put it to him right now.

So, I told you to ask him, how
would he account for the fact

that the Bastille today
is still the most popular
monument in France?

- Right.
- Period.

That's not the same thing.

The question we've been
told to ask is why do you think

the Bastille is the most popular
monument in France today?

Well, it's not the most popular.

Then why I was told
to ask that question?

I mean, there is a significance
to this monument,

which I've asked you about.

Now, I've been challenged,
I've been criticised

and I've been told that I didn't
ask the question the right way.

So, how should I have asked it?

It's an honest question.

Terry,
I know what is happening here.

Well, what?
Tell us what's happening.

What is happening is that
he has something in his mind

and I have something
in my mind too...

which you don't quite see.

And now you're doing
something, you know,
rather against your will,

without quite
knowing what it is.

Look, I am not interested in
Jimmy Baldwin's Paris, right?

I'm not the least interested
in my 22 years in this city.

It's of no importance
at all, right?

What is important is I'm
a survivor of something
and a witness to something.

- That is what matters.
- Right.

And that is all that matters.

I'm not speaking for me.

I'm much too... I'm much
too proud, for one thing,
to speak for my own work.

My work will speak for itself,
or it won't.

But I am a Black man
in the middle of this century.

And I speak for that.

To all of you. The English, the
French, the Irish, all of you.

Because none of you know yet
who this dark stranger is.

None of you know it.

And that is what this quarrel
is really about.

I'm not at all
what you think I am.

I'm very different than that.

I have something else to do?

What exactly
do you think we think you are?

I think you think
that I'm an exotic survivor.

I don't know what Carl
was trying to say,
but I'm telling you this,

because he looks the way he
looks and for no other reason,

for no other reason,
he could be dead in the morning.

That isn't true of you,
any of you. It's true of him.

That is what
your civilization means

and that's what
you don't want to find out.

I've known boys like that all
my life. Half of them are dead.

Because they're Black.

So, now, you say that...
You say that and we could argue

that we do know that,
that we do know that

- and that's why we're here.
- Do you? Do you?

So, now how do you know
we don't know that?

Because of the way...
I know you don't know

because of the way
you talk to him.

I'm trying
to solicit something from him.

I'm trying to get him to
communicate with me in a
genuine way, which he isn't.

He's communicating with me
behind a barrier,

- which I don't...
- He has a life to lose,
you don't.

Yeah! And your books have
awakened us to that fact,

to the extent that we
wanted to come here
and make a film about it,

because that's our means
of communication.

All right, now we...

Okay. All right.
Now, we can start.

We had to get to this point,
before we get any further.

Well,
where do we go from here, then?

I would tell you, if I could,
I really would.

I know you would.
We would tell you if we could.

And you keep saying to me,
"You are making the movie,"

and I keep saying to you, "No,
we need you to make the movie."

That's what I'm trying
to tell you, is...

When they tore this prison down,

that was a great event
in European history.

And Europe understands that.

I am trying
to tear a prison down too.

That event doesn't yet occur,
in European imagination.

I am still, for Europe,
a savage.

When a white man
tears down a prison,

he is trying
to liberate himself.

When I tear down a prison,
I'm assumed to be turning
into another savage.

Because you don't understand...

that you, for me, my prison.

You are my warden.

I am battling you.

Not you, Terry.

But you, the English,
you, the French.

A whole way of life,
a whole system of thought...

which has kept me in prison
until this hour.

But why are we here?

You are trying to find out

and I'm telling you
what you don't know.

Do you want us to find out?

Yes! You'd better.

- You'd better.
- We have, as you say,

this complete lack
of communication

because we're, I'm attempting
to do something which you...

You seem like you already
know the answer.

And I'm trying to find
the answer and I'm trying
to show the answer.

I know. But I got to be able
to talk to somebody.

If you're gonna
get this movie done...

You've got
to talk to people, all right?

Is the mic on?

The talking,
with the students and others,

took place in the studio
of Beauford Delaney,

an old painter friend
of Baldwin's.

As the conversation progressed,

Baldwin's background as a
young Baptist preacher in Harlem

became very apparent.

All right, now,
Fay here's already told me

she hasn't read
any of James' books, right,

and I know that she's
only met him the other day.

So, I'm gonna ask her,

what does she think of him?

Being Black, I respected
him as a Black man,
especially as a Black writer,

and you're older than I am,

so I respected you, sort of
like I respect my parents.

And you've achieved
in the world.

Um...

You've gotten up... You've
made your name made to the...

You've made your name
known to the world.

Because I'm young.
I'm only 20 years old.

And you're so, like,
inspiration to young
Black people in America.

The first time I had
the opportunity of
reading your book,

Another Country, I believe,
this was quite some time ago,

but that was the first book
I ever read from cover to cover

and I haven't read another since

and, uh...

Really, and I still remember
the characters and everything.

And this is really
did a lot for me.

I know that, from my own point
of view, you know, it was...

it was, in a sense,
all for you. You know?

I mean, I know that I love you.

But...

you haven't necessarily
got to know that.

You know?

I suppose I never thought
that I would, um...

live...

to hear you say
that you love me.

That sounds very corny, but...

But you know what I mean.

In his essays,
if you've read them,

Jimmy does talk
about coming to Paris.

Is it possible for you to
talk to him about why you
individually left the States

and compare it
with why he left the States?

It ain't nobody else's business.

- Well, I'll tell you why.
- All right.

Because it's not relevant
to anyone but us.

It doesn't help anyone
or it doesn't hurt anyone.

We can talk about it,
but, like, we don't want
to talk to you about it.

I can
tell you something about it.

- Yes?
- Right.

The 20 years,
22 years from 1948 and 1971.

And speaking, you know,
speaking now as Jimmy, you know,

and speaking as a Black American
who was, you know,

who was once as young
as these children are now,

and why I left my country,

I left it because I knew
I was gonna be murdered there.

And I when I say that,
I'm not, you know, exaggerating,

that's not
a melodramatic statement.

I mean, that means that...

I mean that I could
not have hoped to live
if I had stayed there.

I come from a country
which is very proud
of calling itself a democracy

and is very proud
of what it calls progress.

And I'm pointing out to you...

that, 22 years later...

boys and girls
just like I was then...

in spite of all that democracy
and all that progress,

had to leave the country,
our country, for the same
reason that I left it.

1948, it was Truman
in the White House, right?

He'd just dropped
the bomb on Hiroshima.

And, in 1971,
there's who in the White House?

Dick Nixon.

Richard Milhous.

What do they expect from us?

- The darker brother?
- Right on, right on, right on.

I've had a hard life. You know?

Right on.

But, my dear...

No, really, I know it sounds
a terrible thing to say...

I would not be
a white American...

for all the tea in China.

All the oil in Texas.

I really wouldn't like
to have to live...

with all those lies.

Yeah.

This is what is irreducible
and awful.

You, the English, you,
the French, you, the West,
you, the Christians.

You can't help but feel
that there is something
that you can do for me.

That you can save me.

And you don't yet know...

that I have endured
your salvations so long,

I cannot afford it any more.

Not another moment
of your salvation.

But I'm not saying it's...

And that I...
I... I...

I can save you.

I know something about you.

Right on.
Tell him. Give it to him!

I know something about you.
You don't know
anything about me.

- Amen.
- Right on.

And that is where it really is.

You could find out like this.

It's a matter almost of a
division of - how can I put it?

- Division of labor.
- Division of labor, thank you.

He can do some things
that you can't do.

You can do some things
that he can't do.

I can do some things
that neither of you can do.

You know, I know I can't drive
a truck. And I can't run a bank.

- And I can't count.
- Right on.

You know. And I can't...
I can't lead a movement.

But I can fuck up your mind.

He can straighten up
your mind too.

What's gonna happen,
sooner or later, all the
wretched of the earth...

in one way or another...

next Tuesday
or next Wednesday...

will destroy the cobblestones

on which London
and Rome and Paris are built.

The world will change,
because it has to change.

And the Pope will die...

because the church
is a criminal church.

The party is over.

That is what is going to happen.

- Right on.
- Right on.

It was only
after this group witness

that Baldwin finally agreed
to talk personally

about his difficult position

as a political figure
and a creative writer.

After all, no-one asked me
to be a writer.

You know, I asked for it.

So, you know, I can't,
I can't really complain.

You know,
it comes with the territory.

I was born a certain time,
in a certain skin,
in a certain place.

And you pay for it.
Everybody pays for...that.

Do you think
you could describe yourself

as a revolutionary writer?

I don't know what I am.
I'm a writer in a
revolutionary situation.

I never thought of becoming
a revolutionary, after all.

You express your ideas

in terms of mental
transformation on the
part of white people.

How much do you think
your fictional work

is therefore stronger
than your essays?

In that they are
more subversive.

It's a leading question, and
it's impossible for anybody...

You know, I can't answer that.

I write the essays,
I write the books,

and what you make of them is...

What people make of those things
isn't up to me.

I know that, in principle...

um...

a play or a novel, if it works,

is much more dangerous,
for the writer and the reader.

It's much easier
to dismiss The Fire Next Time

as an argument with
which one can agree or
disagree, like a debate,

Whereas, in another country,

you're faced with some
very real human situations

with which no-one can not
identify in some way or another.

It depends on many things.

Many people can fail to
identify with the people
in another country.

In fact, they do.

You know, I mean,
in life, I mean, I'm not
talking about my book.

But, I mean,
everybody's been in love...

Has everyone been in love?

Everyone's had a love
which has been threatened,
don't you think that so?

Not on the basis
of the evidence.

If they have,
they've forgotten it.

You can't prove it by me,
that everyone's been in love.

If everyone had been
in love, they'd treat
their children differently.

They'd treat
each other differently.

Yes, well, perhaps
that is one of the points

in Another Country,
which, it seems to me,

is as much about love
as about anything else.

- It is about love.
- It's more...

It's about
the price of love, too.

Which is the price of life.

Yes. People don't
seem to realize that.

In a literal sense,
you're writing for white people.

Are you aware of that?

I'm writing for people, baby.

I don't believe in white people.

I don't believe in Black people
either, for that matter.

But I know the difference
between being Black
and white at this time.

It means that I cannot fool
myself about some things

that I could fool myself about,
if I were white.

But more white
people read your novels,
I believe, than Black people.

Well, Black people may not
read them, but they steal them.

They sell them,
they're hot, in bars.

You do spend a long time between novels.
Why is that?

Well, I'm that kind of writer.
There's no answer to that.

You know, some people write...
I wish I was Georges Simenon,

he can write them in two weeks,
but I can't.

And, you know, everybody works
the way he can work.

I must point out, though, too,

that I have been working,
the last few years,

between assassinations.

And that doesn't make it
any easier either.

I mean,
they're killing my friends.

It's as simple as that.

And have been all the years
I've been alive.

For no reasons which, you know,
which have any validity.

Why didn't you
just want to get away somewhere

and sit down and write
your books? Why don't
you want to do that?

Because I'm better than that.

But you don't
have to be better than that.

Oh, I do.

So, you don't agree, then,
I mean, when people say,
"Oh, it's okay for him.

"He's escaped"?

What have I escaped?

Where, anyway,
would I go to escape?

To your country?

Would I get a
political asylum here?

Where would
a fleeing Black man go...

if he wanted to escape?

There may not be, you know,

as much humanity in the world
as one would like to see,

but there is some.

There's more
than one would think.

In any case, if you...

if you break faith
with what you know...

that's a betrayal of many,
many, many, many people.

I may know six people,
but that's enough.

Love has never been
a popular movement

and no-one's ever wanted
really to be free.

The world is held together,
really it is, held together,

by the love and the passion
of a very few people.

Otherwise,
of course you can despair.

Walk down the street of
any city, any afternoon,
and look around you.

What you've got to
remember is what you're
looking at is also you.

Everyone you're
looking at is also you.

You could be that person.

You could be that monster,
you could be that cop.

And you have to decide,
in yourself, not to be.

The logic of despair isn't
for me. Cut your throat, right?

But there's something wrong,
you know,

with someone who says he's
in despair who keeps on writing.

Because a despairing
man doesn't write.

Anyway, it's too easy,
it's too fashionable.

I'm aware, you know,
that I and the people I love
may perish in the morning.

I know that. But there's
light on our faces now.

If you live under the
shadow of death, it gives
you a certain freedom.

I'm perfectly happy, odd as
it sounds, and relatively free.