The Ways of White Folks

Michael and Anne Carraway are two wealthy artists living in New York. They love taking in the music and art created by the Black communities in New York, but they do not believe in helping their neighbors in a philanthropic way. Their “appreciation” for Black culture and “kindness” toward Black people are tarnished by fetishization and demeaning opinions. When Michael and Anne meet Luther, Anne’s reaction is insensitive and crude: “‘He is the jungle,’ said Anne when she saw him” (20). Anne isn’t interested in learning about who Luther is as a person; she wants to use him to paint a tragic moment in history. Luther, to Anne, becomes an art prop more than a person. Michael, too, proves to be fickle and racist, despite claiming to a liberal-minded artist. When Luther stays on in their employment so Anne can finish her painting, Michael is less enthusiastic than Anne: “At least, Anne kept [Luther], although Michael said he was getting a little bored with the same Negro always in the way” (27). By the end, Anne’s painting is unfinished, and Michael’s mother rants and raves, showing that the Carraways’ behaviors are flawed and lead to bad outcomes. With the Caraways, Hughes shows the reader how even supposedly liberal or progressive intentions can be flawed and racist.

The Carraways also provide a wealthy perspective for Hughes’s commentary on class. They enjoy a privileged lifestyle and financial security. They go out often and have enough money to hire Luther and Mattie. They would rather spend their money on selfish pleasantries than try to leave a lasting positive impact: “They were people who went in for Negroes—Michael and Anne—the Carraways. But not in the social-service, philanthropic sort of way, no” (19). With their characters, Hughes shows that positive economic changes could be made with selfless and empathetic action, but problems arise when wealthy people like the Carraways don’t want to spend their money in that way. Hughes uses similar characters to the Carraways throughout the collection to create varied portraits of the flawed thinking of the rich.  

The main character of “Home,” Roy Williams is a talented musician. Roy loves his family dearly. Despite a successful music career in Europe, he returns home to be close to them when his health declines from a hemorrhage: “It was his illness that had made Roy come home, really. He had a feeling that he was going to die, and he wanted to see his mother again” (33). Roy does die, but not how he expected: He’s lynched by a mob. Ironically, Roy’s love for his family, and his desire to see his mother, lead to his death. With Roy’s lynching, Hughes demonstrates that a hard-working family man isn’t immune to the violence of racism.

Roy’s musicianship helps Hughes establish key motifs and themes used throughout the rest of the collection. Roy is the first main character to be a musician. His talent takes him to Europe, where he doesn’t feel ostracized for the color of his skin. Other characters, often musicians, travel to Europe and experience the same thing. Roy’s passion for music demonstrates how art might lead to a happier life. In The Ways of White Folks, that happier life tends to be in Europe for the Black characters. “Home” uses Roy to introduce these motifs, music and Europe, which Hughes revisits again and again. Momentarily, Roy’s music also unites the town: “When the concert was over, even some of the white folks shook Roy’s hand and said it was wonderful” (41). Roy dies in the end, but his musical ability hints at the important role art can play in uniting different people.

Roy’s selflessness also leads to vivid scenes about class and race in the South. Even with his declining health, Roy agrees to play a concert for the town. Playing, he sees everyone, regardless of race, as poor. It’s his hometown, but his time spent away allows him to see his old community from a new perspective. Roy’s return trip home also provides the catalyst for Hughes to give the reader vivid scenes of racism. Roy doesn’t directly comment on the racism he experiences, but his perspective still puts the reader into the middle of a racist town, allowing “Home” to become cautionary.  

An opportunist and con-man, Eugene Lesche exploits the rich in whatever way he can. Before becoming the New Leader of the Colony of Joy, Eugene found work as an actor in California: “Lesche worked in the movies as an extra. He played football for football pictures. Played gigolos for society films. Played a sailor, a cave man, a cop” (77). He changes jobs easily and doesn’t hesitate to stop one successful business for the next new and lucrative venture. Even when Lesche finds great success with his Colony of Joy, he doesn’t hesitate to leave when his job gets tough. When the New Women start to get jealous of each other, he quickly tells Sol: “Well, I’m gonna quit” (94). By creating a wild and amoral character, Hughes gives “Rejuvenation Through Joy” a kinetic energy. At about the halfway point of the collection, Eugene’s antics provide a comedic break from the heavier content in The Ways of White Folks.

Eugene’s story serves as a cautionary tale. He is profit-driven and willing to commodify anything. He shamelessly peddles African music although he himself is detached from the culture. He employs a writer to help him draft lectures on pseudo-spiritualism focused on joy. The failure of the Colony of Joy, and the tarnishing of Eugene’s name in the papers, demonstrate that his amoral behavior has drastic consequences. Where other stories and characters show the healing benefits of music and love, Lesche’s character is a reminder of how anything can be manipulated for the sake of profit.

Compared to the other main characters of Hughes’s stories, Lesche fits the role of an antagonist. Where other characters are exploited in The Ways of White Folks, in “Rejuvenation Through Joy,” it is Eugene exploiting others. His greatest adversary proves to be himself. It’s his own lust and womanizing that lead to the downfall of his colony. His perspective adds variety to the collection, helping to make each piece feel distinct, but his story still addresses the same themes and motifs. 

The protagonist of “The Blues I’m Playing,” Oceola is a talented musician. Her musical abilities attract the attention of the rich Mrs. Ellsworth, which enables Oceola to live a life free of financial burdens. Even with her newfound lifestyle, Oceola chooses to be community oriented. She always supports the communities she’s been a part of: “She no longer had pupils or rehearsed the choir, but she still loved to play for Harlem house parties—for nothing—now that she no longer needed the money, out of sheer love of jazz” (110). Oceola’s caring spirit represents a more cohesive relationship between rich and poor compared to the class dynamics in other stories. She enjoys the benefits her work has brought, but she doesn’t forget where she came from, and she still seeks to be part of the Harlem community. Similarly, Oceola shows little interest in expensive materialistic things. When considering a wedding dress, Oceola prefers simplicity over extravagance: “‘I hate silk,’ she said. ‘I hate expensive things.’ (She thought of her mother being buried in a cotton dress, for they were all broke when she died. Mother would have been glad about her marriage.)” (119). Oceola enjoys the fruits of her labor—she accepts Mrs. Ellsworth’s help and uses it well—but she never forgets where she came from. For her, happiness is being with her family and community. Her happy ending tells the reader that Oceola’s traits are ones the author finds admirable and worth replicating.

Oceola’s perspective gives Hughes another viewpoint to comment on music and art. Like Roy Williams and Eugene Lesche, Oceola uses music as a path to financial success. Like Roy, she is passionate about her craft. With Oceola, Hughes avoids over-simplifying the collection’s appreciation for music and art. Oceola herself criticizes artists in Europe: “And as for the cultured Negroes who were always saying art would break down color lines, art could save the race and prevent lynchings! ‘Bunk!’ said Oceola” (12). Oceola’s comment reminds the reader that art isn’t enough to change systems of oppression. This cautionary message becomes all the clearer through Mrs. Ellsworth. She supports Oceola but can’t understand her attachment to the Black community in Harlem. “The Blues I’m Playing” uses Oceola’s story to demonstrate how art can help bring people together, but it is only one piece in a much larger puzzle. 

Rich and powerful, Colonel Tom Norwood manages his Georgia estate with firmness and an adherence to racist values. The Colonel is determined to maintain dominance over his plantation and doesn’t allow any of his Black workers to use the front door of the house: “When the old house-man, Sam, wanted to sweep off the porch, he would have to go out the back and come all the way around” (223). The Colonel’s racist behavior adds drama and conflict to the story, particularly in his relationship to his son, Bert. He adheres to his racist views so vehemently that he can’t accept Bert as his child. When the Colonel tries to assert authority over Bert, he tells his own child: “Now I want you to answer me and talk right [...] I mean talk like a n***** should to a white man” (238). Bert seeks acceptance, but the Colonel routinely shows he’s incapable of giving it. His children with Coralee could be the beginnings of a brighter future. Instead, the Colonel denies his children because of his racist views, leading to his own downfall.

The Colonel also represents the formidable force of wealth and oppression in the South. Because the Colonel doesn’t see all human beings as equal, he uses his power and influence to deny Black people educational resources. Seeing Bert succeed academically, and Bert’s critical thinking, the Colonel regrets giving his own biracial son an education. When pressured by other members of the community to control Bert, the Colonel doesn’t hesitate to threaten his son with a pistol. Even though Bert kills the Colonel before the Colonel can kill him, the Colonel’s way of thinking still dominates the South. Bert proves unable to escape the mob. When Bert’s deformed body is hung, White onlookers comment: “That’s what we do to n*****s down here" (254). With his wealth and power, the Colonel is perhaps the most formidable antagonist in The Ways of White Folks.  

Colonel Tom Norwood’s secret woman, Coralee Lewis is resourceful and righteous. Her character shows the power and agency of Black women, even while facing oppression in the South in the 1930s. As much the Colonel sees himself as the ruler of his house, it’s Coralee who keeps the estate running: “without Cora [the Colonel] would have been lost, but of course he did not realize that—consciously” (213). Where the Colonel looks at life through a lens of false superiority, Coralee reveals the hidden power of working women. Later, as Bert flees a crazed mob, Coralee remains strong in the face of imitation. When the mob enters her home, they demand Coralee bring them liquor, but she denies them. As she addresses the mob, Hughes writes, “Cora stood quite still on the stairs” (249). Coralee stands above the mob, suggesting her superiority over them. When the mob returns to kill Bert, she stops them at the stairs, giving her son enough time to end his own life. Throughout “Father and Son,” Coralee proves to be one of the strongest and most powerful characters in the story, even if these traits are not recognized by the male characters.

While the Colonel and Bert provide stubborn masculine perspectives, Coralee contrasts their behavior with love and empathy. She acknowledges the Colonel is cruel but loves him despite his flaws. She isn’t afraid to speak up to the Colonel and try to help him reconcile with Bert. She does the same with Bert, who’s as hot-headed and stubborn as his father. When the Colonel and Bert collide, Coralee isn’t far away, and she always tries to alleviate the tension between them. the men’s failure to take her advice results in their deaths. Coralee’s compassionate approach to life makes her a character who wants peace, not violence. The characters who don’t listen to her die, showing the consequences of reacting with hate instead of empathy.