“For the first time in his life Arnie was really happy. Somebody had offered him something without charity, without condescension, without prayer, without distance, and without being nice,” (146).
In Europe, Arnie experiences sincere, human communication, rather than the polite guise of contempt the Pembertons had raised him in.
In "Poor Little Black Fellow," Europe is portrayed as a racial utopia, and Arnie decides he is not going back to America. “But your father died for America,” Grace Pemberton tells him. “I guess he was a fool,” Archie replies. Archie understands all too well that his father died for a country that superficially oppresses and discriminates against people based on the color of their skin. In the final scene, Grace Pemberton begins to cry, stirring in Mr. Pemberton the envy and resentment he had always felt towards Arnie: “Grace Pemberton never cried over anything Mr. Pemberton did. And now, she was crying over this….this…in the back of his mind was the word nigger. Arnie felt it,” (158). This is the ultimate conclusion to the racism that was rooted deep inside Mr. Pemberton, as well his family. Though they had raised and formed a connection with him, Arnie was still seen as just a dumb “nigger.”
This drastic difference between the treatment of blacks in Europe as opposed to their treatment in America is also expressed in Hughes' story "Home." The main character, Roy, has traveled the world by way of his amazing musical talent in playing the violin. He immediately saw in Europe that the people, especially the prostitutes, did not care what color he was; they were only concerned with the poverty and hunger that ran rampant through the streets:
"it made him sad to refuse the young white women trailing behind him when he came home from work late at night, offering their bodies for a little money to buy something to eat," (34).
Apparently Europe had bigger problems to undertake than the absurd stereotypes of race. Only in America, does Roy feel the unjustified hatred and threatening atmosphere blacks are forced into: “For the first time in half a dozen years, he felt his color. He was home,” (pg. 37). He gets this feeling everywhere he goes in town:
"Some of the people stopped to stare and grin at the flare of the European coat on his slender brown body. Spats and a cane on a young nigger in Hopkinsville, Missouri! What's the big deal, heh? A little white boy or two catcalled, 'Hey, coon!'" (46).
The townsfolk are clearly envious because he is a Negro who is obviously wealthier and more cultured then they. Roy therefore evokes in them dangerous feelings of insecurity, to which he can respond with only frustration.
Another technique Hughes' uses to represent the racial tension in America and the resistance blacks feel towards it, is how he incorporates their treatment by different classes. In "Poor Little Black Fellow," Arnie is not physically treated bad, but the Pembertons certainly emit a silent indignity that psychically damages him. He feels it and wants to stay in Europe. In "Home," Roy is treated terribly by the lower class of his hometown, even though he may be considered upper-class. It seems as though blacks have been forced into their own, abominated class which is below even the lower class.
In "A Good Job Gone," however, Hughes portrays a rich, white Northerner who cares little about the skin color of his servant. Mr. Lloyd gladly gives the narrator a generous salary, helping him to pay for college. When one of Mr. Lloyd's many girls calls him a "darkie" and a "nigger," Mr. Lloyd responds saying, "This is no ordinary boy, Lucille. True, he's my servant, but I've got him in Columbia studying to be a dentist, and he's just as white inside as he is black," (59). Mr. Lloyd shows little concern for racial boundaries, but he still exhibits other immoral actions by hitting many of the girls he brings back with him. The fact that he even pursues other girls is immoral because he has a wife who is paralyzed. The narrator appears very grateful toward Mr. Lloyd, however, until he brings back Pauline, a speakeasy singer from Harlem. Mr. Lloyd appears completely enthralled by her, despite the fact that she is black, and he pours his money into her. She tells the narrator that she is using Mr. Lloyd for the money, and that she has a man whom she is in love with: “’You’ve got to kid white folks along,’ she said to me. ‘When you’re depending on ‘em for a living, make ‘em think you like it,’” (62). Pauline then endorses her hatred toward whites when she says, “I laugh with ‘em and they think I like ‘em. Hell, I’m from Arkansas where the crackers lynch niggers in the streets. How could I like ‘em?” (65). She obviously does not want to succumb to being with a white man, but she knows how to make it worth her while. Just as Pauline is using Mr. Lynch, it appears the narrator is as well. When he hears Pauline and Mr. Lynch arguing, he thinks he hears him hit her. “A white man beating a Negro woman wasn’t so good. If she wanted help, I was there,” he says, (64). Though Mr. Lynch does not nearly embody the classic white racist, he still represents the control of the white, wealthy class, and thus his servant, too, is simply using him for the money and cannot see him as a friend.
This argument of sympathetic white bourgeoisie still demonstrating racial discrimination is also evident in Hughes’ story “The Blues I’m Playing.” The rich, classic art fanatic Mrs. Ellsworth pursues Oceola, an exceptionally talented black pianist. Mrs. Ellsworth desires to fund Oceola’s study and stardom to fame, but she also desires to control every aspect of Oceola’s life, even her home situation. Mrs. Ellsworth, “couldn’t recall ever having known a single Negro before in her whole life, so she found Oceola fascinating. And just as black as she herself was white,” (106). In these thoughts, Mrs. Ellsworth expresses a similar distinction as Mr. Lloyd in the equality of racial division in her and Oceola, yet she still tries to control not only the places she studies and plays piano but also the clothes she wears, the living arrangements she inhabits, and, most annoying to Oceola, the music she plays. Oceola did not enjoy the symphonies and classical art that Mrs. Ellsworth made her attend in Paris:
“Oceola enjoyed concerts, but seldom felt, like her patron, that she was floating on clouds of bliss. Mrs. Ellsworth insisted, however, that Oceola’s spirit was too moved for words at such times- therefore she understood why the dear child kept quiet,”(114).
Oceola wanted to play the emerging sounds of the blues and jazz that was inundating Harlem, her home.
Mrs. Ellsworth’s desire for control over every aspect of Oceola is not only a reference to her perception of Oceola as a possession, but also representative of the institutionalization Upper-Class society has always projected onto its audience. By attempting to mold Oceola into a pianist of her partiality, Mrs. Ellsworth is pushing Oceola into a pre-established taste of classical music. Though Oceola wishes to establish her own identity, Mrs. Ellsworth tries her hardest to generate her into the art she so obsessively craves. She wields her money-power like her own influential instrument in the world of art. With this power, even though it contradicts the wishes of Oceola, Mrs. Ellsworth projects the impression of Oceola as her prized possession, her negro protégé.
Hughes’ also incorporates in “The Blues I’m Playing” the idea that music can function as a medium of union between blacks and whites, but which, because of the ignorance of some, only provokes more resentment. As she was aware of this, Oceola did not immediately want to meet Mrs. Ellsworth, making it harder for Mrs. Ellsworth to squeeze her way into Oceola’s life:
“She wasn’t’ tremendously interested, it seemed, in going way downtown to play for some elderly lady she had never heard of, even if the request did come from the white critic, Ormond Hunter, via the pastor of the church whose choir she rehearsed, and to which Mr. Hunter’s maid belonged,” (101).
Oceola is fearful of gaining fame and fortune because she is all too familiar with the hatred of jealous rednecks towards a well-established Negro:
“as for the cultured Negroes who were always saying are would break down color lines, art could save the race and prevent lynchings! ‘Bunk’ said Oceola. ‘My ma and pa were both artists when it came to making music, and the white folks ran them out of town for being dressed up in Alabama. And look at the Jews! Every other artist in the world’s a Jew, and still folks hate them,’ (113).
Here Hughes attacks the issue of jealousy and anxiety evident in the racism experienced by black artists.
This issue of the threat towards artistically talented Negroes is also apparent in Hughes’ novella “Home.” Because Roy is wearing nice clothes, the racist townsfolk watch him carefully for any blunder on his part:
“Forgetting he wasn’t in Europe, he took off his hat and his gloves, and held out his hand to this lady who understood music…and the crowd, passing by and seeing, objected to a Negro talking to a white woman-insulting a White Woman- attacking a WHITE woman- RAPING A WHITE WOMAN,” (48).
Roy is trapped in this racial margin of Negroes who have money from, in his case, their musical talents. Had he not exploited these talents and ascended the money tree, he might have lived, but he also would never have seen Europe or nice clothes on his back or even open-minded, impartial white people. Perhaps Hughes’ is trying to make the reader ask the question of ‘why?’
As is evident throughout Hughes’ work, the racial identity of blacks is a limitation as well as a prospect in which their resistance and frustration is truly emphasized. Through the implements of geographical settings, Hughes’ gives a view of the impartialness of Europe as compared to the deep-seated hatred of the United States. Even the seemingly indifferent portrayal of the bourgeoisie has its prejudices and motivations. It even appears as though blacks are categorized and stereotyped by all white Americans into a separate and foreign class of their own (a distinction that actually promotes the emergence of black essentialism and identity). This identity is one that is not achieved without loss, as is shown through the difficulties of the musically gifted in Hughes’ work. The portrait of race that Hughes paints compels the notion that race is an issue that has run far deeper than any other human emotion and understanding; ultimately defining, whether consciously or unconsciously, all social relationships.