Blues for Mr. Baldwin

No Name in the Street, by James Baldwin (Dial, 197 pp., $5.95)

Crudely speaking, there are two grand theories to account for personal or group failings: that attributing it all to others, and that which assumes that one fails because of inner inadequacies. We almost always stand back from the extremes and settle on a compromise somewhere along the continuum. But a symptom of paranoia, and a hallmark of the various contemporary extremist ideologies in America, is the choice of the “others are to blame for everything” approach. When a significant thinker, or a superb writer, or anyone for whom we’ve felt great respect, crosses that line, it is a time for mourning.

No Name in the Street, by James Baldwin (Dial, 197 pp., $5.95)

Crudely speaking, there are two grand theories to account for personal or group failings: that attributing it all to others, and that which assumes that one fails because of inner inadequacies. We almost always stand back from the extremes and settle on a compromise somewhere along the continuum. But a symptom of paranoia, and a hallmark of the various contemporary extremist ideologies in America, is the choice of the “others are to blame for everything” approach. When a significant thinker, or a superb writer, or anyone for whom we’ve felt great respect, crosses that line, it is a time for mourning.