Bob Kaufman (1925–1986) was a founding architect and exemplar of the sensibility of the Beat Generation, a Cold War sub- and counter-cultural phenomenon that attempted to embody dissent in artistic and everyday practice; New York and San Francisco were its primary sites. However, as a Black poet in America, he also suffered from the racism–sometimes romantic Negrophilia and sometimes out-and-out violent prejudice–of his mostly white milieu. Subsequently, he has been overshadowed by his white, formally-educated confrères Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William Burroughs. In addition to his status as a Beat poet, Kaufman participates in a lineage of New World Afro-diasporic surrealists, including Aimé Cèsaire, Ted Joans, Wilson Harris, Amiri Baraka/LeRoi Jones, Kamau Brathwaite, and Will Alexander. His work was anthologized by Langston Hughes, Clarence Major, LeRoi Jones and Larry Neal, and Dudley Randall in a range of African American poetry anthologies, and he has been closely studied by not only the Black Arts poets of the 1960s and 1970s, but by subsequent poetry collectives such as Umbra and the Darkroom Collective.
The details of Bob Kaufman’s life have been enhanced, occluded, and/or drenched in mystique (some of it self-generated) that is only now starting to find a comfortable ratio of fact to legend, thanks in part to Billy Woodberry’s haunting 2015 documentary on Kaufman, And when I die, I won’t stay dead, and to scholars such as Mona Lisa Saloy and James Smethurst. Kaufman’s thumbnail profile, as it appeared in his books and still in some online bios, tells us that he was born and raised in New Orleans, one of thirteen children, to a German-Jewish father and a “Roman Catholic voodoo mother from Martinique,” and that he served in the Merchant Marines for twenty years. In fact, he was brought up in a high-achieving, middle-class Black Catholic family with a schoolteacher mother from the prominent Vigne family and a father who was either a Pullman porter or a waiter in a high-end restaurant. Kaufman became a union activist for the National Maritime Union (in which he served for far fewer than twenty years), which led to his being blacklisted when the AFL and CIO merged; left-leaning elements of the union were driven out, and people of color were systematically purged from leadership positions. After a period stumping for Henry Wallace in the South, he reinvented himself as a Beat poet in the late 1950s in San Francisco.
At the Beat movement’s apex (1955–1960), Kaufman was a central and galvanizing poetic force on the streets of San Francisco’s North Beach district. His broadside “Abomunist Manifesto” rivaled Ginsberg's “Howl” in its status as signature Beat text, and the term “beatnik” was coined by San Francisco Chronicle columnist Herb Caen to describe Kaufman. In 1959 Kaufman co-founded the significant Beat mimeo-journal Beatitude, which has continued to appear sporadically into the present day. While he was known for his brilliant improvisatory riffs on extant literary texts, which he folded into his own in an avant-la-lettre form of rap-style sampling, he also composed at the typewriter and longhand, leaving the collection and publication of these documents to others.
Kaufman's first book, Solitudes Crowded with Loneliness (1965), was compiled, edited, and sent off to New Directions publishers by his wife Eileen Kaufman, and his second volume Golden Sardine would be published by City Lights in 1967. But by 1963, Bob Kaufman had lapsed into a silence that lasted approximately ten years. This long period of silence has been variously characterized as a formal “Buddhist vow” in response to his grief and disillusionment after the Kennedy assassination and also as a less formal result of the grief and disillusionment attendant on being a frequently beaten and jailed Black person in the United States. He occasionally mourned what he believed to be the loss of his considerable lyrical powers. “I want Bob Kaufman back,” he would
sometimes say in his later years, even after the spell of silence was broken.
Kaufman’s career underwent something of a revival in the early 1980s, when Raymond Foye helped him to get an NEA grant that resulted in the gathering and publication of The Ancient Rain. In September 1981, Kaufman read in public for the first time in many years at the San Francisco Art Institute with fellow surrealist Philip Lamantia, a major occasion captured by Gerry Nicosia’s TV film West Coast: Beat and Beyond. Bob Kaufman never really lost Bob Kaufman. His visionary writing became, if anything, more urgent and incendiary over the course of his life, culminating in “The Ancient Rain,” the bicentennial poem that crowns the final and eponymous book. Figuring a position that flickered between the spontaneity of the “live performance,” the historically urgent topicality of broadsides and other ephemera, and the seriously and self-consciously “literary,” Bob Kaufman’s contribution to the postwar era continues to resist categories and inform American poetics.
—Maria Damon
Maria Damon is a Professor at Pratt Institute in the Department of Humanities and Media Studies, as well as in the Writing Department. She is the author of two books of poetry scholarship, The Dark End of the Street: Margins in American Vanguard Poetry and Postliterary America: From Bagel Shop Jazz to Micropoetries. She is also the co-author (with mIEKAL aND and Jukka-Pekka Kervinen) of several books, online and in print, of poetry; author of two chapbooks of cross-stitch visual poetry; and co-editor (with Ira Livingston) of Poetry and Cultural Studies: A Reader.
