"Im Goin Pimp Whores!": The Goines Factor and the Theory of a Hip-Hop Neo-Slave Narrative

My life is like a Donald Goines novel!

—Nas ¹

With a discovery of the so called underclass, terms like nihilistic,dysfunctional, and pathological have become the most common adjectives to describe contemporary black culture. . . . Unfortunately, too much of this rapidly expanding literature on the underclass provides less an understanding of the complexity of people's lives and cultures than a bad blaxploitation film or an Ernie Barnes painting. Many social scientists are not only quick to point to generalize about the black urban poor on the basis of a few "representative" examples, but more often than not, they do not let the natives speak.

—Robin D. G. Kelley ²

Why have I never read an intense study of the films of Rudy Ray Moore, the novels of Iceberg Slim or Donald Goines, the music of Tyrone Davis, etc.? Why?

—Todd A. Boyd ³

Introduction

I was seven years old when I first encountered the work of Donald Goines. An intelligent, curious, Southern Black girl living in 1980s Southern-fried poverty, I lifted the paperback from an aunt. After my first read I was hooked. It was easy to complete Dopefiend (1971), Whoreson (1972), Swamp Man (1974), White Man's Justice, Black Man's Grief (1973), and many of his other works by the time I entered middle school. Coincidentally, hip-hop provided me a soundtrack for these books. Just as I memorized the lines from all of the Roxanne battles, I learned to memorize passages and phrases from Goines's work before I had encountered Richard Wright, James Baldwin, or Ralph Ellison. I became literate and even more aware of my own class-consciousness amongst middle-class Blacks by reading the Goines canon about poor, urban life and hardships. I did all of these things before I learned that I, as a Black female, it has been suggested, should not like or enjoy that kind of work. The blunt, violent, sexual, gritty realism was not suppose to appeal to ladies; but I wasn't a lady, simply a Queen B(itch) in the making. In the end, I am aware that if I had not found Goines I might never really have come to Wright, Baldwin, and Ellison. More importantly, I might have missed Gayl Jones, Toni Morrison, or Toni Cade Bambara. Goines was responsible for me finding and coming to them early. The issues of class so readily highlighted in his texts drew me to the study of literature. Like hip-hop culture does for those who live it, the themes and aesthetics of Goines's work demonstrate an in-depth understanding of class and the all-important difference between Negroes, niggers, and Blacks. ⁴

Currently, the few existing critical articles on Goines offer, as I have just done, a great admiration and devotion to the "pulp fiction" of this writer. The same sparse articles provide a brief biography of the author, examine his work in the context of gangster or popular fiction, and make the connection between hip-hop and Goines. ⁵ As evidenced by Nas, Tupac, Jay Z, and others, it is easy to see the love connection between hip-hoppers and Goines. However, it's much more difficult to understand the importance of his work to Black culture as a whole, especially when so many critics would just as soon ignore the texts. Fortunately, hip-hop culture has made it difficult to continue doing so. Very few Black cultural critics have the appreciation that would lend itself to a rigorous critical analysis. This analysis begins with much appreciation and love.

Although few cultural critics have made comments about it, a solid connection exists between hip-hop and written narratives. The title of this essay contains a significant and memorable line from Donald Goines...