Mumia Abu-Jamal, “We Want Freedom: A Life in the Black Panther Party”
I’m gonna have to put some of these reviews up out of order, as I’ve been waiting for some stuff scanned photos that I can upload. Meanwhile, things are moving at too rapid of a pace to wait any longer.
This was my first review assignment for Maximum RockNRoll, so it’s nice that the book they sent me was one that I would most definitely (Or should I say mos def? After all this is the Panthers) would have purchased if and when it filtered into the store.
I think I shocked the hell out of the assignment editor from MRR, as she sent this with a due date of May 15, and also said that she could push it back another month if I needed it.
I got the review back to her in three days. I’m betting she thinks I didn’t read it.
I’ll say this though — it was hard to keep myself out of the review after two-plus years of doing these “reviews” on this site. I’m glad I got it out of the way before this breakup happened, lest I launch into a diatribe about how Fred Hampton got it easy — after all, he only got killed. I’m the one that has to keep on living.
I know, I know, nobody wants to hear me rabbit on about how I miss her. I swear I'll limit my maudlin comments to one per book.
And since this is my spot to talk about her, I’d just like to say you never realize how many people say, “How you doing?” in a retail situation until you’re actually doing absolutely fucking awful. You know how many people say it in one day?
42 times in nine hours.
“How you doin’?”
“Actually, really terrible. A friend of mine just died, my psychotic ex-girlfriend still wont leave me alone after five years, and while I was all emotional distraught over that, my current girlfriend, who I wasn’t having any problems with, unceremoniously dumped me...”
“Uh, hey listen buddy, I was just making small talk.”
“...And then, to make things worse...What do you mean? You asked how I was doing. I’m answering you.”
“Yeah, but I was just, you know, making small talk. White noise. Filler. Fodder. Whatever.”
“You were? You mean you’re not actually interested?”
“Uh, well, I don’t even know you.”
“Well why ask then? I mean, you could have talked about the weather, or the books you’re buying. Hell, it’s not original, but you could have mentioned that the gray cat is really fat, if you felt that you had to keep your lips flapping. That’s a particularly popular topic. None of these involve a personal question, which most people would expect a response for.”
“Yeah, I never thought about that. Look, uh, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“Hmmmm. Well, I don’t really swing that way. Uh... How about if you bought a copy of my book?”
“Is this yours? Um, okay. What’s it about?”
“Well, it’s based in England. Primarily the story revolves around a girl that I really cared for who ended up breaking my heart...”
Jesus. My entire life is a clichéd plot point in a romantic comedy.
I’m not going to put the review I did on this site. There aren’t any mentions about copyright law or right to reproduce in the magazine, and as staff is all volunteer, it doesn’t really matter, but I reproduce enough stuff when I’ve run out of things to say in the first place. I’ll saw this though — it’s better than the book reviews from other writers from the last issue. Not that this means anything.
I will say this, for those in the know about Mumia Abu-Jamal — if you’re looking for insight into the man himself, it’s not here. This is really more of a retrospective/history lesson of the Black Panther Party.
But the book is pretty good, especially if you’re interested in the Panthers, as I am. It almost made me feel ashamed about my business membership at Costco, which says I work for the Black Panthers. But then I remember Bobby Seale, one of the earliest members of the Oakland chapter, and how he now hawks Barbecue equipment on late-night infomercials.
And I realize that there’s no way I can cheapen the movement any further.
