Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom takes place roughly 60 years after the United States abolished slavery, but the play’s Black characters still grapple with racism and discrimination. Because they’re in Chicago, they don’t necessarily face the prejudices they would find in the Jim Crow South (where segregation was legal), but they certainly don’t enjoy the same privileges as white Northerners, either. For instance, when Ma gets into a car accident on her way to the studio, the police officer who arrives on the scene assumes she’s in a stolen car—an assumption based entirely on the fact that she’s Black. Such glaring instances of racism clearly shape how the Black characters in the play view the world and, more specifically, their place in it. For Levee, living in a racist society means appeasing white people, but only as a way of subtly building up power by winning important music executives’ favor. Toledo, on the other hand, urges his bandmates to stop modeling themselves on white culture, arguing that Black Americans need to stop seeking “approval” from white people. Only by living on their own terms, he argues, will Black people carve out a desirable place for themselves in American society. By highlighting these contrasting viewpoints, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom illustrates that people don’t always view their oppression in the same way—rather, people process discrimination differently, responding to prejudice according to their own life experiences.
Levee deals with racism and disenfranchisement by seeking out wealth and success. Because he’s not famous like Ma, though, it’s harder for him to advocate for himself, which is why he treats influential white executives with so much reverence. For instance, when Sturdyvant comes into the band room to make sure the musicians are rehearsing, Levee’s demeanor completely shifts. Although he previously refused to rehearse with his bandmates, now he suddenly jumps up and does whatever he can to please Sturdyvant, acting like he’s eager to practice the songs. The other musicians later criticize him for calling Sturdyvant “sir” even after Sturdyvant used the condescendingly racist word “boys” to refer to the bandmembers, who are grown men. But Levee doesn’t care, instead clinging to the idea that attaining success is the best way to respond to racism—even if this means catering to bigoted white people.
One reason Levee is so willing to placate white people is because of his personal history, which instilled in him the belief that he can secretly garner power this way. When he was a child, a group of white men raped his mother. His father responded by moving the family to a new town, going around to the white men and bidding them farewell with a smile on his face. He then returned and killed as many of them as possible before getting lynched himself. From watching his father placate white people shortly before taking his revenge, Levee comes to see submissiveness as something that can actually lead to a form of empowerment. The fact that this belief grew out of his own life is important, as it suggests that personal experience is what determines how a person thinks about and responds to racism. Consequently, Levee puts up with racism and condescension from white people like Sturdyvant, believing all the while that this will help him become successful.
Unlike Levee, though, the other musicians worry about what it costs Black people to make the sacrifices necessary to become successful in a racist society. This is best exemplified by the story Slow Drag tells about Eliza Cottor, a Southern Black man who lived a normal rural lifestyle until suddenly starting to wear expensive clothes and lead a lavish lifestyle. According to Slow Drag, Eliza gained his wealth by selling his soul to the devil. In certain ways, Slow Drag’s story vilifies the very idea of Black success, making it seem like financial and social advancement is only possible for Black people who are willing to embrace evil or immorality. At the same time, though, the story also acknowledges that gaining success as a Black person in a racist country often means making sacrifices and compromises. Ma is a good example of this: she’s successful, but only because she has agreed to let exploitative white executives like Sturdyvant profit off her talent. In a way, then, she really has sold part of herself. And Levee wants to do the exact same thing, hoping his relationship with Sturdyvant will bring him good fortune. Toledo, on the other hand, worries that catering to white people actually does Black people a disservice. Acquiescing to white expectations, he suggests, keeps Black people from establishing their own sense of self in the United States: “As long as the colored man look to white folks […] for approval…then he ain’t never gonna find out who he is and what he’s about.” For Toledo, catering to white people is similar to selling one’s soul to the devil: it’s a sacrifice that isn’t worth making, as it deprives Black people of their own cultural identity.
On the whole, the play presents Toledo and Levee’s opposing viewpoints to illustrate the fact that people rarely experience the effects of bigotry in the exact same way. And yet, Levee ends up getting manipulated by Sturdyvant and having a violent breakdown in which he stabs Toledo. This outcome suggests that although appeasing white people might be a way to secretly gain power, it can also take a serious emotional toll and even turn Black people against one another. Accordingly, the play subtly implies that strategically submitting to racist white people is a dangerous and emotionally destructive way of responding to bigotry.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Race and Identity ThemeTracker
Race and Identity Quotes in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
STURDYVANT: I don’t care what she calls herself. I’m not putting up with it. I just want to get her in here...record those songs on that list...and get her out. Just like clockwork, huh?
IRVIN: Like clockwork, Mel. You just stay out of the way and let me handle it.
STURDYVANT: Yeah...yeah...you handled it last time. Remember? She marches in here like she owns the damn place...doesn’t like the songs we picked out...says her throat is sore…doesn’t want to do more than one take...
STURDYVANT: Irv, that horn player...the one who gave me those songs...is he gonna be here today? Good. I want to hear more of that sound. Times are changing. This is a tricky business now. We’ve got to jazz it up...put in something different. You know, something wild...with a lot of rhythm.
(Pause.)
You know what we put out last time, Irv? We put out garbage last time. It was garbage. I don’t even know why I bother with this anymore.
IRVIN: You did all right last time, Mel. Not as good as you did before, but you did all right.
STURDYVANT: You know how many records we sold in New York? You wanna see the sheet? And you know what’s in New York, Irv? Harlem. Harlem’s in New York, Irv.
TOLEDO: That’s African.
SLOW DRAG: What? What you talking about? What’s African?
LEVEE: I know he ain’t talking about me. You don’t see me running around in no jungle with no bone between my nose.
TOLEDO: Levee, you worse than ignorant. You ignorant without a premise.
(Pauses.)
Now, what I was saying is what Slow Drag was doing is African. That’s what you call an African conceptualization. That’s when you name the gods or call on the ancestors to achieve whatever your desires are.
SLOW DRAG: Nigger, I ain’t no African! I ain’t doing no African nothing!
TOLEDO: Naming all those things you and Cutler done together is like trying to solicit some reefer based on a bond of kinship. That’s African. An ancestral retention. Only you forgot the name of the gods.
TOLEDO: See, now...I’ll tell you something. As long as the colored man look to white folks to put the crown on what he say...as long as he looks to white folks for approval...then he ain’t never gonna find out who he is and what he’s about. He’s just gonna be about what white folks want him to be about. That’s one sure thing.
TOLEDO: Everybody worried about having a good time. Ain’t nobody thinking about what kind of world they gonna leave their youngens. “Just give me the good time, that’s all I want.” It just makes me sick.
SLOW DRAG: Well, the colored man’s gonna be all right. He got through slavery, and he’ll get through whatever else the white man put on him. I ain’t worried about that. Good times is what makes life worth living. Now, you take the white man...The white man don’t know how to have a good time. That’s why he’s troubled all the time. He don’t know how to have a good time. He don’t know how to laugh at life.
TOLEDO: It ain’t just me, fool! It’s everybody! What you think…I’m gonna solve the colored man’s problems by myself. I said, we. You understand that? We. That’s every living colored man in the world got to do his share. Got to do his part. I ain’t talking about what I’m gonna do...or what you or Cutler or Slow Drag or anybody else. I’m talking about all of us together. What all of us is gonna do.
The white man knows you just a leftover. ‘Cause he the one who done the eating and he know what he done ate. But we don’t know that we been took and made history out of. Done went and filled the white man’s belly and now he’s full and tired and wants you to get out the way and let him be by himself. Now, I know what I’m talking about. And if you wanna find out, you just ask Mr. Irvin what he had for supper yesterday. And if he’s an honest white man...which is asking for a whole heap of a lot...he’ll tell you he done ate your black ass and if you please I’m full up with you...so go on and get off the plate and let me eat something else.
CUTLER: You talking out your hat. The man come in here, call you a boy, tell you to get up off your ass and rehearse, and you ain’t had nothing to say to him, except “Yessir!”
LEVEE: I can say “yessir” to whoever I please. What you got to do with it? I know how to handle white folks. I been handling them for thirty-two years, and now you gonna tell me how to do it. Just ‘cause I say “yessir” don’t mean I’m spooked up with him. I know what I’m doing. Let me handle him my way.
My daddy wasn’t spooked up by the white man. Nosir! And that taught me how to handle them. I seen my daddy go up and grin in this cracker’s face...smile in his face and sell him his land. All the while he’s planning how he’s gonna get him and what he’s gonna do to him. That taught me how to handle them. So you all just back up and leave Levee alone about the white man. I can smile and say yessir to whoever I please. I got time coming to me. You all just leave Levee alone about the white man.
MA RAINEY: They don’t care nothing about me. All they want is my voice. Well, I done learned that, and they gonna treat me like I want to be treated no matter how much it hurt them. They back there now calling me all kinds of names…calling me everything but a child of god. But they can’t do nothing else. They ain’t got what they wanted yet. As soon as they get my voice down on them recording machines, then it’s just like if I’d be some whore and they roll over and put their pants on. Ain’t got no use for me then.
MA RAINEY: If you colored and can make them some money, then you all right with them. Otherwise, you just a dog in the alley. I done made this company more money from my records than all the other recording artists they got put together. And they wanna balk about how much this session is costing them.
MA RAINEY: White folks don’t understand about the blues. They hear it come out, but they don’t know how it got there. They don’t understand that’s life’s way of talking. You don’t sing to feel better. You sing ‘cause that’s a way of understanding life.
LEVEE: […] That’s what’s the matter with you all. You satisfied sitting in one place. You got to move on down the road from where you sitting...and all the time you got to keep an eye out for that devil who’s looking to buy up souls. And hope you get lucky and find him!
CUTLER: I done told you about that blasphemy. Taking about selling your soul to the devil.
TOLEDO: We done the same thing, Cutler. There ain’t no difference. We done sold Africa for the price of tomatoes. We done sold ourselves to the white man in order to be like him. Look at the way you dressed...That ain’t African. That’s the white man. We trying to be just like him. We done sold who we are in order to become someone else. We’s imitation white men.
LEVEE: It don’t matter what you talking about. I ain’t no imitation white man. And I don’t want to be no white man. As soon as I get my band together and make them records like Mr. Sturdyvant done told me I can make, I’m gonna be like Ma and tell the white man just what he can do. Ma tell Mr. Irvin she gonna leave...and Mr. Irvin get down on his knees and beg her to stay! That’s the way I’m gonna be! Make the white man respect me!
CUTLER: The white man don’t care nothing about Ma. The colored folks made Ma a star. White folks don’t care nothing about who she is...what kind of music she make.
STURDYVANT: Hey, Ma…come on, sign the forms, huh?
IRVIN: Ma...come on now.
MA RAINEY: Get your coat, Sylvester. Irvin, where’s my car?
IRVIN: It’s right out front, Ma. Here...I got the keys right here. Come on, sign the forms, huh?
MA RAINEY: Irvin, give me my car keys!
IRVIN: Sure, Ma...just sign the forms, huh? (He gives her the keys, expecting a trade-off.)
MA RAINEY: Send them to my address and I’ll get around to them.
IRVIN: Come on, Ma...I took care of everything, right? I straightened everything out.
MA RAINEY: Give me the pen, Irvin.
(She signs the forms.)
You tell Sturdyvant…one more mistake like that and I can make my records someplace else.
STURDYVANT: Well, Levee, I don’t doubt that really. It’s just that...well, I don’t think they’d sell like Ma’s records. But I’ll take them off your hands for you.
LEVEE: The people’s tired of jug-band music, Mr. Sturdyvant. They wants something that’s gonna excite them! They wants something with some fire! I don’t know what fellows you had playing them songs...but if I could play them! I’d set them down in the people’s lap! Now you told me I could record them songs!
STURDYANT: Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Like I say, it’s five dollars a piece. That’s what I’ll give you. I’m doing you a favor. Now, if you write any more, I’ll help you out and take them off your hands. The price is five dollars apiece. Just like now.
