Richard Wright, who was born in 1908, describes the “brace of mountainlike, spotted, black-and-white horses clopping down a dusty road through clouds of powdered clay” in his memoir Black Boy. He finds beauty in the “green leaves rustling with a rainlike sound” and in identifying with “the sight of a solitary ant carrying a burden upon a mysterious journey.” These descriptions help us understand how he was able to survive near-fatal beatings, hunger, loneliness, and poverty as a child in the South. The way brutality and beauty share the page in this book is remarkable. For me, it’s unforgettable.
Wright, Richard. Black Boy. Perennial Classic, 1966, p. 14.