Probably because of my vantage point as a librarian, one of the recurring themes that has struck me in our studies of Motown and the Civil Rights Era is how the point of view of the story-teller changes the story.
I first became fascinated with looking at the discrepancies in historical accounts in our readings about early days of Motown as told by Smokey Robinson and Mary Wilson. In reading Smokey’s account, I was immediately struck by how much his giftedness as a writer and storyteller comes through in his narrative. His use of techniques such as foreshadowing are evident right away, such as when he begins talking about Claudette and alludes to the fact that she “was always on (his) mind” (64), but then skips ahead to talk about the Matadors’ meeting with Jackie Wilson’s “people.” His story is clearly structured around his personal life, first, and his professional life, second. Almost without exception, Smokey is very positive in his accounts of every famous name he mentions, whether he’s talking about the strong work ethic of the Gordy family or the generosity of Ray Charles. In this way, it sometimes seems that what he leaves out of his account is as significant as what he decides to tell.
Mary Wilson, on the other hand, is a detail-oriented and candid writer, no less talented in her literary approach than Smokey. Her story tends to focus first on the professional aspects of her life at this time, with personal details, such as the death of her father, as the secondary part of the story. Unlike Smokey, Mary is at times quite critical of her contemporaries at Motown. This criticism is most evident in Mary’s description of Diana Ross. She describes Diana as having “a very high opinion of herself and a low tolerance for criticism” (128), and also depicts her as confrontational and as a woman who pursues married men, including Smokey.
As we discussed in class, this is perhaps the best example of how Smokey’s account and Mary’s account differ, in that Smokey spends just one page writing about his relationship with Diana Ross. In his version, his wife Claudette confronts him about their friendship, saying that people are talking about it. Smokey denies anything inappropriate is going on, but he tells Claudette that he will “cool it” with Diana if it will make her “feel better” (112). Mary’s version is that the two were indeed more than friends, and that when Diana’s relationship with Smokey ended, she immediately began to pursue another married man.
Even in today’s discussion, we talked about how Amiri Baraka’s writings reflect on this point in both a broad sense and in particular instances, such as his objection to Spike Lee’s depiction of Malcolm X. As we know, often those who are in power get a larger audience to whom they can tell their “truth.” In the case of the early days of Motown, this task may now fall to Berry Gordy. As it is reported in a New York Post article, Gordy is in the process of writing a Broadway musical with a $100 million budget to tell his version of the events.
All of this, in my mind, brings the question forward of how we as teachers/students/researchers approach the depiction of history and “truth” in both primary and secondary sources.
-- Angela Watson
