"Well," Bech began, "I think, yes, the American Negro has his share of our decadence, though maybe not a full share - "
"We have heard all this before," the man was going on, robed like a wizard, his lilting African English boomed by the amplifying system, "of your glorious Melville and Whitman, of their Moby-Dicks and their Scarlet Letters - what of Elridge Cleaver and Richard Wright, what of Langston Hughes and Rufus Magee? Why have you not read to us pretty posies of their words? We beg you, Mr. Henry Bech, tell us what you mean by this phrase" - a scornful pause - " 'American writer.' "
(BECH IS BACK, " Bech Thirld-Worlds It", p. 180)