Richard Wright’s biography Black Boy is a vivid example of his use of naturalistic fiction to depict the real world in all its harshness, violence, betrayal, deprivation in rapacious slum cities, misery, prostitution, dispossession, and unemployment. , while at the same time creating the image of balance from the promise of the natural environment.

Wright always strives to bring landscape, as well as other cultural backgrounds, to life in the reader’s mind. He witnesses his detailed and graphic descriptions of the various homes Richard lived in and the healthy or unhealthy environment that surrounded them.

or Wright we witness the particularly evocative use of language in the opening paragraphs of the book. First of all, he carefully establishes the time, the climate and the freshness of his memory. First of all he establishes that it was a winter morning. Although it happened long before his narrative and when he was only four years old, he was still very attentive to detail and, as such, very observant. He could, for example, recall such mundane details as standing in front of a fireplace warming his hands over a mound of glowing embers. Adding much to the liveliness of his depiction was the succinctly effective way in which he exploits the beauty and special feeling of nature when he remembers hearing the wind whistling by outside the house. These were her relief from the stifling air of excessive parental control and an air of oppression that stifled his quest for freedom and self-expression. The oppressive and suffocating air that he wants to be free of includes his mother’s scolding, telling him to be still and warning him not to make any noise. Richard becomes like this: angry, irritable and impatient.

o But then her need for freedom of speech and movement is also held back by the atmosphere in the house where her grandmother lay all day and night in the next room under the doctor’s care. But then Richard, forced to repress his excess energy and his longing for freedom, restlessly walked to the window, pushed aside the long fluffy white curtains he had been forbidden to touch, and gazed longingly out at the empty street, dreaming of running, playing and scream. . But the vivid image of his grandmother’s wrinkled, somber white face, framed by a halo of tousled black hair on a huge feather pillow, scared him, though he didn’t say what.

o In Memphis, Richard revealed that they lived in a one-story brick dwelling. The stone buildings and concrete sidewalks seemed desolate and hostile. The city, according to Richard, seemed dead and desolate mainly because of the absence of the luxuriance of the green things that were growing. The house was stuffy with four of them crammed into a kitchen and bedroom.

o The next house that was going to be inhabited by Richard was the home where he had been hospitalized for his mother’s illness. It is more particularly detailed about the surroundings of the orphanage and the atmosphere of mistrust and deception that characterizes life there. The most we are told of the structure itself is that, like many other structures mentioned in the book, it is a frame building, albeit a two-story structure. It is also located in the middle of trees in a wide green field. The house itself is said to be always full of children, as well as a storm of noise that almost suggests that it is inhabited by an especially loud and unruly group of children. The daily routine there, he said, was a blur, a new suggestion of chaos and confusion complemented by a permanent sense of perpetual hunger and fear. The children there bear a silent hostility and grudge against each other, continually complaining of hunger while suffering from food deprivation and inhabiting a general atmosphere of nervousness, intrigue and betrayal as one continues to lie on top of the other. But then, the uncontrolled growth of wide expanses of grass in the complex could only be controlled by the authorities who would take advantage of their energies, since they would be forced to pull them with their hands.

o Another two-story frame house is Richard’s grandmother’s house in Jackson, which Richard described as a lovely place to explore. It had seven rooms. He and his brother used to play hide and seek in the long, narrow hallways, as well as on and under the stairs. Its white plastered walls, front and back porches, round columns and railings made him feel that no house in the world could compare to it in splendor. Richard and his brother thus enjoyed wandering, playing and shouting in such a large space and in wide green fields.

o In Elaine, Arkansas, Richard’s aunt, Aunt Maggie, lived in a bungalow surrounded by a fence. Here in the house, Richard was open to a lot of food for the first time in his life. The sheltered aspect of the house warmed his heart because he was finally living in something that resembled his home. A wide, dusty driveway led past the house, green wildflowers growing on either side. Being summer, the smell of clay dust was everywhere. The place was so inviting that Richard got up early every morning only to wade his bare feet through the road dust that revealed itself in the strange mixture of the cold dew-wet crust on the road and the warm sun-scorched dust. below. . After sunrise, the bees would come out and Richard soon discovered that by slapping his palms together hard, he could hit a box.

o Next, Richard revealed that they rented half of a two-corner house in front of which ran a stagnant ditch carrying sewage. His neighborhood was infested with rats, cats, dogs, fortune tellers, cripples, blind people, whores, dealers and collectors, and children. Opposite his flat was a huge roundhouse where locomotives were cleaned and repaired. Bareheaded and barefoot, Richard and other black boys used to stand and watch the men go in, out, over and under the huge black metal engines.

o Richard now lived in a one story two frame house. The building had originally been a single service unit and had been converted to two stories, with doors on one floor leading to the next floor. These doors had been closed, bolted and nailed securely.

o Richard arrived in Memphis on a cold Sunday morning in November 1925 and dragged his suitcase along a quiet empty sidewalk in the winter sun. He found Beale Street, the street he had been told was full of dangers, pickpockets, prostitutes, murderers, and black henchmen. After walking several blocks, he saw a large wooden house with a sign ROOMS in the window. He slowed down wondering if it was a rooming house or a whorehouse. Having heard of the silly mistakes small-town kids made when they went to the big cities, he wanted to be cautious.