The Absurdity of Prejudice: An Analysis of "Telephone Conversation"

Wole Soyinka, the Nigerian playwright, poet, and the first African to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature (1986), is known for his fierce intellect and his ability to expose the hypocrisies of society. In his renowned poem "Telephone Conversation," Soyinka tackles the pervasive and often insidious nature of racism in 1960s England.

Unlike the overt, violent racism often depicted in literature of the American South or Apartheid South Africa, the racism Soyinka explores here is polite, bureaucratic, and veiled in "good breeding." The poem is a satirical interplay between a landlady and a prospective tenant, structured as a dramatic dialogue. Through this conversation, Soyinka deconstructs the absurdity of judging human value based on skin pigmentation. The poem is not merely a complaint about discrimination; it is an intellectual dismantling of the racist mindset, achieved through wit, irony, and a masterful control of tone.

The Poem

The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. "Madam" , I warned,
"I hate a wasted journey - I am African."
Silence. Silenced transmission of pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was, foully.
"HOW DARK?"...I had not misheard...."ARE YOU LIGHT OR VERY DARK?" Button B. Button A. Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar.
It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis-
"ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT" Revelation came
"You mean- like plain or milk chocolate?"
Her accent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted
I chose. "West African sepia"_ and as afterthought.
"Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness chaged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding "DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette."
"THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?"
"Not altogether.
Facially, I am brunette, but madam you should see the rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet.
Are a peroxide blonde. Friction, caused-
Foolishly madam- by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black- One moment madam! - sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears- "Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
See for yourself?"

I. The Setting and The Confession

The poem begins in a phone booth, a confined, claustrophobic space that mirrors the speaker's social constriction. The premise is simple: the speaker is looking for accommodation. The price is reasonable, and the location is indifferent—perfect for a man who just wants a place to live.

"The price seemed reasonable, location / Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived / Off premises."

These opening lines establish a transactional normalcy. However, the speaker, a black African man, knows that in 1960s London, a transaction is never just a transaction. He feels compelled to make a "confession." The use of the word "confession" is ironic and deeply telling. Usually, one confesses to a crime or a sin. Here, the speaker "confesses" to his race.

"Madam," I warned, "I hate a wasted journey - I am African."

This pre-emptive strike reveals the speaker’s exhaustion. He has likely traveled to view apartments before, only to be turned away at the door upon being seen. By stating his race over the phone, he attempts to save himself the time and dignity of a face-to-face rejection. It sets the stage for the landlady’s reaction, moving the poem from a rental negotiation to a confrontation of identities.

II. The Silence and "Good Breeding"

The immediate reaction to his confession is silence. Soyinka describes this silence not as emptiness, but as a tangible, heavy force.

"Silence. Silenced transmission of / Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came, / Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled / Cigarette-holder pipped."

This is one of the most critical images in the poem. The landlady does not shout slurs; she does not hang up immediately. Instead, she takes a moment to process the information through her filter of "good breeding." Soyinka satirizes the British class system here. The woman is wealthy (implied by the gold cigarette holder) and likely considers herself civilized and polite. Yet, her politeness is a veneer covering deep-seated prejudice.

The phrase "Lipstick coated" suggests something artificial and cosmetic. Her voice, like her appearance, is made up to look presentable, but underneath, the reality is ugly. When she finally speaks, she does not ask about his profession, his references, or his habits. She asks the only question that matters to her, yet it is a question so absurd it disorients the speaker.

"HOW DARK? ... ARE YOU LIGHT / OR VERY DARK?"

III. The Absurdity of the Spectrum

The question "How dark?" reduces the speaker’s entire humanity to a color swatch. It is a commodification of the human being, treating him as one would treat a piece of furniture or a shade of paint to see if it matches the curtains.

The speaker is initially stunned. He describes his disorientation through the sensory overload of the environment:

"Button B. Button A. Stench / Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak."

The details of the phone booth—the buttons, the smell—ground the poem in gritty reality, contrasting with the surreal nature of the landlady’s question. He calls the question "clinical, crushing light." It strips him naked, subjecting him to a pseudo-scientific examination over the telephone line.

The absurdity peaks when the landlady clarifies her question by comparing him to chocolate: "Like plain or milk chocolate?"

This binary choice (light/milk vs. dark/plain) highlights the reductionist nature of racism. To the racist mind, there is no nuance, no individual personality—only a category. It is at this moment that the speaker’s shock transforms into a sharp, defensive wit. He realizes that anger will not work here; instead, he must use intellect to expose her ignorance.

IV. The Speaker’s Retort: Intellectual Satire

The speaker decides to play the game, but he changes the rules. He adopts a tone of mock-scientific precision to confuse and ridicule the landlady.

"West African sepia ... Down in my passport."

He uses the term "West African sepia." Sepia is a brownish-grey color, often associated with old photographs. It is not a standard color on the "racist spectrum" of black or white. By using this term, he forces the landlady to admit her ignorance. She doesn't know what it means.

"Don't know what that is." "Like bronze."

He continues to toy with her. He creates a complex image of his own body that defies her simple categorization. He describes his face as "brunette," but then pivots to the most subversive part of the poem: the description of his feet and bottom.

"Facially, I am brunette, but madam, you should see / The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet / Are a peroxide blonde."

This imagery serves two purposes. Scientifically, it is accurate—the palms and soles of black people are lighter. However, symbolically, he is dismantling her concept of "darkness." He is not one uniform block of color; he is a human being with variations.

He delivers the final blow with a mention of his "bottom":

"Friction, caused - / Foolishly, madam - by sitting down, has turned / My bottom raven black."

This is an act of defiance. By bringing his buttocks into a polite conversation with a "refined" lady, he shatters the etiquette she prizes so highly. He is saying, effectively: If you are going to reduce me to my skin color, I will force you to visualize the most undignified part of my body. It is a moment of Rabelaisian humor—using the grotesque or the bodily to mock high-minded pretension.

V. Themes and Imagery

1. The Color Red vs. Black Throughout the poem, the color red is omnipresent in the setting: the "Red booth," the "Red pillar-box," the "Red double-tiered omnibus." Red is the color of London, of England, and perhaps of warning/danger. The speaker is surrounded by this alien "red" world, trying to negotiate his existence as a "black" man. The contrast visually isolates him.

2. Communication and Miscommunication The title "Telephone Conversation" implies a two-way exchange, but this interaction is a failure of communication. The telephone, a device meant to bridge distances, serves here to highlight the massive cultural and empathetic gap between the two people. The landlady listens, but she does not hear him; she only scans for color codes.

3. Polite Racism Soyinka’s critique is most biting when addressing the "manners" of the landlady. She does not use slurs. She remains calm. This suggests that racism in this society is normalized—it is part of the "good breeding." This makes the racism harder to fight because it hides behind a mask of civility.

The poem ends abruptly. As the speaker senses the landlady is about to hang up (hearing the "receiver rearing on the thunderclap"), he makes one last desperate, sarcastic plea:

"Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather / See for yourself?"

This final line is double-edged. On the surface, it is an invitation to view the tenant. On a deeper level, it is a challenge: Use your eyes to see a human being, rather than using your prejudices to imagine a caricature.

Telephone Conversation remains a powerful piece of literature because it refuses to be a victim's lament. The speaker does not beg for acceptance. Instead, he asserts his intellectual superiority over the bigoted landlady. Through humor, irony, and linguistic precision, Soyinka strips the racist of her power, leaving her holding the phone, confused and exposed, while the reader laughs at the sheer absurdity of her prejudice.

The poem stands as a testament to the idea that while racism denies the humanity of the oppressed, the act of writing—of wit and creativity—reclaims it.