erhaps no other insult can be spoken with more malice, or received with more outrage, than the word “nigger.” By the same token, there may be no other word in the history of the English language that has been so brilliantly adopted and subverted by the oppressed and aggrieved.

Nigger, by Randall Kennedy, a Harvard law professor, takes a long, hard look at the N-word, as it is often politely denoted, attempting, as he puts it, to “put a tracer on nigger, report on its use, and assess the controversies to which it gives rise.”

For Kennedy, the word seems in some ways an odd choice of subject matter. An advocate of a colorblind society and an outspoken critic of racial solidarity, I once heard him ask Cornel West in a debate what value blacks could find in identifying with each other. After a brief pause, West replied: “We can share our nigger stories.” The response, which rendered Kennedy temporarily speechless, elicited uproarious applause from the audience.

Certainly Kennedy has a fair share of his own “nigger stories,” though they don’t make it into his latest work. Still, despite his aversion to racial ties, Kennedy is not blind to the history of white supremacy, in which “nigger” plays such a central part. Nor is he aiming to make money off the N-word, or stir unwarranted controversy, though the title of his book cannot help but furrow a few brows: How are bookstore patrons to ask for the volume by name? “Is Kennedy’s Nigger in stock by any chance?”

ccording to Kennedy, “nigger” is derived from the Latin term for the color black, niger. When exactly the word transformed from racial moniker to racial slur is unknown, but by the early 19th century “nigger” was a familiar insult. By 1871, the term had made its first recorded appearance in a court of law. Since then, as Kennedy illustrates, nigger “has seeped into practically every aspect of American culture, from literature to political debates, from cartoons to songs.” “Nigger” is all over the place, from well-known nursery rhymes such as “Eeny-meeny-miney-mo! / Catch a nigger by the toe!” (I grew up thinking it had always been “tiger”) to prominent landmarks previously known as Nigger Lake, Niggerhead Hill or Old Nigger Creek. And from the more recent manifestations of “nigger” in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction to virtually any hip-hop song made in the past five years, Kennedy points out that the word’s meaning varies by content and context, depending largely on the individual circumstances in which it is used.

But Kennedy is largely interested in a careful examination of the legal history of “nigger.” For “like every other significant feature of American life—including cigarettes, guns, pornography, drugs, stock trading, sex, religion, and money,” he argues, “nigger is thoroughly enmeshed in litigation.” He notes that while a Lexis-Nexis search of state and federal cases pulls up 84 instances of “kike,” 50 of “wetback,” 90 of “gook” and 286 of “honky,” “nigger” appears in the text of 4,219 decisions.

In one instance, a black man attempting to return merchandise at a store was forced to sign a return slip on which a sales clerk had written “arrogant nigger refused exchange” in order to obtain his refund. Courts in Illinois ruled in 1977 that the notation, however rude, was not harmful enough to warrant a lawsuit. In another case, one James H. Spriggs quit his job at an auto glass company in Maryland in the early ’90s and sued after being subjected to what he described as years of listening to his supervisor refer to black customers and employees as “monkeys and niggers.” Spriggs won his case on appeal.

Although he carefully explores the legal intricacies the use of “nigger” has given rise to, Kennedy has little patience for the arguments of p.c.-minded advocates of banning so-called hate speech, or those who merely attempt to limit or confine the uses of the word. He argues that even the best-intentioned hate speech law cannot accomplish its goal—while such laws ultimately undermine fundamental rights. Thankfully, as Kennedy notes, the hate speech debate is largely dead in the water, though the issues it raised about the boundaries of contemporary dialogue remain relevant. The debate’s very defeat, in his view, is a measure of progress, and a sign of the health of our democracy.

Another sign of progress, to Kennedy, is that more blacks are using the term openly, regardless of the confusion or haphazard mimicry it elicits among some whites, or even the backlash from some blacks. He’s happy too that many whites and other non-blacks are starting to use the word to refer to each other, in both the positive and negative senses, shedding much of the term’s racial specificity. In a sense, he points out, as the meanings and uses of “nigger” (and its variants) have become more variable, its prominence in the American dialect has been revitalized. Given these facts, Kennedy argues, for “bad and for good, nigger is thus destined to remain with us for many years to come—a reminder of the ironies and dilemmas, the tragedies and glories, of the American experience.”

ew could argue that point, and for those unaware of just how pervasive the use of the word was and is, Nigger will provide a jarringly educational wake-up call. (Even as an African-American, I was shocked by many of the examples Kennedy lists.) While readers will certainly appreciate the lucidity with which Kennedy presents complicated legal issues, and the sheer breadth and depth of his overall analysis, some may still prickle at the idea that we should all accept “nigger” as here to stay.

Such detractors could probably never be satisfied, and the linguistic tide they stand against will all but certainly swallow them whole. Still, even those on Kennedy’s side may feel a tad cheated by Nigger for different reasons. Though it couldn’t be more thoroughly researched or meticulously argued, the book tells us surprisingly little about the power of language or the language of power. One is left wondering how the word has remained at once so scathing an insult and so treasured a term of endearment, and from whence comes its power both to oppress and to liberate. The growing paradox of the word in the modern context is what makes it so alluring a subject, and so perplexing a puzzle. Yet Kennedy does not manage to fully flesh out the implications of nigger’s simultaneous ability to empower and humiliate.

That said, Nigger tells us more—about our country and ourselves—than most books do in volumes. Given this one word’s horrible, often neglected past and its complicated, conflicted future, that is an important contribution.

Alex P. Kellogg is a reporting fellow for The Chronicle of Higher Education.

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