And standing at the podium in Sanders Theatre, she talked about race. The April 3 lecture, the fifth in the Radcliffe’s Inaugural series, was entitled, “‘Goodbye to All That’”: Race, Surrogacy and Farewell,” and drew a constellation of academic superstars from Harvard’s Afro-American Studies and English departments to the audience. University President and English Professor Neil L. Rudenstine procured a seat in the front row to listen to Morrison weave her spell.

Surrounded by red Radcliffe banners and garbed in gray, Morrison read an excerpt from her biggest success, Beloved (Knopf, 1988). The critics have long noted Morrison’s distinctive literary voice, but her actual reading voice is quite possibly almost as extraordinary: a marvelously flexible, husky voice with a scratch at the back of it.

Beloved is dedicated to the 60 million people who died as a result of slavery. But Afro-American art does not stand alone in its inherent politicization, Morrison said: the two are inextricable, as race is a part of life, and one of the aims of her writing is to disable the art vs. politics argument.

“You can’t presume race doesn’t exist in the artistic world,” she said. “Race profits. They would have gotten rid of it if it wasn’t working.”

Yet the pleasure of creating art lies not solely in the political statement. Like a fine musician, Morrison tunes her language. And follows her words with no fear.

“There is nothing I am afraid to write at all,” she told the audience.

Joseph P. Flood contributed to the reporting of this article.