final independent reading blog

Wow. Okay. Here we go...

For a brief summary, the narrator joined the Brotherhood, a group of white and black men that practice the “science” of political, racial action. They persuade the narrator to join, and he works for them as a speaker, initially for the citizens of Harlem, until he is relocated. He gives it his full time and effort, truly believing he is a part of the “family.” Towards the end, however, he realizes that in their minds, he is “simply a material, a natural resource to be used,” not to mention the corruption of the whole organization (508). Much more happened in between, but that’s the basic layout.

First, I want to address the idea of invisibility. In the last post, I did not fully understand why the narrator considers himself invisible. In the last fifth of the book or so, he addresses this idea much more. In hearing the narrator’s speech at the funeral of a “traitor” to the Brotherhood (Clifton), Brother Jack (the Brotherhood’s leader) explodes in outrage. It is the first time that his insanity surfaces, and the narrator concludes that Jack must not “even see [him]” (475). The word “see” represents understanding and general human respect/morality. The narrator ponders whether the color of his skin matters, considering that the Brotherhood doesn’t “see either color or men” (508). Whoah. But then why are there so many references to whiteness? Maybe because the narrator doesn’t realize race’s insignificance until the end. He is constantly noticing race and whiteness which controls him, and therefore, so does the reader. But I don’t think Ellison’s subject/message is as simple as race relations in the 1950s.

If the narrator’s realization isn’t obvious enough, there is another scene which illustrates this concept. Ras the Exhorter (a black supremacist) and his followers verbally and (attempt to) physically harm the narrator. Ras keeps yelling, “Hang the lying traitor!” and sends his men to chase the narrator (558). Everyone in this scene is black. It’s not as if all blacks stick together to fight white superiority; it’s not that simple. To paraphrase the narrator, members of the Brotherhood and Ras’s group alike are both colorblind and moral-blind (508). People turn to violence out of fear because they fail (and refuse) to open their eyes.

Here’s one of many questions I have: are all these characters blind, or is the narrator invisible? Which happened first, or did they happen simultaneously? My gut instinct is to say that their blindness causes him to believe he is invisible. After all, he only senses his invisibility when he is misunderstood and unseen. For example, when he gives an inspiring and passionate speech about the immorality of dispossession, the audience listens intently, watching him, “the silence profound” (343). The light “is so strong” that he can no longer see the audience; only they can see him -- the opposite of invisibility (341). At the end, the applause strikes “like a clap of thunder” (346). The audience connects with his words and his honesty, and as a result he is seen, perhaps more than he wishes.

Based on these observations, I will attempt to formulate one possible message...The basic human flaw/struggle is blindness, limiting us from complete understanding of anyone but ourselves, the result being an individual, internal sense of invisibility. Quite depressing, but that’s existentialism.

Would I recommend? Hmm….. only on certain terms. You must be patient. This book is not only long, but dense in both language and ideas. You must be willing to get confused. You must be willing to question, and not be discouraged if you can’t find a concrete answer. You must be willing to overcome frustration with the narrator’s passiveness in order to continue reading (because trust me, you will become frustrated). YOU MUST BE WILLING TO READ WITH FOCUS, SLOWLY AND CAREFULLY!!! Ellison does not come right out and say what he (or the narrator) means. Often the messages are implicit in random, seemingly useless scenes and could be lost if you skim. I am torn between fascination for the ideas presented in this novel, and frustration for the way in which they are presented. I often felt confused while reading, asking myself, “Why is this random, apparently useless scene being described in such detail?”, and became even more frustrated when I couldn’t find an answer. The messages became clearer toward the end, which was intentional and a message in itself, but throughout, I had trouble focusing.

As for reading habits, I have strengths and weaknesses, like anyone. I think I’m decent at construing messages/themes, but I often don’t have strong textual evidence for my conclusions (as this post probably shows). In other cases, as mentioned in post 3, I get lost in tiny details (such as the whiteness motif), and miss the main point if there is one. I hang onto the cliff of symbolism too tight sometimes, failing to realize that the ground is only one foot below me. Nabokov and Prose might applaud my attention to detail, but I recognize that attention to detail doesn’t really matter if the bigger message is ignored. Also, I found myself identifying with the narrator, of which Nabokov would censure. Although I’m not sure why exactly identification is a bad thing. Perhaps it can help support the message that all humans are blind in some way and all feel some invisibility, and therefore we can relate to the narrator and characters in the book. I did read quite slowly throughout, and I feel that that definitely aided my overall understanding and comfort with the not only the plot but with characterization, so thank you, Francine Prose.

independent reading post #3

I have discovered a poor reading habit of mine. I tend to go into a book with an open mind, but once I find something “interesting” (symbolism, motif, etc.), I often only focus on that. I miss out of bigger picture themes because I am so distracted with tiny details that sometimes are irrelevant. In this post, I will give a brief section continuing the whiteness motif, and then will attempt to dissect the protagonist.

The most overt racial symbolic reference in the next section I read occurs when the protagonist gets a job in a paint factory. His initial job is to mix black “dope” into Optic White paint (201). His angry boss, Kimbro, tells him to “stir it ‘til it disappears,” referring to the blackness of the dope (200). This symbol supports the message that black people are often
mixed into” white culture until their culture/identity is undifferentiable. That’s basically what the narrator is experiencing. He is taught to obey whites. Even in his black college, he had to be careful to please the white guests (i.e. Norton). He almost forces himself to be “mixed in,” attempting to put aside his past to please white people.

Now for character dissection.

The protagonist has changed since his move North. He shows skepticism of whites through his perception of Kimbro, saying, “You just can’t trust any of them” (202). He has less trust and therefore less inward respect for whites than he did at college. Due to this lack of respect, anger comes closer to the surface of his conscience. And when anger does permeate, he doesn’t hold back. The reader sees a whole different side of him.

He practically kills Lucius Brockway, the old black man in charge of the gas tanks in the basement of the paint factory, when Brockway realizes the narrator might be part of the union.The narrator finally stands up for himself. He lunges onto Brockway, whose head flies “backwards and up and back again” at each strike (225). Despite the narrator’s surprising action, two aspects of this scene prevent it from being a true character shift. One is the fact that Brockway is black. Although the narrator is losing trust for whites, I doubt he would physically harm a white person. He’s getting his anger for whites out on this black man simply because he can and no one can see it happening; which brings me to the second reason: the fight takes place in a basement. The narrator still doesn’t possess the courage to demonstrate anger in public. He fears what others might think of him, not to mention potential punishment he would face. The basement is symbolic. His outbursts are still contained; not visible on the surface. So far, I conclude that this is the reason for the title Invisible Man. In a way, humans are defined by their emotions. The narrator keeps him emotions hidden, and therefore isn’t truly seen.

Independent Reading blog #2

     In my last post, I traced a motif of whiteness. Over the next 100 pages I have noticed a few more instances. In the night, the narrator compares the moon to a "white man's bloodshot eye" (110). The moon "sees" everything, as does a white man's eye. The power of whiteness is ubiquitous in this young man's life, constantly surrounding around him, like the moon orbiting the Earth.
     The narrator also notices "sheer height of the white stone" when he travels North in search of a job (165). He gets kicked out of the school for "improper behavior" towards Norton, but is guaranteed that one of the seven recommendation letters Bledsoe gives him will get him a job. When he travels North, he still sees whiteness as intimidating (i.e. the tall building), but overcomes some fear. "After staring for a moment," he walks in the building along with other business people (165). He breaks down barriers just by walking in to an establishment full of white people.
     Later, when the narrator goes to Mr. Emerson (one of the letters' intended recipients), he sees "ebony pedestals," holding up "glass specimen jars" (180). A shift! Ebony (black) versus white. This detail could be analyzed as either a) black people are strong or b) black people carry weight the society's judgements put on them. To support the message I think Ellison is trying to make, I'm going to choose option a. The narrator has travelled North, both a physical and societal change. He is astonished that people treat him equally, or at least without negative interest. He is shocked when a plump woman on the subway does not scream when he brushes her skin, and doesn't "pay him the slightest attention" (158). Life is different now -- but better? We would think so (as readers in the 21st century), but the narrator is so shocked he can't decide whether this is "desirable or undesirable" (168).
    This whole equality thing relates to the title (Invisible Man). In the North, the narrator feels that despite general politeness, people "hardly see [him]" (168). He is more invisible in the North. This is ironic because invisibility seems like a undesirable fate. The North should be more accepting, right? More willing to see blacks as actual people? And yet, the narrator doesn't feel seen at all. He's just another body walking in the street. This is ironic because the narrator had a decent life in the South; getting an education and thriving mentally. Now he is ignored, likely to get lost in his own thoughts and perceptions simply because he has no relations.
     Perhaps invisibility is a good start; a blank slate. But since the narrator has already experienced prejudices in the South, he can't fathom or enjoy the equality in the North just yet. To illustrate this, Ellison uses an analogy. While the narrator waits in Emerson's office, his attention is drawn, by a "savage beating of wings," to an "aviary of tropical birds" (181). He feels an urge to "stand near the cage for a better view," but resists this temptation as it would appear "unbusinesslike" (181). The birds symbolize his own state of being. He is trapped in a cage. His resistance to his attraction to the birds is also symbolic. He doesn't want to admit that he's in a cage. In fact, he doesn't even really know that he is in one. He hears a "harsh cry from the cage," and sees a "fluttering and beating of wings," only to settle down "when the door opens and the blond man" enters (182). Just like the birds, his instinct tells him to obey and mimic whites. They birds are rowdy when the narrator is in the room, but immediately settle down when the white man comes in. The narrator clings to the idea of white power because it has been a reality throughout his life.

Independent reading blog #1

         The first scene of Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison occurs in a sketchy ballroom of a hotel, to which the nameless black, male narrator is invited to give his high school graduation speech in front of the town's "leading white citizens" (17). Instead, he is blindfolded and thrown into a boxing ring to fight like an animal against other black men. Beaten almost to death, he is finally allowed to give his speech and is rewarded a scholarship to the state college for blacks. At college, he drives Mr. Norton, a white guest, around the town at his request. Norton insists on talking to Jim Trueblood, a poor black sharecropper who claims to has accidentally impregnated his daughter in his sleep. Hearing this story, Norton goes into a state of shock, and the narrator agrees to get some whiskey at the Golden Day to calm him down. Both characters end up in the Golden Day, surrounded by insane war veterans and prostitutes. Violence ensues, putting Norton in a further state of shock. When they finally return to the college, the narrator is apologetic, apprehensive that he will be blamed. But Norton assures Dr. Bledsoe, a school official, that the narrator is not to blame.
         First, I will address point of view. It is first-person, but the narrator is nameless. This unconventional approach works on multiple levels. I think Ellison's intention is for readers to take in the actual words and not connect them to a character. Without a name, this is much easier since Ellison has given us a head start. Also, the anonymity makes narrator symbolic in a way. This "invisible man's" struggles apply to more people than just himself. Since race is emphasized, it seems African Americans are most likely being "symbolized." But perhaps Ellison just wants to emphasize the fact that the narrator is invisible and doesn't have an identity.
         A motif of whiteness has popped up several times in just the first 100 pages. I will just mention a couple instances. The narrator comments on Norton's "silk white hair" (37), expressing his admiration and awe of whites. He is at once scared and impressed by this "white-suited St. Nicolas" man (107). The instances of whiteness also convey that the narrator is surrounded and controlled by whites. The officials in the "whitewashed reviewing stand" judge him (36). The "white dividing line of the highway" contains him (98). His tears blur his vision, creating a "world of whiteness" (100). It's obvious that Ellison is emphasizing the color white. He keeps bringing it up because whites are dominating the narrator's life (and there are several more examples I didn't mention). After all, it is because of whites that he goes to college; because of Norton that he gets caught up in so much violence and trouble.
         Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention the "stolid-faced man" (74). This stranger appears out of no where and warns the narrator that "'the great all-embracing, absolute Armistice, the end of the world, will occur at 5:30'" (74). This is happening in the Golden Day, before all hell breaks loose. The stolid-faced man appears again shortly thereafter, saying "'I told you it would occur at 5:30. Already the Creator has come'" (79). Perhaps this wat veteran is just a minor character; perhaps he is there just to demonstrate the insanity of the vets. But maybe his presence is something else. I'm not quite sure yet, but I hope to find out. That part was creepy to read, almost science-fiction-y (which could interpreted as a whole different message...). But I'm enjoying the novel so far! Sorry for the long-ish summary.