A Novel Ripe With Easter Eggs

 

Ellison scatters numerous objects and symbols throughout Invisible Man that may seem nonessential at first glance. A pair of dark-lensed glasses, a briefcase, or even a slip of paper are not mere objects in this novel, but instead, symbols of great yet implicit importance. The text does have its fair share of dramatic and overbearing moments, but nonetheless, Ellison is an author who does not take lightly the impactful things that one can convey through subtle writing. He successfully carries out a concept commonly known to writers, that when writing about something unjust or somber, one should write about the “forlorn teddybear” instead of the obvious bombing and gore that comes with war. In a way, the Invisible Man is caught in his own war with society and himself. In order to convey these inner and outer struggles, Ellison plants various objects throughout his novel like a trail of bigoted hints. Or as pop culture calls it, “Easter Eggs”.

The novels unnamed narrator is struck with anger and disgust when he lays eyes on a cast iron bank in the form of a “very black, red-lipped and wide-mouthed Negro” (319). The object sits plainly in the home of Mary Rambo, an African-American herself, noticed for the first time by the Invisible Man. The caricatured bank is a piece of “early American” and can be fed coins into its “grinning mouth”. The discriminatory nature of this item is blatant, so one cannot blame the narrator for destroying it in a fit of anger. But there is more to this item than a sense of prejudice, Ellison includes this bank in the novel to evoke larger meanings. The grinning nature of the bank can be connected to the words of the narrator’s grandfather, specifically, “I want you to overcome ’em with yeses, undermine ’em with grins, agree ’em to death…” (16). What is this object but another symbol of a conforming African, discriminated against yet agreeing with the dominant group for his own sake, just as his grandfather preached? The item can even be connected back to Trueblood, who towards the beginning of the novel, is continuously rewarded for the animalistic act of having sex with his daughter. He is paid good money for being the primitive and unintelligent caricature that white people expected African males to be. In response, the narrator states, “You no-good bastard! You get a hundred-dollar bill!” (69). Like the cast iron bank, Trueblood disgusts the Invisible Man, and both items are of his contempt.

The items and symbols utilized by Ellison are not only “Easter Eggs” but tools used to uphold the narrator as a sort of “Running Man”. In The Running Man As Metaphor In Ellison’s Invisible Man, Phyllis R. Klotman states, “Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man is the culmination of the Running Man metaphor, the electric “umbilical cord” that connects the running men past to those of the present” (277). This idea is frequently expressed through the briefcase that the Invisible Man is given at the early start of the novel. The “gleaming calfskin brief case” gifted to him initially contains an academic scholarship and goes on to be the shell that encloses all sorts of objects from the remnants of the cast iron bank to a dead man’s doll. Most notable are two slips of paper that are eventually burned by the end of the book, one that holds his “new name” and the other a menacing threat.The briefcase is a part of him, a calfskin limb, something that holds meaning and leads him to revelation. The item treads on the heels of the protagonist as some sort of constant reminder of his mistakes and his experiences. Even more implicit and impactful is the narrators’ decision to burn the contents of his briefcase at the end of the novel in order to lessen the darkness and produce light. Ellison states, “I started with my high-school diploma, applying one precious match with a feeling of remote irony, even smiling…” (567). The irony is hinted at, but the significance in the Invisible Man burning his own high-school diploma after literally being trapped underground has various levels of deep meaning to it. It could’ve been an old scrap of ordinary paper, but Ellison’s decision to make it something academic and personal is no mistake.

The Invisible Man is not only invisible, but is a figure who is running from himself and the cultural expectations thrust upon him by his grandfather, those he admires, and the deceitful brotherhood. The history and contents of his briefcase, as well as his reaction to the cast iron bank are examples that not only point to his inner turmoil but showcase how every significant story is made up of a string of implicit meanings.

Invisibility and One’s Own History

 

The somber yet absorbing start of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man reveals a narrator who is driven and whole-heartedly affected by the past. Whether it be the life and death of his ancestors or his own previous mistakes, the narrator doesn’t let the bygone moments of life pass by without analysis. The ghost of his grandfather is not only a memory or a warning, but a looming figure that constantly haunts and pesters him. The protagonist is an individual who is trying to get by in life like any other, although the shadows of his past seem to always be lurking by, ready to blur the present.

The first chapter of the novel begins with a sort of historical and biographical introduction to the narrator, one with a strong emphasis on slavery and freedom. Ellison states, “And yet I am no freak of nature, nor of history…I am not ashamed of my grandparents for having been slaves. I am only ashamed of myself for having at one time been ashamed” (15). At this early point of the novel the protagonist makes it clear that he doesn’t necessarily look down on his race or his past, but instead looks down upon his former embarrassment. This assertion is a driving force throughout the entire first chapter, as a sense of back and forth between being ashamed and being proud persists. Soon after the narrator begins discussing his grandfather, who advised him to live with his head “in the lion’s mouth”. Hearing his grandfather label himself as a traitor on his own deathbed alters the way in which the narrator perceives himself throughout the rest of the chapter. This is evident when Ellison states, “When I was praised for my conduct I felt a guilt…It made me afraid that some day they would look upon me as a traitor…The old man’s words were like a curse” (17). And from this moment in the novel and on his grandfather’s words truly remain as some kind of curse, clear throughout the events to come.

At the beginning of his speech to a rowdy group of white men, the narrator proclaims, “We of the younger generation extol the wisdom of that great leader and educator” (Ellison 29). Although these words may seem like the typical first phrases of a graduation speech, there is an implicit sense of insecurity in his words. The narrator has a tendency of always appealing to or remaining on the good side of the dominant group, whether it be those who are white or those who are simply older. It seems to be a bad habit of the narrator, one that he can’t help but have in a society and time that oppresses the African American. As the chapter comes to a close and the narrator, his fingers “a-tremble” receives a college scholarship, unease endures. “Keep This Nigger-Boy Running” is the message the protagonist receives through his grandfather in a dream, a dream that he continues to have for many years.

In the introduction to New Essays on Invisible Man, Robert O’Meally states, “What is the shape of history?… How does one know the self? The other?” (9). The questions posed by this quote ring true throughout the first chapter of Invisible Man, as intellectual issues faced by the narrator and the universe alike. It is a difficult question of history and science, art and politics, and finding one’s overall purpose in society. Invisible Man’s narrator struggles to make his way through the rough American plain that is the Harlem Renaissance period, but by keeping a firm eye on his past he may be able to do himself and his grandfather some justice.

White Writers and Their Portrayals of Other Races

 

The white writers of today’s contemporary literature should all familiarize themselves with the culturally significant ideas presented in Claudia Rankine and Beth Loffreda’s article, “On Whiteness And The Racial Imaginary”. White writers, or “writers writing about race these days”, have a tendency to include characters of other races in their writing for the simple purpose of adding some diversity, which Rankine and Loffreda deem as reckless and untrue. The popular defense that these writers take is the idea that they’re free to use their imaginations in any way they please, and that any criticism hinders their individual creativity. Rankine and Loffreda point out a fact that should be obvious to all writers, which is that publishing your writing isn’t a mere act of your imagination. Instead, that writing is read and digested by many and has the power to shape how readers view specific races and even their own identities.

This doesn’t mean that writers should abstain from creating characters of other races, but they must instead acknowledge the cultural consequence behind the way they write about race. According to Rankine and Loffreda, a white individual crafting an inaccurate depiction of an African American is just as harmful as any racial slur or inaccurate stereotype. In reference to these imaginative acts, the authors state, “So to say, as a white writer, that I have a right to write about whoever I want, including writing from the point of view of characters of color…is to make a mistake”. Both writers implore that authors question “why” they’d like to include outside cultures in their work, instead of just doing so blindly.

In “The Fact of Blackness”, Frantz Fanon approaches the issue of whites writing about other races similarly, but through film. In relation to the film If He Hollers Let Him Go, Fanon writes, “I cannot go to a film without seeing myself. I wait for me. In the interval, just before the film starts, I wait for me. The people in the theatre are watching me, examining me, waiting for me” (265). Fanon expresses that not only does this portrayal of a “Negro” affect the self-confidence of the African American and feed the racist ego of the white man, but it creates an uncomfortable atmosphere for minorities in social situations. To portray a certain race or minority through art is to represent an entire population, and that is something that Fanon shows should not be taken lightly.

Times have changed drastically between the publishing of “On Whiteness And The Racial Imaginary” and “The Fact of Blackness”, however, there are still critical issues that remain. Unlike the 1950s, it has become unacceptable among society to include African American characters in novels and films that are racist caricatures. However, although we have progressed in that sense, white writers are still crafting characters of other races that are inaccurate. As Rankine and Loffreda state, “White writers can get explosively angry when asked to recognize that their racial imaginings might not be perfect…”. What Rankine and Loffreda seem to propose is that in order for the white writer to write say, a true African American character, they must exercise patience and care. It is not something they can just delve right into with ease, as they aren’t African American themselves and can’t automatically envision their personality and experience. In Sarah Schulman’s article “White Writer” she points to Carson McCullers, a female writer who managed to capture race, gender, and status in an accurate manner. McCullers challenged stereotypes and dynamics as well as focusing on the humanity of her characters. Writing about race or creating a character outside of your own isn’t an impossible or hostile feat, but should be done with alert consideration.

To crack open a book and find an inaccurate depiction of your race or to walk into a theatre and feel the discomfort of a false portrayal, are situations that no one wants to be in. The evident message in “On Whiteness And The Racial Imaginary” is the simple fact that white writers need to reconstruct the way they write about race. Following this mindset is something that will not only increase the authenticity of literature but also the way in which authors approach diversity.

Not all can afford to be a transparent eyeball

 

Ralph Waldo Emerson makes his transcendental message blatantly clear in the accusatory first paragraph of his essay, “Nature”. In implementing the idea that modern society should spend less time reading and socializing, and more time encompassed by nature, he fails to recognize the unrealistic standards he is setting.  Emerson states, “…why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe? The sun shines to-day also.” So early in his essay, Emerson has already established biases and boundaries between society and nature. While intellectual items such as books and historical works are deemed as “dry bones”, nature is represented by the gold, gleaming sun. Navigating through one’s life as a “transparent eyeball” is likely to make for an oblivious existence, rather than the soulful one that Emerson glorifies. Emerson does raise some convincing points regarding natures evident importance, however, his lack of objectivity makes his message far-fetched and nonrealistic.

W.E.B DuBois’ The Souls of Black Folk, reveals exactly why it is impossible for one to completely delve themselves into nature and ignore the intellectual expectations of society. Dubois expresses that in order for the blacks of the South to have power, they must provide themselves with a ripe and formal education, as he himself did. In his piece, DuBois writes, “He simply wishes to make it possible for a man to be both a Negro and an American, without being cursed and spit upon by his fellows, without having the doors of Opportunity closed roughly in his face.” By acknowledging the strife faced by African Americans in society, DuBois indicates that the minorities of America do not have the privilege of isolating themselves in nature. He expresses that as much as they may wish, there will always be a veil of judgment between the African American and the white man, and as a result, they must keep themselves educated and ahead of the game.

In The Veil Transcended: Form and Meaning in W. E. B. DuBois’ “The Souls of Black Folk” Brodwin states a simple yet revealing line, “The spiritual compensations for such sacrifice could be great…” (1).  Both “Nature” and The Souls of Black Folk contain elements of spiritual meaning, although used in different contexts. And while Emerson preaches transcendentalism, DuBois strives for basic civil rights and spiritual contentment. Clearly, one is more obligatory than the other.

The books and historical knowledge that Emerson considers to be distracting, are what DuBois believes to be the only objects that could assist African Americans in climbing the social ladder. “The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child.” Although the point that Emerson makes in the following quote is in regards to the innocence of children, it ironically showcases his own childishness. It may be advisable to retain some childlike aspects of yourself in order to live happily, but to constantly relish in that unblemished mist is self-damaging. The African American in DuBois’ world could only do so if they wanted to submit to a life of ignorance. There may be beauty in the “heavenly worlds” that Emerson describes, but one can only ponder the sunsets of nature for so long. And for a black individual, that would mean an eternity behind America’s color-line.

The “veil” described by DuBois is what most notably counteracts Emerson’s view of nature. DuBois reiterates throughout “Of Our Spiritual Strivings” that the veil is a borderline that will always exist between the blacks and whites of American society. “To be a poor man is hard, but to be a poor race in a land of dollars is the very bottom of hardships.” However, what is more difficult than merely being black in America, is being a black individual who lacks the knowledge and awareness that comes from education. One is rather educated and aware of the veil or ignorant of the veil and everything else in society. This further supports the idea that many in modern society cannot simply indulge themselves in the peace of nature. How could a minority in such an unequal world relent to a life of nature and meditation, when there are so many injustices in the world to question?

Emerson may not have been writing his essay through an ultimately political viewpoint, however, it is hard not to consider how difficult it is for minorities to follow his suggestions. “Nature” is almost like a chapter out of a fantasy novel, as it largely contains unrealistic advice that is hard for most to relate to. The Souls of Black Folk, instead, illuminates the irrationality of Emerson’s piece. Rather than isolating oneself from the issues and expectations of society, one should make themselves aware of the surmounting social problems in America.