Ellison and music

As I’ve mentioned a few times, music is incredibly important to Ellison. He attended Tuskegee on a music scholarship, he was an obsessive collector of records, and he grew up in Oklahoma in the “swing era” amid musicians like guitarist Charlie Christian and band leader Count Basie. He was a bit old, in a sense, for the “bebop” that emerged in the 40s and rose to dominance in the 50s via players like Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, and Miles Davis, but he was a cogent critic of this emergent style and its fingerprints, so to speak, are on Invisible Man in various ways. Here’s a quick tour through some helpful musical contexts for the novel:

[for those interested in a deeper dive, there’s lots of scholarship on this topic. You might start with some of the interviews with prominent scholars on this site]

Peetie Wheatstraw was a real blues musician who called himself “the devil’s son-in-law.” Peter Wheatstraw in the novel is a bit more urbane and ironic, arguably, than the Peetie of this track, but you can at least catch the flavor of the Southern “Delta blues” tradition that Ellison references via the name here:

Peetie Wheatstraw – Devil’s Son-In-Law

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Charlie Christian was Ellison’s contemporary and also from Oklahoma City. He is a bridge figure between the swing era and bebop whose playing helped bring the electric guitar from its place as a “rhythm instrument,” playing chords as a harmonic foundation for the solo instruments, to a place as a solo instrument in its own right. Here’s his “Solo Flight”:

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Charlie Parker and Dizzie Gillespie are often pointed to as Godfathers of bebop, whose velocity and melodic invention radically reshaped jazz music, especially (to quote Invisible Man) by exploring the “uncertain extremes of the scale” (259). Here both do just that, in a wild ride that shows off the sheer velocity of the music of this moment:

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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.