Non-Political Women

     Where do women fit into an organization called “The Brotherhood?” Though it isn’t hard to believe that women wouldn’t have positions of power in the Brotherhood, Invisible Man fails to represent politically active women at all, to the fault of author Ralph Ellison. The women The Invisible Man encounters in the Brotherhood are strangely disinterested in politics and overall negatively represented. 

     The Invisible Man has a troubling interaction with a white woman in the Brotherhood in Chapter 19. The novel states: 

Her problem… had to do with certain aspects of our ideology. ‘It’s rather involved, really,’ she said with concern, ‘and while I shouldn’t care to take up your time, I have a feeling that you –’ ‘Oh, not at all,’ I said. ‘But Brother, she said,’ ‘it’s really so late… my problem could wait until some other time…’ … ‘unless,’ she smiled, ‘I can induce you to stop by this evening (409-410).  

     The woman makes it seem like she’s interested in discussing the Brotherhood and having an intellectual conversation with The Invisible Man. However, she slyly offers to talk at her apartment which makes it obvious to the reader that she’s looking for sex. At the apartment, the two talk: “Please go on, tell me your ideas,’ she said… her hand light upon my arm. And I.. [was] carried away by my own enthusiasm and by the… wine… only when I turned [towards] her… I realized… she was leaning only a nose-tip away” (412-414). Every political topic the two discuss eventually leads back to the woman flirting with the Invisible Man. Ellison does not portray this woman as an authentically passionate member interested in discussing politics, but as a woman feigning political interest to lead a black Brother to her apartment for sex, which she accomplishes. 

     The next time The Invisible Man describes women in the Brotherhood is when female members find out about Tod Clifton’s death. Ellison writes, ‘‘Take me home,’ a girl screamed. ‘Take me home!’… I… caught her… ‘No, we can’t go home,” I said, ‘… We’ve got to fight’… One of the girls was still crying piteously” (448-449). The girls are stereotypically emotional about Clifton’s death. The screaming girl fits the “hysterical female” trope especially well. The girls, supposedly members of a political organization (The Brotherhood), appear to have no concern about what Clifton’s death means politically, unlike The Invisible Man who is calm, collected, and insightful about the situation. Though The Invisible Man later begins to question whether the best response to Clifton’s death is to be emotional or to only think about his death in a political context, the female members are still written unjustly. IM vaguely mentions that at the funeral, “There were tears and muffled sobs and many hard, red eyes” (451). However, these people are genderless. Ellison singles out the women when the despair surrounding Clifton’s death is discussed in more detail. These women are stereotypically emotional; their emotional despair is their only character trait. These youth members show no political intelligence or knowledge about the Brotherhood but are driven by their tears.  

     Ellison reduces female characters in the Brotherhood to either women controlled by their emotions or driven by sexual desire. Ellison doesn’t justly portray the large number of female activists in the early 20th century, especially when the novel takes place less than 20 years after women won the right to vote. He instead makes women out to be either too emotional or too sexual to be authentically concerned about political issues. Though Invisible Man fantastically covers the social complexities of being a black man in America, it’s essential to note the novel’s limitations. We can evaluate the novel critically by appreciating its strengths, accepting its flaws, and understanding that we can’t assume every sentence Ellison writes is credible.  

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.

The Privilege of Sexuality and Freedom of Sexual Thought in Invisible Man

Black-ish Little Girl in Elevator Scene

Blackish S03E04 Dre meets little white girl in elevator scene. https://twitter.com/blackishwriters/status/786379713891569664

Though this scene from Black-ish does not directly relate to what I discuss in the post, I think it does a great job of showing how a person’s blackness can affect every action. It reminds me of the scene where IM is freaking out when he’s pressed against the white woman in the subway: one accidental touch can be blown completely out of context.

     Have you ever been at a strip show and looked into the dancer’s eyes more than any other body part? Have you ever immediately thought about how a girl’s incestuous rape would affect you? Your answers to these questions may directly relate to your race. And if you’re the protagonist in Ralph Ellison’s novel Invisible Man, the answers to these questions are yes and yes. Ellison argues that The Invisible Man’s experience as an African American man shapes the way he thinks about sex, sexual violence, and acts in sexually charged situations. 

     The first encounter with sexuality in Invisible Man is at the Battle Royal scene when the dancer appears. The Invisible Man recalls, “I wanted at one [of her nipples] and the same time to run from the room, to sink through the floor, or go to her and cover her from my eyes and the caress her and destroy her, to love her and murder her” (19). The Invisible Man is attracted to the dancer like the white men at the hotel and even holds sexually violent thoughts about her. However, he also wants to look away from her, most likely because he knows the long history of black men being lynched for supposedly raping white women. The Invisible Man’s reality as a black man means he is not proud about his attraction towards the dancer. It’s dangerous for the Invisible Man to interact with or think about the white dancer because any supposed encounter with her could be his death sentence.  He cannot guilelessly treat her as a sexual object and his standing as an African American man affects how the Invisible Man and his peers behave towards the dancer.. This is especially apparent when the dancer is nearly raped. Ellison writes, “the men began reaching out to touch her. I could see their beefy fingers sink into the soft flesh… They caught her… tossed her twice… I… head[ed] for the anteroom with the rest of the boys… some were crying in hysteria” (20). The novel implies that only the white men attempt to rape the dancer because throughout the chapter they town’s white elites are always referred to as “the men” while the black students there to fight are “the boys.” The Invisible Man’s description of heading to the anteroom also implies that he and the other boys weren’t involved in the attack but left to get away. Part of the reason why the boys don’t have the (ludicrous) privilege to touch whomever they want. Quickly touching a white woman, not to mention violently assaulting her, could end these boys’ lives 

     The Invisible Man and his peers’ social standing as black men also affect their range of sympathy and empathy towards victims of sexual violence.  The Invisible Man further describes the dancer’s attempted rape, saying, “Above her red, fixed smiling lips I saw the terror and disgust in her eyes, almost like my own terror and that which I saw in the other boys… some [of the boys] were still crying and in hysteria” (20). The Invisible Man and the boys empathize with the dancer. Like her, they face violence by white men and are at their mercy. Empathy towards the dancer is specifically afforded because the dancer’s attackers are white. Later, The Invisible Man’s talks about his feelings towards Trueblood, the black man who claims to have raped and impregnated his daughter.  The only fleshed out comment The Invisible Man interjects into the narrative in between Trueblood’s story is, “How can [Trueblood] tell this to white men… when he says all Negros will do such things” (58)? Instead of sympathizing or empathizing with the Trueblood’s daughter, a victim of sexual violence like with the dancer, The Invisible Man is concerned about how the rape story will negatively impact the black community. The Invisible Man’s social standing as a black man veils him from feeling sympathy towards Matty Lou. The rapist in this story is black – unlike the white attackers at the Battle Royal. But more importantly, his mind is preoccupied by fear of how Trueblood’s story will affect the entire black race. Any feelings of sympathy he could have garnered towards the rape victim are blocked because The Invisible Man is rightfully fearful of how the white, racist world will attribute Trueblood’s actions to all black people. 

     Invisible Man argues that African Americans’ relationship and approach to sexuality is directly tied to their low social standing and their lives as constant victims of racism. The implication is heartbreaking as it shows one of the more hidden ways in which the black community is chained and how racism can affect every aspect of one’s life. However, the “end goal” for African American men shouldn’t be to become as sexually liberated as the white men in Invisible Man who freely attack the dancer. Balancing sexual freedom and proper restraint is a tricky issue, but perhaps the first step is the most and least obvious: have universal human respect. White men respecting both women and the black race could enable the latter group to become sexually free in thought and action without gaining the white man’s current freedom and “right” to be sexual predators. Less freedom for white men will equal more freedom for black men and make women safer. Like usual, the white men hold the most power to inflict change with the least incentive to do good. 

(In)visibility in Chapters 5-12

This section of Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison focuses heavily on themes brought up in Fanon’s writing (as well as that of other authors we have read so far); namely the interplay of visibility and vision with perception and consciousness.  Symbols of vision in these chapters vary, but tell the audience a lot about the narrator’s psyche and give us clues about the path he takes to end up as the narrator from the introduction.

One of the most obvious symbols is blindness, most clearly illustrated in Pastor Barbee’s sermon at the university. He stands before the crowd, chronicling the fantastic and unbelievable achievements of the Founder, painting such a vivid, visceral, and moving scene with his words that audience members begin to cry and shout out (pp 97). However, both the fantastic nature and convenient moral of these stories suggest that they may be exaggerated if not entirely too good to be true. After all, what are the odds of surviving a gunshot to the head due to the help of a mysterious stranger and a  seemingly demented black man” with “ a surprising knowledge of such matters“? (pp 95) How did the founder seem to be so unaffected by race in a time that was so clearly riddled with racism and discrimination? Furthermore, the constant stress of race throughout this speech, (both on some white people as allies and on some black people as foes to the cause) and the emphasis to pull oneself up by the bootstraps (pp 103) are reminiscent of the narrator’s earlier speech about the future success of black Americans hinging on their ability to know their place and cooperate with white Americans. Together, these facts suggest that this story may be being twisted in order to fit the college’s agenda of pleasing its white donors. This is further supported by Dr. Blesdoe’s later statements concerning power at the college being acquired by lying to the white partners and telling them what they want to hear (pp 108). The fact that after leading the congregation on this moving (and on many levels, very visual) journey, Barbee proceeds to trip due to his blindness alludes to the classic idiom of the blind leading the blind, further suggesting that he does not know the truth, but has created a truth (similar to the truth Blesdoe speaks about when reprimanding the narrator [pp 112]).

In a similar vein, Ellison uses distorted vision, mainly in the narrator, as a metaphor for inner turmoil and identity crisis. His inability to see clearly and perceive what is going on during the fight with Brockway is one example of this. Although this fight erupts suddenly, it results from the accumulation of stress over having no say in how he is perceived by others, and in the moment that he lashes out most violently, unable to see the difference between teeth and a knife, the narrator loses sight of who he momentarily. The most intense distortion of his vision, however, comes with the accident in the paint factory and his hospital visit. This is a watermark moment in the narrator’s story (especially given the implication of lobotomy) that changes how he will see himself moving forward, so as that change fully takes hold, he loses his clear perception of the world around him.

Finally, there is the vision of others. Particularly important are the scenes where the narrator is being viewed or not viewed. As the novel’s title would suggest, most people do not see the invisible man as he truly is — the refusal of the white professionals with whom Blesdoe connects him to even come out of their offices to see him is the most poignant example of this. They see a paper, a profile, not a man. When he talks to the director of the paint company, vision is only mentioned in reference to moments where the narrator is acting strangely (not a true representation of who the narrator is), and mostly seem to focus on the unease of the director. Finally, there are the interactions between the union members, the narrator, and Brockway. The narrator is not allowed to represent or even speak for himself — instead, he is characterized by the assumptions of these characters based on the actions of people other than himself (the finks or the black unionists, respectively). In his words:

“ It was as though by entering

the room I had automatically applied for membership — even though I had

no idea that a union existed, and had come up simply to get a cold pork

chop sandwich. I stood trembling, afraid that they would ask me to join but

angry that so many rejected me on sight. And worst of all, I knew they were

forcing me to accept things on their own terms, and I was unable to leave.” (pp 172)

That being said, there are those who do seem to see him more truly and directly, such as Miss Mary, who can see that he needs help and is willing to offer it. She sees his potential, sees his personhood, and is able to act as a “constant” in his life. However, there are occasions where what she sees in him is the future and the change that she hopes the black youth of the country (and particularly of the South) will usher in. Despite her relatively clear vision, even Mary can lose sight of who the narrator is, giving rise to his moments of frustration with her as he counts on her to be a constant as he figures out who he is for himself.