Thursday, September 29, 2016

Rogue Agent

In class, we were talking about whether or not the narrator was still part of the Brotherhood. He still receives paychecks from them, lives in the apartment they gave him, and works in their offices. But he no longer agrees with their ideals and wants to discover the real motivation behind the committee's sketchy behavior. In summary, he is still part of the Brotherhood but is following his own agenda. He is determined to "agree and grin the Brotherhood to death" to keep them from suspecting his treachery. This follows his grandfather's philosophy of seeming meek on the surface but on the inside knowing he is at war. This rogue agent dynamic is the most solid identity the narrator has had so far.

In an almost James Bond-like way the narrator truly believes in what the Brotherhood says their ideals are but suspects corruption and decides to do things his own way. He keeps them off his trail by feeding the Brotherhood false information like the amount of new members they have gained since their policies changes. He even tries his hand at womanizing even though he is kind of unsuccessful because Sybil refuses to cooperate. The Brotherhood also seems to fully trust him. He is granted almost 00 status as one of their best speakers and when the riots break  out in Harlem, he is the one that receives the frantic call.  Although the narrator runs uptown to see what's going on, he is no longer just running because he was called, he is running toward something where he knows he has agency and can make a difference. He is no longer being kept running, but is actively running out of his own accord. 

In the past, the Brotherhood was limiting the narrator's identity by literally telling him he was not hired to think and that he was supposed to blindly accept their cult-like beliefs. Once he, again, wakes up and rejects their lack of individual thought he finds that ability to express himself which he has been craving the entire novel. However, this identity comes with a catch. He can be an individual if he is not detected by the oppressing powers of the Brotherhood. He is a spy and all good spies learn to be invisible. And one more time, Ellison's genius introduces the paradox of the narrator's identity being the uniqueness of lacking one. 

Friday, September 16, 2016

Racial Baggage

In our latest reading of Invisible Man, the part that especially stood out to me was the section where the narrator accidentally breaks a bank at Mary's house and then desperately tries to  get rid of the pieces with no success. I thought the passage was really odd so naturally, because this is Ellison, there must be an underlying meaning. 

When the narrator first breaks the bank, Mary is just outside the door and he's frantically trying to hide the pieces without her noticing that he's shattered the thing. He decides that the best way to get rid of them is to wrap them up in a napkin, hide the bundle in his coat pocket, and throw it out once he's outside. The first bin that he throws it in belongs to a white woman who flips out when she sees. She makes him pull it out, all the while yelling racist things and threatening to call the police. The narrator then decides to leave it on the street but a man notices and tries to hand it back to him. When the narrator denies that it belongs to him, the man assumes it's drugs and that the narrator is trying to frame him. After all of the lack of success, the narrator decides to just keep it in his briefcase and throw it out later.

The significance of this scene is unclear but it might represent the baggage the narrator can't seem to get rid of even as he moves on with his life. He is moving out of Mary's and getting a new apartment but he has to take something broken with him and hide it. The narrator tries to get rid of it but the white people won't let him. This could be an allegory for how, even in the North, white people won't let the narrator forget that he is black. They won't let him just throw it away and move on with his life because racial prejudices are still an important part of society. The next man the narrator meets is convinced that the narrator is destined for trouble. He assumes he is selling drugs or is concealing a gun, both stereotypes of black people. He says he hopes he ends up in jail. The narrator is surprised by the reactions of both the lady and the man but he accepts their opinions of him and keeps the bundle with him. When he gets to his new apartment, he leaves the bundle in his briefcase. A symbol of how his blackness will continue to affect his career. 

Friday, September 2, 2016

The Blind and the Crazy

The latest chapter we read was the scene at The Golden Day. After all of the chaos downstairs ensues, a supposedly doctor-veteran takes the narrator and Mr. Norton upstairs. The veteran remarks on how blind they both are. He says to them, 
"Poor stumblers, neither of you can see the other. To you he is a mark on the scorecard of your achievement, [...] a black amorphous thing. And you, for all your power, are not a man to him, but a God, a force."
The veteran's social critique is very similar to what the narrator says in the prologue: "I am invisible, simply because people refuse to see me." Mr. Norton and the narrator are not real people to each other, instead they are just symbols of something they want to achieve. They are not invisible because of their lack of substance, but due to the other's blindness.

This lack of identity happens often when people are grouped together and generalized. Several times, the narrator is told he will bring credit to "his people" or has to make "his people" look good. This distinction of "my people" and "your people" separates two groups and creates for Mr. Norton that "black amorphous thing" which he only sees as an opportunity to be a humanitarian.

Typically it is the white people who refer to the black people as "your people" but at The Golden Day, Mr. Norton becomes a "white amorphous thing". When he arrives the veteran all call him something different: General Pershing, Thomas Jefferson, John D. Rockefeller, and even the Messiah. All of these names are ideas of power that reflect the way the veterans see the entire white population.

The doctor-veteran points out that white Mr. Norton and the black narrator are equally guilty of being blind. Neither of them take kindly to being called out and dismiss him as crazy. Ellison's social critique is extremely ironic because he has the character that has made the most sense so far be someone who is mentally unstable. Because of this, the doctor-veteran isn't given any credit for his insights. In a way, he too, is invisible.