What's in the box?

The briefcase from Invisible Man has interested me since I’ve noticed he’s been carrying with him throughout the entire novel. That stuck out to me because, although it’s like a backpack to a school student, things like that aren’t mentioned, especially in an Ellison novel, without some significance. Reading further into the suitcase and its origins, as well as it’s contents led to some interesting revelations…

                  We’ve gotta go back to where the narrator receives his suitcase: the battle royal. The battle royal chapter as a whole was pretty freaky, so being presented with a BEAUTIFUL AND GLORIOUS suitcase for his speech (disregarding the fact that the fighters got a terrible electric shock for trying to get some coins… we will come back to that later) isn’t so strange. He cherishes the suitcase, even throughout his time in Harlem. He never stops to think about who gave it to him and what that means. White upper class men found the narrator to be entertaining enough to receive a gift for his “performance.” I say this because although he supposedly receives it for his merit in his studies, the college he is sent to does hardly anything to give him a higher education. (And his speeches kinda suck) Though this is kind of a stretch, I think the suitcase could represent the burden of white supremacy he has to carry with him. What supports this claim may be found in the suitcases contents.

                  The first of many relevant contents in his suitcase are the letters he had received from Bledsoe. They were used to “keep him running” and also meant to further portray how Bledsoe used his subordinate act to make his way in the white dominated world. Although these letters are not permanent residents in the suitcase, they illuminate part of what the suitcase is about. A common link between the letters and the origins of the case is their connection with the oppressive and suffocating world around him. It’s as if no one wants the narrator to succeed!

                  The next thing we see placed into his briefcase is the chain Brother Tarp had given him during their heart to heart over black members of the brotherhood. Before putting the chain in the case, he had it displayed on his desk. Brother Westrum, another black member of the Brotherhood is offended by the narrator’s choice to display it and commands him to put it away, thus making the chain’s new home the narrator’s suitcase. These two different reactions to the chain (to embrace it and to hide it) could be seen as the two clashing opinions on how to treat the past of black Americans. We’ve seen through Brother Jack’s behavior that members of the Brotherhood fear racializing their speech, and get uncomfortable when race is brought up at all. The dismissal of race also dismisses the oppressive past that white Americans have imposed on their fellow black Americans. (Also making Brother Jack seem like a hypocrite by advocating for civil rights while ignoring/ being uncomfortable with the concept of race) Even though Brother Westrum is not white, he may still have been used to articulate this fear of the past similarly felt by Brother Jack. This whole dynamic can be bundled all into one with the symbol of the chain now carried by the narrator.

                  The briefcase is forgotten for a while until he returns to Mary’s home after getting his payment from the Brotherhood. His eyes are drawn directly to the freaky Americana bank. The bank, being a stereotype with absolutely no subtlety is worsened almost by the fact that the narrator is holding money in a similar way to how the bank is consuming money endlessly. The narrator shatters the bank, and metaphorically shatters the stereotype that black individuals are “money hungry.” He cleans up all of the coins, of course, he wouldn’t steal. (Which is also sort of a testament to how the stereotype is really not true.) The narrator desperately tries to get rid of the stupid broken bank but it keeps following him. Not only will it not freaking go away, but he gets hit with more stereotypes by the people trying to return the garbage to him. The bank seems to be some kind of metaphor for how inescapable stereotypes can be, especially in this period of American history. The narrator carries this sentiment with him now.

                  The Sambo doll, which is our next little friend in the case, is not as relevant as the context in which it was recovered. The doll represents more about what happened to Clifton, and the future of the narrator. After falling off the map, Clifton sells the Sambo dolls on a street corner in Midtown New York. The narrator focuses on the doll in the same way he focused on the bank, but when he sees Clifton he forgets about it. As Clifton flees the police, the narrator is drawn back to the dolls and retrieves it as opposed to crushing it. An interesting choice to make, maybe he learned his lesson from the bank? The narrator reflects on Clifton on his way home, asking himself why he would want to remove himself from society. This reflection is what made me think the doll is a representation of his future. Not the doll itself, but Clifton and his invisible lifestyle seems to be the closest to what the narrator is in the prologue…

                  Tell me what you think guys. What else could these objects represent? Do you think they mean anything?

EDIT (10/3/16)
Hi guys! After finishing the novel, I think a few more details can be analyzed to augment my beautiful post here.
Let's talk about the narrator returning to the burning building for the case. I'm not sure if this could be interpreted as him desperately trying to save what he thinks is still important, or if he really really holds his suitcase dear to him. I think the underground scene illuminates this a little. Today in class, Yamini made a really good comment discussing how liberating it was for the narrator to burn all of his papers, even if it was painful (finding out Jack was playing him from the start didn't feel very good). I think once the narrator fell into something he couldn't get out of, he had to compromise and sacrifice the papers to create light. The irony in this is he deliberately risked his life a few pages earlier to save the suitcase from burning.
It doesnt seem like he'd particularly miss any of the contents from his suitcase save for his highschool diploma which could have some sentimental value. He'd mostly been carrying around things he resented to some degree. 

Record Scratch Meme Discovered What Happens Next Will Amaze You

I keep thinking back to the prologue how it’s like a classic comedy film/ Adam Sandler beginning. A dramatic event occurs, I suppose in this case, his “mugging” escapade, or even his description of him sitting in his room zoning out hard to his record player under his 1,000 lights. Then we get the record scratch (maybe the Armstrong song is over lmao) and the freeze frame of our narrator facing the camera, with a voice over asking “wonder how I got in this mess? If I’m gonna tell you, we’ve gotta go way back.” (Some twenty years, to be exact (Chapter 1 page 1 line 1)) And that is when “Invisible Man” flashes across the movie screen.

If you’re having trouble visualizing this, here is the best example I could find. I don’t really watch this show but it pretty accurately parodies the trope, which, after doing some research I guess is never really used how everyone thinks it is… It’s not used in an Adam Sandler movie, nor is is typically used at the beginning of a movie, in fact, the only example of it being used at the beginning of a movie is in The Lion King ½. That’s not super important, though.

What I’m trying to say is, each chapter of the book is actually an individual anecdote grounded by a lesson on invisibility. It’s as if each chapter marks one step closer to the Narrator realizing his true self. The first few chapters are obvious, as they’re disconnected, and clearly hold “morals” to each event. For example, Chapter 1 is shows his grandfather giving his advice and the battle royal, which illustrates the invisibility the narrator experiences when the white men disregard his actual speech, and the actual reason he is even there, for entertainment. Chapter 2 shows Trueblood’s invisibility through black on black crime, and how little the white population is concerned with internal issues. Except that Trueblood seems to know how to pull on the heartstrings of the rich white men who want to “elevate” the population, and receives donations, similar to how Bledsoe manipulates his demeanor to maintain his power. And Chapter 3 features the vet, who really sticks it to Mr. Norton, and gives the Narrator his two cents on how much of a walking zombie he is for not seeing the underlying facades everyone is putting up.

These stories help to show the Narrator how many people wear tinted lenses, and some are able to manipulate their skewed view. Although later chapters flow into one another, each of them has a unique event that further enlightens the Narrator to the reality of ignorance, and how to control it to his favor. For example, chapters seven through ten seem to progress linearly, but each one has a “lesson” to learn. Chapter 7 has the Narrator on the bus with the vet and Crenshaw. The two discuss crime in the north, and the vet tells the Narrator he needs to forget the Mr. Nortons, not just “Mr. Norton” but the Norton’s. As if he will meet more people like him, and need to avoid them for his own sake. Chapter 8 is pretty open to interpretation because there isn’t any climactic event to unpack, but maybe it could be enlightened by Chapter 9, with his visit with Emerson. If that is the case, then maybe Chapter 8 is meant to show the hidden influence of Bledsoe as well as the “hidden” bosses in the chapter conspiring against the Narrator. Emerson shows the Narrator this in Chapter 9, and the Narrator finally begins to develop a conscience and a sense of defiance against the hidden bosses. Chapter 10 in the factory’s black and white imagery make commentary on the whole “there is no white without black” power structure in the U.S. at the time. Even further, though, we see how the Narrator’s new personality is dangerous. His lesson in this chapter may be that he is allowed to be violent.

I’m sure there are plenty other possible lessons the Narrator has learned in other chapters. Maybe you can think of some! I’m curious to see how our Narrator becomes the guy from the prologue.

An Intersection of Morality and Fear

Hi friends! This blog post references the novel The Stranger by Albert Camus. A lot of people in our class took 20^th Century Novel last year, and will be able to understand what I’m going to be talking about when I discuss the novel (which we read in that class). You should be able to understand the post without having read The Stranger, though, so stick around!

                  Let’s get basis of The Stranger out of the way here. The main character and our (very) good friend, Meursault has a very bleak outlook on life and as a result tends to be a little “insensitive.” On a day at the beach with one of his friends, he quite irrationally commits a murder by shooting an Arab man 5 times. Without any remorse or fear he is indicted and tried for premeditated murder and sentenced to death as the jury finds him an abomination to society for being so cold. We see in the second half of the novel how Meursault wrestles with existentialism and freedom. Albert Camus wrote The Stranger as an existentialist novel to discuss the significance of perceived morality and emotion in society. According to the citizens within The Stranger, to act against the norm is punishable by death. I guess you could call The Stranger a protest novel of sorts (?) though not as loaded as Native Son.

                  For those of you who have read Meursault’s story, hopefully reading the jail cell scenes in Native Son reminded you of some events in The Stranger. Bigger Thomas has his own episode of existentialist struggles. Some key differences between Bigger and Meursault stem primarily from their philosophy of life and what had commanded their actions. Meursault killed out of rage from the sun (the rage of a thousand suns actually lmao) and Bigger killed from panic and terror. Fundamentally, these two emotional motives are completely different and provide a base that will skew these two character’s stories in opposite directions with ultimately the same tragic ending.

                  Bigger Thomas is consumed by fear for what he has done to Mary. Nothing would please Bigger more than to escape to his life before he killed Mary, but, at the same time, he would lose out on the individuality he claimed by committing an unforgivable crime. He seems to find himself by killing Mary, but he also finds an uncontrollable need to escape. He knows that being caught would mean certain death, but he thinks also about the press coverage and the media attention he would receive. He seeks to relish his actions, a similar desire felt by Meursault before he is executed.

                  (On that note, actually, it seems like Bigger’s fear is present since the very moment he steps into the Dalton’s residence, whereas Meursault doesn’t fully feel the ramifications of his actions until he is sentenced to death. Both seem to be on extreme ends of the spectrum (Bigger less so than Meursault, but still). Tell me what you might think about that it seems like Bigger’s fear fades and Meursault’s hits him like a truck.)

                  Bigger is brought to jail and talks with his lawyer who slowly begins to understand his actions as he explains his fear of being in such an imposing white world. Meursault’s lawyer is alienated completely as Meursault has a blank personality and virtually no emotions and kind of acts like a robot and wont explain himself so his lawyer hates him.

                  Throughout their jail sentences they both meet with a priest who they both totally flip out on out of fear or hate. There is no god, they say, how could there be if this is what life is like! Upon being sentenced to death, Bigger is like “Yeah, I'll take it.” and Meursault freaks out hardcore. Bigger has had plenty of time to talk with Jan, Max, the Daltons, and his family. Meursault, on the other hand, doesn’t really have friends. His girlfriend visited him, but he ignored her the whole time, which is kind of a bummer for both of them tbh.

                  Anyways, it seems like these novels have a lot of similarities, but in each similarity, the role is reversed in a way. Can you think of other stories about people who murder people and then go to jail and get executed? I’m sure there are quite a few.