Invisible Man

The invisibility of the narrator isn't merely a physical state but rather a profound psychological one. He feels inconspicuous in the eyes of society, insignificant and infinitesimal. The indifference society shows him intensifies his sense of alienation and invisibility. It's not that he doesn't exist; rather, in the eyes of the world, his existence seems to matter little. What is the crime he is guilty of? Being black. His blackness is like an imprisonment deeper than any jail cell, casting him into a darkness devoid of light and color, save for the very skin color by which he is judged. The only glimmer of hope is his futile struggle to regain his humanity.

The narration commences with Dostoevskian aplomb as a diffident and disaffected man begins to detail all the elements contributing to his invisibility, starting from his university days. Back then, he was relatively whole and hopeful, able to appreciate the fleeting glimmers of beauty that crossed his path. But then, his cynicism blinded him, leaving him only seeing the ugliness of the world.

“At the sound of the vespers, I moved across the campus with groups of students, walking slowly. Their voices were soft in the mellow dusk. I remember the yellowed globes of frosted glass making yellow silhouettes on the gravel and the walk of the leaves and branches above us as we moved slowly through the dusk, so restless with scents of lilac, honeysuckle, and verbena, and the feel of spring greenness…”

However, the narrator's happiness is abruptly cut short by a mishap involving a rich, white patron, which leads to his expulsion from the university. This incident serves as a catalyst for a series of misfortunes. From a brief stint in a paint factory that nearly results in a fatal experience, to his involvement with the Brotherhood, a Black Rights movement. Initially, the narrator acts as an orator for the Brotherhood, but he eventually rebels against the realpolitik and dogmatism that dominate the movement. Its core aim is to control rather than help African-Americans, an insidious, albeit watered-down, replica of the bondage that African-Americans endured under Whites.

Against all of this, the overarching feeling the narrator experiences is one of hostility. There is the hostility of the college president, Dr. Bledsoe, towards his blunder. The hostility of the union in the paint factory. The hostility of the villainous Brockway in the factory basement. The hostility of the members of the movement who view his emotional appeals to their supporters as unscientific and rooted in sentimentality. And the hostility of Brother Jack, who feels threatened by his rapid rise within the movement. This hostility is like a chain around his neck, weighing him down. Just as the anger of the crowd in the prize-fight he had to participate in to gain entrance to the university paralyzed him, rendering him unable to act, think, or do anything but exist in a world that refuses to see him.

“When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.”

Reading "Invisible Man" during a visit to New York was an extremely touching experience. It was an amazing bonus to be able to follow in the footsteps of the young man grappling with racial and political identity questions. The tangible presence of New York life enhanced the reading, and the city added flavor and sound to the story. Hearing the noise, walking in the lights of the advertisements, and seeing the faces from all corners of the world made the main character's confusion and freedom of identity choice palpable. And being a stranger in New York myself, I became an invisible woman, absorbing the atmosphere without being noticed.

Following the successes and misfortunes of the narrator, this novel also shapes the identity of the reader. You can't avoid the big questions embedded in the story. What is reality? What is scientifically true? How do we approach our given environment? Are words more powerful than actions or vice versa? Is there a logical chain of causes and effects between verbal instigation and violent action? Is there objective justice? How do we define it?

The answers are not straightforward, but the narrator encourages the reader to attempt to embrace and understand the various changing forms that human beings assume over the course of their lives. It is better to fully live your own absurd life than to die for the absurdity of others' ideas:

“I was pulled this way and that for longer than I can remember. And my problem was that I always tried to go in everyone's way but my own. I have also been called one thing and then another while no one really wished to hear what I called myself. So after years of trying to adopt the opinions of others I finally rebelled. I am an invisible man.”

Must-read!

Favourite quote:

“Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.”

Postscript: Rereading this review in March 2017, after witnessing the rapid change in America since last summer, I am filled with sadness that we can never assume that we have left a certain kind of populism and racist propaganda behind, and that human rights can still be treated with farcical disrespect. I won't return to New York for the time being. However, the novel is more recommended than ever.

The book being discussed here is truly an outstanding achievement. It forces the reader to confront the profound depth of racism and the harsh reality of its consequences. The story is narrated by a voice that initially emerges from an unusual place, striving for invisibility and living hidden underground. As the narrative progresses, we come to understand what led the narrator to this state.

The beginning of the book is simply fabulous, vividly描绘 the narrator's horrific experiences at school in the late 1940s American South. The events that unfold during his college years are equally engaging, keeping the reader riveted. However, around the halfway point, something changes. The narrator starts to lose the reader's attention. It could be due to the style, the structure, or the heavy reliance on symbolism. But whatever the reason, it becomes increasingly difficult to stay focused.

Despite the struggle, the reader perseveres through to the end. The story is so important that it demands to be heard. The substance and uniqueness of the book are definitely worthy of five stars. However, the writing style didn't quite resonate with the reader. Normally, this would be a significant factor in determining the rating. But in this case, the book has managed to get under the reader's skin. It continues to linger in the mind, even after it has been finished. For this reason, an additional star must be awarded. In the end, the rating is a somewhat reluctant four stars.

“I was my experiences and my experiences were me, and no blind men, no matter how powerful they became, even if they conquered the world, could take that, or change one single itch, taunt, laugh, cry, scar, ache, rage or pain of it.”

[update 4/27/2019]: I've spent countless years grappling with how to review this work. Maybe I'll never truly be satisfied, but here's an excerpt from elsewhere on this site. Up until the winter of 2004 - 2005, I had been reading a decent number of books given to me. However, it was an assignment to write a report on Ralph Ellison that would change my perspective forever. It made me open my eyes to the world in general and my place in it. In particular, it turned me into a serious book-reader. At that time, I didn't consider myself a \"bibliophile\", but I was now on the path.

I've always found it extremely challenging to describe the profound impact that Invisible Man had on me. It jolted me out of my dogmatic slumber. Like most, I had lived in a world where I knew things were more precarious and arbitrarily cruel for me because of my ethnicity. But I didn't truly question - or perhaps I should say I didn't have the question put to me in such an intense way. In truth, I wasn't aware enough to question why or what it meant to go through life as a black man, always having a different set of rules to follow compared to the “mainstream” Americans I heard about on TV. Life in my neighborhood was precarious, with danger and the threat of death constantly looming like an ever-present miasma.

It was into this world that I sat down and opened a borrowed, tattered copy of Invisible Man and read that incredible first paragraph of the prologue:

“I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids -- and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination -- indeed, everything and anything except me.”

By the time I had finished reading the whole prologue, I was completely stunned. It felt as if lightning had been inscribed into my soul, and I was struggling to understand what I had just read. I was about to turn 14, and I had never read anything like that in my life. Maybe in the Bible there were some epic passages that came close, but to find something that so accurately summed up what my - and many people around me - life was like, and I had only read the first twelve pages of the novel. After spending a few months just reading that prologue and finally feeling confident enough to continue, I went on to read the rest of the novel and decided that I had to read everything by this man and understand how to see the world as he did.

[update 9/27/2013: OH BOY, it seems like this book has made the news...and yes, human stupidity is involved. I've never hidden the fact on this site that I'm a HUGE fan of this book. When I found out that this book had been banned by the Randolph County [school board], North Carolina for having no \"merit\", just before banned books week, the irony couldn't have been more palpable. The book details the personal, cultural, and existential alienation and forced invisibility of the main character and others like him. It won the National Book Award in 1953, beating out Earnest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea and John Steinbeck's East of Eden. It has been ranked on almost every list of the greatest novels of the 20th century and is one of, if not the greatest, novel of post-war America. The fact that this book could be banned in the 21st century shows that it's still incredibly important, and the themes it presents are more relevant than ever. The thing about banning a book is that it usually increases interest in it, and this was no exception. Demand for the book doubled just days after it was banned. What surprised me was the forceful and decisive public outcry. Only 10 days after it was banned (by a 5 - 2 vote), the ban was overturned (by a 6 - 1 vote). So it seems our nameless narrator can, for the time being, come out of his \"hole\" in Randolph County, NC.]

[Original Review]
...I'm at a loss as to where to start with this one. I guess everyone who loves to read has that one special book. This book is that for me. Before I read it, I didn't really have an opinion or view on anything, especially not on race or politics. I picked up this book in the 8th grade as part of an assignment on the author, and my aunt just happened to have a worn-out copy. Let's just say that it opened my eyes to the world around me, and I still can't fully comprehend the impact it has had on me. I've read many books since, some of which could be considered \"better\", but I still hold this book closest to my heart. And well, I know this isn't a proper review (I may write one later), but this is a book I would recommend without hesitation to anyone.

Referring to something, I remembered that I haven't written anything about this book. However, it was needed and it's something I see as a duty. I wasn't looking for something to shock me last summer. I was experimenting with myself, trying to wake myself up from a slump of bad mood, self-pity and obsession with the episodes of Pouaros on YouTube. Along the way, I noticed many books. I didn't notice this book because it bit me in the nose. I didn't have any degree of willingness to be moved, I didn't have any desire to deepen, neither to stay awake at night, nor to smoke a lot of cigarettes. What I wanted was, by skipping work, to forget that I exist. I can't avoid the cliché that says you see what's happening in your world and you say wake up you bad mood, you misled one and see how some things have happened and have acquired a murderous beauty, like stories, but which weren't stories. Maybe this book isn't the Spanish Testament, which describes a peak. But it talks about the slow death that the majority can achieve over a people, who nevertheless didn't give up their culture, didn't let go so much. And yet this consists of many small stories of people who didn't go so well. Who compromised, who lowered their heads, who said sorry and thank you for stepping on my foot. It's a story of growing up and deepening and self-definition. And maybe I don't say it so well, I don't analyze it particularly, but it's a book that talks about depth. The depth that exists through the eyes, through the blood, this central idea that is connected with nerves and blood vessels with the central image, which makes us so different and at the same time, so cyclopic. And we all have existed deviating and we all have compromised and we all would like there not to be something in the middle and to step on ourselves with a happy masochism, together with the others. But come on, because something exists. And what exists will never stop showing, no matter how small we become like balls, no matter how unnoticed we allow ourselves to become. Our essence is there.

This book is truly a remarkable feat of virtuosity.

It chronicles the journey of the protagonist, who also serves as the narrator, towards absolute disillusionment. At the start of the story, we encounter the narrator as a cynical individual, seething with rage and even acting upon it in the streets of New York. Then, he commences to narrate his life, beginning naturally from childhood. As a Black child in the American South and later as a young Black man, the narrator believes that adhering to the rules set by the system and behaving as expected by the authorities will ensure his happiness and prosperity. However, disenchantment sets in soon after a series of comical events lead to his expulsion from college. As he navigates through life, each step brings one disillusion after another, transforming the unknowing and hopeful young boy we met at the beginning into a completely different man.

This is a "great" book by all the usual standards. It has a wide scope, presenting an adventure of sorts as one discovery leads to another. The passages are imaginatively vivid, the characters are unforgettable, and it speaks to the present (unfortunately, still relevant). Despite being published eight decades ago, it reads very fresh. There is an ironic and comical tone that holds the extraordinary events and images in place. I am still astounded by how good this book is. It was a challenging read, and I took several days after completion to even consider reviewing it. I was tempted to give it five stars without a review, partly because much of what I wanted to say has already been said by others, and partly because I was so thoroughly impressed that I struggled to find clear and coherent words to express how Ellison maintains a sharp vision through the madness.

Oppression, with all its monstrosity, gives birth to further monstrosity, both on those who enact it and on those who suffer from it. I have only read a few fictional works that depict it as succinctly as this one does, and even fewer with such elegance.

The Invisible Man is the winner of the 1953 National Book Award.

It is widely regarded as one of the defining novels of the 20th century. Racism and bigotry are not confined to the South; they exist everywhere in various forms and layers. Ellison, with his masterful writing style and prose, vividly portrays this reality.

The novel has a profound impact and influence on the reader, forever altering the way one views their place in society and how their actions affect the lives of those around them.

Revised in February 2016, this classic work continues to resonate with readers today, serving as a powerful reminder of the importance of confronting and challenging prejudice and discrimination.

It stands as a testament to Ellison's literary genius and his ability to capture the complex and often painful experiences of marginalized communities.

Whether you are a student of literature or simply someone interested in exploring the human condition, The Invisible Man is a must-read.

\"If social protest is antithetical to art,\" Ellison stated in an interview with The Paris Review, \"what then shall we make of Goya, Dickens, and Twain?\" I found this interview truly stimulating. Ellison's narrator's voice seems to transcend the pages of this book and merge with the countless current events. \"Perhaps, though, this thing cuts both ways,\" Ellison continued. \"The Negro novelist may draw his blackness too tightly when writing, as antiprotest critics believe. But perhaps the white reader also surrounds himself with his whiteness when reading. He may not want to identify with Negro characters in the context of our immediate racial and social situation, yet on a deeper human level, identification can become compelling when the situation is artistically revealed.\" And here is where things get controversial, and some may stop reading. Because speaking of race relations in America risks offending. But how can one not, when you've witnessed someone you love go out for a jog and return seconds later, nervously grabbing an ID?

Artistic revelation, that's how I'd describe this novel. \"Though invisible, I am in the great American tradition of tinkers. That makes me kin to Ford, Edison and Franklin. Call me, since I have a theory and a concept, a \"thinker-tinker.\" Only a few protagonists can bind you so tightly to their inner thoughts like this narrator. Only a few chosen writers can combine dramatic dialogue with self-exploratory meanderings and controlled prose that vividly reveals the life of a black man in America. Think of Fitzgerald's metaphorical language in The Great Gatsby, Orwell's clairvoyance in 1984, Styron's racial debate in Sophie's Choice, and Morrison's language and riveting voice in Home, and you'll understand this novel.

How can we not discuss race relations when a young boy bled to death on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri, his body left as a spectacle for hours? When serial killers are fed elegant meals before execution in semi-private rooms? How can you not talk about the invisible man choked to death for selling loose cigarettes, screaming I can't breathe, or the invisible young man shot for strolling in his own neighborhood wearing a hoodie? The list has been growing for the past year. \"Right now in this country, with its many national groups, all the old heroes are being called back to life--Jefferson, Jackson, Pulaski, Garibaldi, Booker T. Washington, Sun Yat-sen, Danny O'Connell, Abraham Lincoln and countless others are being asked to step once again upon the stage of history…Destruction lies ahead unless things are changed. And things must be changed.\" I get chills thinking these words were written years ago and are still relevant today.

You don't talk about these things with peers-- it's a no-no, like discussing religion or politics. Instead, when you have to censor the confusing and nauseating moments that come when you consider how these tensions affect your life, you turn to books. I reached for this book on my shelf, and Ellison's words gave me a sense of understanding and calm like no other writer could at this moment. This book is devastatingly beautiful in its cold-hearted truth and individual perceptions. The narrator grows from a young, black college boy inexperienced with white counterparts to a learned man who understands his invisibility and how everyone--black and white--contributes to it. It's a story of self-discovery from a black character's perspective. Both tragic and enlightening, it's filled with imagery, unique cadence, \"dialect,\" and rhythmic expose (and a few words that might be off-putting for some). I'm glad I chose it, and it chose me.

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Here beneath the deep indigo sky, here, alive with looping swifts and darting moths, here in the hereness of the night not yet lighted by the moon that looms blood-red behind the chapel like a fallen sun, its radiance shedding not upon the here-dusk of twittering bats, nor on the there-night of cricket and whippoorwill, but focused short-rayed upon our place of convergence; and we drifting forward with rigid motions, limbs stiff and voices now silent, as though on exhibit even in the dark, and the moon a white man's bloodshot eye.

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