Dancing and Money

            In recent chapters, we have encountered two objects which have been vehemently opposed by the Invisible Man. First, we encounter the “Jolly N Bank,” and we experience the rage which it channels through our narrator. Then, only a few chapters later, we are shown Tod Clifton and his “Dancing Sambo Doll,” which the narrator is shocked and betrayed to see. The most surprising thing about these two items is, in my opinion, not that they exist but that they are owned by the very people that they mock and degrade.

            First, we begin with the “Jolly N Bank,” in chapter fifteen. We are instantly plunged into quite the surreal scene: the endless “brash, nerve-jangling sound,” combined with the violent and somewhat weird imagery of his side “itching violently […] suddenly the pain seemed to leap from my ears to my side and I saw gray marks appearing where the old skin was flaking away beneath my digging nails.” Then, our narrator notices the “cast-iron figure of a very black, red-lipped and wide-mouther Negro,” painting quite the ugly*, racist picture in our minds. Now I don’t know about you, but at this point I was seeing this as one huge dream, which further exaggerates the violent emotions that our narrator feels when he sees this doll. He is disgusted by it, and proceeds to smash it to pieces and hide it inside of his ever-present briefcase. After this, one of his first thoughts is to question why Mary has something “like this” around, and I can’t help but agree. I can see why a motherly figure such as Mary could have some little tchotchkes sitting around, but the emphasis given to the bank really makes me question it. After all, is it not a symbol of oppression? A gross exaggeration of the stereotypes that must plague her and her friends daily? The only half-decent reasonings to keep such a knick-knack around that I can think of would be to do exactly this: to remind her of the struggles that she face, or to accept it and use it as a symbol of beauty, such as how the N word has been taken and had its meaning changed to be one of brotherhood.

            Next is the “Dancing Sambo” doll. The doll carries quite a burden on it, being the representation of Tod Clifton’s betrayals to the ideals that he was seemingly so passionate about. We see Clifton on the side of the road, after his “fall from history,” selling Sambo, and our narrator is taken aback! He describes himself as feeling betrayed and enraged, and it’s not hard to see why. Yes, Tod Clifton has left an organization. Our narrator at the time sees this as stunning, as he thinks that to leave the brotherhood is to leave history itself. However, the way I see it, the big betrayal is a betrayal of race: not only does Clifton have these dolls, but he’s making profit off of them: he’s selling a manifestation of stereotypes against his own people, and it’s quite shocking to see the man that was once described as a potential “black king” having fallen to such a seemingly despicable position. The worst part about it, from the way I see it, is that we don’t know why. Before our narrator gets to hold a conversation, gets to hear why he has stooped this low, Clifton is shot dead, and we are left with many questions which shall remain unanswered.

*Ugly describing the ideas behind the image, not the characteristics

Optic White vs Invisible Black

In chapter 10 of Invisible Man, we find ourselves plunged alongside our narrator into the Liberty Paints factory, the proud producer of the whitest paint found in America. Proud they are: the optic white is what defines them, due to its absolute purity and the way that it shuts out any other colors. It’s even purchased by the government to paint monuments! Their white is the perfect white, and nothing is perfect until it is white: optic white. Taking a step back, there’s no need to jump to conclusions when saying that this optic white and its purity are metaphorical towards the white race. In fact, Wright does pretty much everything he can to beat the dead horse of the “white is right” metaphor.

            We’re plunged into this idea when we meet the white fanatic himself, the ‘Colonel,’ Kimbro. Kimbro treats the optic white paint like his pride and joy. He takes our narrator to his first position, and tells him to take 10 drops of black liquid and to mix it into the white paint. Our narrator is surprised to see that after a bit of stirring, the black is completely gone! The perfect, powerful, optic white has swallowed the black alive, consuming it. The narrator then gets his turn adding the black liquid. He takes note that the black “settle[s] upon the surface and become blacker still, spreading suddenly out to the edges.” What we learn from this is that the black when put up against the white is put in a stark contrast, and is pushed to the edge, almost like a white society repelling a black people! Next, Kimbro returns, and begins to rave about his one love, Optic White. He absolutely adores it! It’s the “purest white that can be found,” and it’s headed straight for a national monument. What an achievement this is for the white, the black liquid already forgotten for its integral role in the construction and validity of the white paint.

            Our narrator then makes quite the mistake: he mixes the wrong black into the white! Kimbro is furious, as, after all the wrong kind of black can spoil a batch. We then see the narrator correct his mistake, but it’s still not perfect. As he says, it has “a speck of dirt” on it, or “a gray tinge.” There’s definitely a trace of black left in this white, but to Kimbro? It’s absolutely invisible. This can be interpreted as one of the times where the idea of invisibility is further pushed onto our narrator. First, we are given the idea that this whiteness can surround a piece of coal, to the point where you can’t even tell that it’s black on the inside. Then, for a very brief amount of time, we see this idea that there can be a blackness inside of this white, not hidden to the trained eye, the eye that is looking for this “invisible” blackness, but a blackness that is unseen by the white onlooker. 

Bigger Thomas: Guilty or Innocent?

Bigger Thomas: Guilty or Innocent?

            When it comes to the bare minimum, the case against Bigger Thomas is quite strong. There is no denying that he did murder not one but two people, although the rape charges for Mary are faulty. However, the points made by Max are definitely not invalid, and there are many more that we as readers can make, as we have an inside knowledge on the events. Personally, I feel conflicted as to whether Bigger is truly innocent, but I think some compelling arguments can be made. I would first argue that Bigger was almost entirely forced into this situation by Jan and Mary. In my opinion, the entire series of events came out of Jan and Mary’s desire to get the “inside scoop” on “black life.” Every single thing that Bigger did leading up to the first murder was almost entirely pressured onto him by the communist couple. Allowing Jan to drive the car? Forced. Eating dinner with them? Not his choice. He would not have had to suffocate her if she was not drunk, as he would not have been in her room. You can call the murder a product of him being at the “wrong place at the wrong time,” but I would argue against that. The statement “wrong place at the wrong time” conveys the idea that this event was completely accidental, 100% up to chance. There was no chance or luck involved in the situation at all, Bigger’s hand was forced, and he was not able to make the correct choices during the time leading up to the murder. I can almost guarantee you that Bigger Thomas would not have ever been in Mary Dalton’s room if he had even an inkling of a choice. However, I am not trying to argue that Bigger is completely innocent. I feel like the way that the book is written and the circumstances are trying to convince us that Bigger has done no wrong, but I find it, at least in some way, difficult to completely write it off. After all, he did commit a murder, and not just one but two. Although it had little effect on the lawmen in the book, I really think the moment that crowns the idea that Bigger is not an innocent man is the murder of Bessie. Already into the second book, Bigger is free from the grasp of Jan and Mary, and he is making is own choices. If Mary’s death was an accident, and if it is possible to write off, I think that a point that we glaze over all too often is Bessie’s death. It was, in the way that I read it, not at all an accident. Bigger was in a less pressing situation, in one that did not require instantaneous responses. In my eyes, one of the few choices that Bigger did make in the entire book was the one to kill Bessie, and that is the excerpt that I would use to drive the nail in the coffin of Bigger’s guilt. All in all, I think that Bigger’s case is one which can’t be simply solved. It is one that defiles human nature. We, as people, like to make decisions in situations like this when one party is clearly “wrong” or “evil,” and the other is a “just” or “good” option, and there is simply no right or wrong, good or evil in this situation. Therefore, it is an argument which will never fully be tied up, a page left unturned, a question unanswered.