As possibly the most exciting part of the novel comes up Morrison throws us something rather unexpected. To put in a little bit of a pun you might say that she sends us in to a bit of a spin. Just as we get around to really learning what this traumatic event was in Sethe's path the author decides to play with us even further by changing drastically who our point of view is from. Instead of viewing her plight through the eyes of Baby Suggs, or Stamp Paid or even Sethe herself, we get this scene portrayed from the view of the slave catcher who is coming to try and capture Sethe and bring her and her children back to Sweet Home presumably. I think this does a few things for us as readers who have awaited finally being told what it was in Sethe's past that is so dark. First off I think it perpetuates messing with our heads in the way Morrison loves to do, it certainly did for me, but also in a very interesting way I think that, ironically, this change in perspective helps us understand Sethe's rational better.
By changing up the perspective of who we're witnessing Sethe's deed from Morrison shies away from addressing the issue head on, which she does as well with Baby Sugg's accounting, and then even with Sethe herself as she talks to Paul D. Throughout the book we've been periodically picking up on subtle little hints that the author has been giving us, but never actually telling us exactly what happened. We continually flirt with being told what happened to Beloved, but it's never actually portrayed until the last 30 pages before the end of part one. She circles around the answer for much of the book, and when she does get around to telling us what it happens she doesn't actually tell us in a way that shows Sethe's though process. Instead she continues to circle around the matter, which I think is supposed to be indicative of how Sethe feels about her past. By constantly circling around the matter she never really deals with the dark secrets she has, and when she finally does stop circling the person she loves leaves her.
The second thing that Morrison's switch of perspective does for the reader is somewhat counter-intuitive. In certain way it actually helps the reader understand what Sethe is talking about and why her decision possibly could have made sense. By seeing just how cold and calculating the slave catchers were, and how they only wanted to capture Sethe and her children alive. They have no interest in killing her. In fact once the realize that she is "damaged goods" they are perfectly content to simply leave and let her be taken away. In this way I think it paints a perfectly clear rational for why killing her children protects them from slavery. If she takes their lives then she effectively stops any slave catchers from taking them for themselves.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Sethe and Me
In the past two days the matter of how a reader viewing Sethe would change their opinion of her character as they learned more about her past became a fairly discussed matter. I think the best answer that I heard anyone give was a statement along the lines of "It's impossible for any of us to imagine what it would have been like for her, and thus any judgement we make won't be entirely fair." I certainly believe that there's no way for me to be able to to truly appreciate fully what it could have felt like for Sethe to want to take the lives of her children. In spite of this realization I do in fact have an opinion on how her history changes my perception of Sethe as a character. In my eyes her total conviction to protecting her children, and even her continued conviction to the belief that she did the right thing make me view her more and more as an incredibly strong human being.
Clearly the decision to kill your own child is an incredibly difficult one, and something that I think is extremely hard for people in our culture to justify or really understand. Disregarding whether or not I believe that Sethe made the right decision I can understand that the choice she made would not be something she could do without total conviction and belief that what she was doing was the best option. In addition to this the actual follow through of bringing yourself to really kill a child of yours would, in a sense, break most people. Not being a father myself, I certainly can't imagine what it would be like to kill my child, but even the thought of killing a loved one makes me uncomfortable, let alone what it might actually do to me to have to really follow through on that. In all honesty I'm not sure that I would be a strong enough willed person to be able to do it, yet Sethe doesn't even hesitate. She flies into action doing exactly what she believes she has to do to protect her children, even if that means doing something that I think most people can scarcely imagine doing. For me this makes me see her almost as an extremely strong and loving individual.
Even just considering the amount of strength I think I would have to take to do what Sethe did, I'm even further impressed with the way that she handles this immense burden over the next 18 years of her life. The most obvious way that her past comes back to haunt her is the way that she is treated by other people who know her only as a baby killer. For instance as Morrison describes their situation at the beginning of the book she says, "Outside a driver whipped his horse into the gallop local people felt necessary when they passed 124"(5). Even after eighteen years of being ostracized she hasn't given up on life, and continues to live and support her and her only child Denver. Even harder than being avoided by random people is what she has to deal with once Paul D discovers what her past has been like. Once he is told by Sethe what really happened he immediately decides that he can no longer be with her and has to leave. Many people are devastated by loved ones leaving them, especially for reasons caused by them, and worst of all when these are incidents in their past. In spite of this Sethe does not cave in to depression or despair, but just keeps on going and caring for her children. As she says "Those twenty-eight days of happiness has been followed by eighteen years of disapproval and solitary life[...] Every eighteen or twenty years her unlivable life would be interrupted by short-lived glory? Well, if that's the way it was-that's the way it was" (204). For me this exemplifies the most impressive aspect of Sethe's strength as a human being. Not only is she able to live with society ostracizing her, but she's able to live with herself.
Clearly the decision to kill your own child is an incredibly difficult one, and something that I think is extremely hard for people in our culture to justify or really understand. Disregarding whether or not I believe that Sethe made the right decision I can understand that the choice she made would not be something she could do without total conviction and belief that what she was doing was the best option. In addition to this the actual follow through of bringing yourself to really kill a child of yours would, in a sense, break most people. Not being a father myself, I certainly can't imagine what it would be like to kill my child, but even the thought of killing a loved one makes me uncomfortable, let alone what it might actually do to me to have to really follow through on that. In all honesty I'm not sure that I would be a strong enough willed person to be able to do it, yet Sethe doesn't even hesitate. She flies into action doing exactly what she believes she has to do to protect her children, even if that means doing something that I think most people can scarcely imagine doing. For me this makes me see her almost as an extremely strong and loving individual.
Even just considering the amount of strength I think I would have to take to do what Sethe did, I'm even further impressed with the way that she handles this immense burden over the next 18 years of her life. The most obvious way that her past comes back to haunt her is the way that she is treated by other people who know her only as a baby killer. For instance as Morrison describes their situation at the beginning of the book she says, "Outside a driver whipped his horse into the gallop local people felt necessary when they passed 124"(5). Even after eighteen years of being ostracized she hasn't given up on life, and continues to live and support her and her only child Denver. Even harder than being avoided by random people is what she has to deal with once Paul D discovers what her past has been like. Once he is told by Sethe what really happened he immediately decides that he can no longer be with her and has to leave. Many people are devastated by loved ones leaving them, especially for reasons caused by them, and worst of all when these are incidents in their past. In spite of this Sethe does not cave in to depression or despair, but just keeps on going and caring for her children. As she says "Those twenty-eight days of happiness has been followed by eighteen years of disapproval and solitary life[...] Every eighteen or twenty years her unlivable life would be interrupted by short-lived glory? Well, if that's the way it was-that's the way it was" (204). For me this exemplifies the most impressive aspect of Sethe's strength as a human being. Not only is she able to live with society ostracizing her, but she's able to live with herself.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
To graffiti or not to graffiti
Today in class after the finishing of Style Wars my class had a very animated discussion concerning one of the key aspects of the movie. Put quite simply the major direction that the discussion took was rather graffiti as an artform is inherently right or wrong, and if so why or why not. Now while I heard a lot of compelling arguments from both sides of the argument, I never actually formed an opinion of my own. There are parts of both arguments that I agreed with and parts that I didn't feel quite so strongly for. Still, even after giving it quite a good bit of thought I really can't form an solid opinion on whether I think graffiti is right or wrong. Honestly I think that's where my opinion is going to stay. The best way I can articulate my opinion on graffiti as an artform is to say that perhaps there are parts of it that make it both wrong and right, and this is what makes it so unique as art.
In the argument against graffiti I heard a few points made, but best I could tell they, for the most part, fit under the statement that graffiti is defacement of property and that it is rude and unpleasant to put your art in a place where other people are forced to look at it. Mr. Mitchell pointed out a good parallel to this, which is desktop doodles. Now, while I think desktop drawing can show a profound sense of creativity and artistic talent, they can also show a profound lack of creativity and an impressive showcase of teenage immaturity. A poorly drawn penis is not exactly what I would call the epitome of artistic ability. I don't want to have to look at this, because I don't think it's good art. Along this same stream of thought it's important to understand that taste in art is opinionated obviously, and perhaps there are those that consider phallic doodling to be true art. Unlikely, but related to this there is always the possibility that people find graffiti simply unattractive as art, and find it unpleasant to be constantly subjected to it.
In contrast to this view of graffiti as unpleasant art being forced upon you rises also one of the strongest support ideas that it has going for it. What makes graffiti so unique as an art form is precisely the statement it makes by shoving it in your face. Regardless of whether you want to see that penis on your desk, it's there and you've noticed it. This is not to say that all graffiti is as unpleasant as dick doodles, in fact a lot of graffiti displays tons of artistic talent. The point here, however, is that graffiti is a way for a demographic that America usually likes to pretend doesn't exist to express itself and let itself be heard. Bombing, the simple act of putting your name down somewhere, is the way that an inner city youth, who otherwise doesn't have much, can earn himself recognition and acknowledgment. The very thing that makes graffiti so undesirable to some, being forced to view it, makes it so attractive and unique to others.
In the argument against graffiti I heard a few points made, but best I could tell they, for the most part, fit under the statement that graffiti is defacement of property and that it is rude and unpleasant to put your art in a place where other people are forced to look at it. Mr. Mitchell pointed out a good parallel to this, which is desktop doodles. Now, while I think desktop drawing can show a profound sense of creativity and artistic talent, they can also show a profound lack of creativity and an impressive showcase of teenage immaturity. A poorly drawn penis is not exactly what I would call the epitome of artistic ability. I don't want to have to look at this, because I don't think it's good art. Along this same stream of thought it's important to understand that taste in art is opinionated obviously, and perhaps there are those that consider phallic doodling to be true art. Unlikely, but related to this there is always the possibility that people find graffiti simply unattractive as art, and find it unpleasant to be constantly subjected to it.
In contrast to this view of graffiti as unpleasant art being forced upon you rises also one of the strongest support ideas that it has going for it. What makes graffiti so unique as an art form is precisely the statement it makes by shoving it in your face. Regardless of whether you want to see that penis on your desk, it's there and you've noticed it. This is not to say that all graffiti is as unpleasant as dick doodles, in fact a lot of graffiti displays tons of artistic talent. The point here, however, is that graffiti is a way for a demographic that America usually likes to pretend doesn't exist to express itself and let itself be heard. Bombing, the simple act of putting your name down somewhere, is the way that an inner city youth, who otherwise doesn't have much, can earn himself recognition and acknowledgment. The very thing that makes graffiti so undesirable to some, being forced to view it, makes it so attractive and unique to others.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Freedom by Death
In White Boy Shuffle the novels concludes with a seemingly very perplexing and potentially controversial ending. Starting with Gunnar's speech at Boston University he seemingly endorses the idea of mass suicide on the part of African Americans as a way of showing their devotion to the cause. Immediately this has repercussions as people all over the country start to commit suicide and send Gunnar their death poems. This includes Nick Scoby, who after a discussion with Gunnar about suicide hikes to the top of the Boston University Law Building, writes Gunnar a letter, and then throws himself of the top of the building.
The suicide doesn't stop at Scoby, however. As Gunnar is staying in Hillside at his new hotel home, he receives letter after letter containing poems written by African Americans who have committed suicide after being provoked by some racial injustice committed against them. During all this Gunnar and company are reading Japanese love-suicide stories. Clearly these works of literature are a major influence on Gunnar's perception of suicide and death, and after nearly committing suicide by drowning himself Gunnar states, "What the fuck, it took Osamu Dazai three ir four times to get this suicide thing right" (209).
By the end of the novel we have reached the unlikely scenario in which Gunnar, during a memorial for Scoby has revealed the existence of a remaining atom bomb, and has dared the U.S. government to drop the bomb on Hillside. While this is a seemingly preposterous scenario, I think the message is clear; race relations in the U.S. are so hopelessly misbalanced that there can be no fixing. The only reasonable option from here is mass suicide. At least this is the message that Gunnar gets across to African-Americans.
The concept of suicide being a reasonable option is a hard concept to grasp for people in our society, but to Gunnar perhaps it made sense. Gunnar had recently been reading japanese love-suicide stories in which suicide was not seen as a dishonorable action, but in fact a fairly honorable mode of death. I think even more importantly is that Gunnar feels as though in life he has absolutely no control. In a way I think Gunnar is supposed to see suicide as the only way that he can take control of a life which he feels is otherwise out of his control. As he says "You may love me, but I'm tired of thrashing around in the mud and not getting anywhere, so put a nigger out of his misery" (226). I think that Bigger sees the best way for himself to take control of his life is to end it. In this way he takes control of really the only aspect of his life that he feels that he can possibly control, which is his own death. Suicide as a reasonable option is hard for members of our society to understand, but for Gunnar he feels that his situation is so bad that the only way for him to take control of his life is for him to decide to end it.
The suicide doesn't stop at Scoby, however. As Gunnar is staying in Hillside at his new hotel home, he receives letter after letter containing poems written by African Americans who have committed suicide after being provoked by some racial injustice committed against them. During all this Gunnar and company are reading Japanese love-suicide stories. Clearly these works of literature are a major influence on Gunnar's perception of suicide and death, and after nearly committing suicide by drowning himself Gunnar states, "What the fuck, it took Osamu Dazai three ir four times to get this suicide thing right" (209).
By the end of the novel we have reached the unlikely scenario in which Gunnar, during a memorial for Scoby has revealed the existence of a remaining atom bomb, and has dared the U.S. government to drop the bomb on Hillside. While this is a seemingly preposterous scenario, I think the message is clear; race relations in the U.S. are so hopelessly misbalanced that there can be no fixing. The only reasonable option from here is mass suicide. At least this is the message that Gunnar gets across to African-Americans.
The concept of suicide being a reasonable option is a hard concept to grasp for people in our society, but to Gunnar perhaps it made sense. Gunnar had recently been reading japanese love-suicide stories in which suicide was not seen as a dishonorable action, but in fact a fairly honorable mode of death. I think even more importantly is that Gunnar feels as though in life he has absolutely no control. In a way I think Gunnar is supposed to see suicide as the only way that he can take control of a life which he feels is otherwise out of his control. As he says "You may love me, but I'm tired of thrashing around in the mud and not getting anywhere, so put a nigger out of his misery" (226). I think that Bigger sees the best way for himself to take control of his life is to end it. In this way he takes control of really the only aspect of his life that he feels that he can possibly control, which is his own death. Suicide as a reasonable option is hard for members of our society to understand, but for Gunnar he feels that his situation is so bad that the only way for him to take control of his life is for him to decide to end it.
Integration
When Gunnar moves from Santa Monica to Hillside he has a decidedly difficult time acclimatizing himself to his new environment. Obviously he experiences culture shock switching from growing up in a mostly white society, to living in a predominantly black society. Not only is he unfamiliar with the type of neighborhood he's in, but he has a remarkably hard time making friends with the other kids in the neighborhood. They see him as being too "white", and after his first few attempts to assimilate himself he gets himself quite thoroughly beaten up.
The first place that Gunnar finds himself finally making friends is in his drama class, where he manages to befriend the "nerds" in this group. This doesn't really settle very well with him, however, and he soon grows tired of these new found companions. As he says on page 65, "I was cooler than this, I had to be -- I just didn't know how to show my latent hipness to the world." All this changes, however, when one day in drama class Gunnar meets a guy who will be a life long friend of his, Nick Scoby.
When we first meet Nick, we immediately are painted a picture of a very cool and collected individual. Nick sits apart from everyone else, with his headphones on, enjoying his Cannonball Adderley. Simply put Nick is real cool, and immediately Gunnar starts to fall for him. Admittedly I was crushing pretty hard on him as well. But what's so special about Nick is that he not only accepts Gunnar, but uses a term to address him that puts Gunnar into a state of elation. On page 67, as Gunnar asks "You wanna learn the monologue together?" Scoby eventually responds with "Yeah, nigger, let's get together later this week. Cool? Later." Gunnar is animated. As he says himself "He called me "nigger."My euphoria was as palpable as the loud clap of our hands colliding in my first soul shake"For Gunnar this is a very important moment in the novel. It represents his first "integration" into the black culture that surrounds him.
Two things about his interaction with Nick combine to make Gunnar so happy. The first is that Nick while not exactly a popular kid, is respected throughout the school. The second is that Nick accepts Gunnar, but not just in anyway, Nick accepts him with his use of the N-word. Now Gunnar had been called this before by other people around Hillside, but this is the first time that any other black person has addressed Gunnar like that as a term of affection. I think in this use of the word it would be very similar to Nick addressing Gunnar as brother. The affect that this has on Gunnar is that it makes him feel as if finally he is being accepted into the black culture he's been striving so hard to work himself into. It's no wonder that after his talking with Scoby that he "skated away cool" and "pimp-daddied back to his seat."
The first place that Gunnar finds himself finally making friends is in his drama class, where he manages to befriend the "nerds" in this group. This doesn't really settle very well with him, however, and he soon grows tired of these new found companions. As he says on page 65, "I was cooler than this, I had to be -- I just didn't know how to show my latent hipness to the world." All this changes, however, when one day in drama class Gunnar meets a guy who will be a life long friend of his, Nick Scoby.
When we first meet Nick, we immediately are painted a picture of a very cool and collected individual. Nick sits apart from everyone else, with his headphones on, enjoying his Cannonball Adderley. Simply put Nick is real cool, and immediately Gunnar starts to fall for him. Admittedly I was crushing pretty hard on him as well. But what's so special about Nick is that he not only accepts Gunnar, but uses a term to address him that puts Gunnar into a state of elation. On page 67, as Gunnar asks "You wanna learn the monologue together?" Scoby eventually responds with "Yeah, nigger, let's get together later this week. Cool? Later." Gunnar is animated. As he says himself "He called me "nigger."My euphoria was as palpable as the loud clap of our hands colliding in my first soul shake"For Gunnar this is a very important moment in the novel. It represents his first "integration" into the black culture that surrounds him.
Two things about his interaction with Nick combine to make Gunnar so happy. The first is that Nick while not exactly a popular kid, is respected throughout the school. The second is that Nick accepts Gunnar, but not just in anyway, Nick accepts him with his use of the N-word. Now Gunnar had been called this before by other people around Hillside, but this is the first time that any other black person has addressed Gunnar like that as a term of affection. I think in this use of the word it would be very similar to Nick addressing Gunnar as brother. The affect that this has on Gunnar is that it makes him feel as if finally he is being accepted into the black culture he's been striving so hard to work himself into. It's no wonder that after his talking with Scoby that he "skated away cool" and "pimp-daddied back to his seat."
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Protest literature through Mrs. Taylor
Starting in chapter 15 we are introduced to a seemingly unlikeable and nasty character, Mrs. Taylor. Mrs. Taylor, a mixed woman, has characteristics of both a black woman, and a white woman. She is also an exceedingly proud woman and holds the steadfast view that black people are inferior to white people, and as a result of her partial "whiteness" she too is superior to fully black people. For this reason she is very friendly towards Janie, who even more than Mrs. Taylor has certain resemblances to a white person. Mrs. Taylor does not create a likable character for herself. Certainly Tea Cake harbors an intense dislike for her, saying to Janie, "Ah hates dat woman lak poison. Keep her from round dis house. her look like a white woman" (143).
As I kept reading through her various remarks to Janie I certainly started to dislike her more and more until I came across the passage on 144-145 that explained why Mrs. Taylor continued to seek Janie's friendship even after Janie scorns her; "She felt honored by Janie's acquaintance and she quickly forgave and forgot snubs in order to keep it. Anyone who looked more white folkish than herself was better than she was in her criteria, therefore it was right that they should be cruel to her at times, just as she was cruel to those who were more negroid than herself" (144). the passage then goes on to describe Mrs. Taylor's infatuation with white skin as being akin to that of religious fervor; "Mrs. Turner like all other believers had built an alter to the unattainable--Caucasian characteristics for all" (145). At this point I was honestly starting to feel sorry for Mrs. Taylor. Living a life where no one really accepts you, and you always seek the impossible seems like an unpleasant existence indeed.
It then occurred to me reading this passage that perhaps Hurston meant for her readers to feel a certain sense of pity for Mrs. Taylor. Perhaps what Hurston really wants to show in this character is the ridiculousness of white supremacy, and what it's influence can make people into. By showing Mrs. Taylor as such a deluded and miserable person it says to me that this is her social commentary on white suppression of blacks, a topic somewhat scarce in this book. This, at least, is how I will choose to interpret the existence of Mrs. Taylor.
As I kept reading through her various remarks to Janie I certainly started to dislike her more and more until I came across the passage on 144-145 that explained why Mrs. Taylor continued to seek Janie's friendship even after Janie scorns her; "She felt honored by Janie's acquaintance and she quickly forgave and forgot snubs in order to keep it. Anyone who looked more white folkish than herself was better than she was in her criteria, therefore it was right that they should be cruel to her at times, just as she was cruel to those who were more negroid than herself" (144). the passage then goes on to describe Mrs. Taylor's infatuation with white skin as being akin to that of religious fervor; "Mrs. Turner like all other believers had built an alter to the unattainable--Caucasian characteristics for all" (145). At this point I was honestly starting to feel sorry for Mrs. Taylor. Living a life where no one really accepts you, and you always seek the impossible seems like an unpleasant existence indeed.
It then occurred to me reading this passage that perhaps Hurston meant for her readers to feel a certain sense of pity for Mrs. Taylor. Perhaps what Hurston really wants to show in this character is the ridiculousness of white supremacy, and what it's influence can make people into. By showing Mrs. Taylor as such a deluded and miserable person it says to me that this is her social commentary on white suppression of blacks, a topic somewhat scarce in this book. This, at least, is how I will choose to interpret the existence of Mrs. Taylor.
Maturing
Throughout my reading of Their Eyes Were Watching God I've been wondering to myself what lesson or message will I glean from this book. Perhaps by the end of the book I will have realized more than one thing about the book, but right now the thing that strikes me is how Janie matures throughout the book. Similar to Invisible Man, the story starts with Janie, at the end of her story, recalling how she came to be in the position she is in now. As a coming of age novel, I think the matter of how the main character develops throughout the book is a central topic.
To start her story off Janie tells us of her experience under the peach tree. She is just starting to go through puberty, and is fantasizing of all things love. This is when she happens across Johnny Taylor who manages to coax her into sharing some kisses with him. Her grandmother, seeing this, marries her off to Logan Killicks in order to provide a good home for her. As any sixteen year-old in her position would be, she is miserable. While perhaps Killicks would provide a good home for a woman, he also expects his wife to work hard. At sixteen years of age no one dreams of a marriage that involves mutual hard-work. Janie is simply not mature enough at this point to be happy in a relationship that defies her expectations of what love and marriage should be. As a result she leaves him for her new love interest, Joe Stark.
For Janie Joe represents at first what she embodies as a picturesque marriage. Joe tells her of how he'll worship her, and put her on a pedestal above all other women. Janie sees this as wonderful and goes along with Joe to Eatonsville. In Eatonsville Joe immediately sets out to take charge of things. He sets himself as mayor, and establishes land, and various institutions in Eatonsville. He pampers Janie, and buys the finest piece of land in the area for them to live on. Janie loves it. Things do start to go downhill, however. Joe truly believes that Janie needs to be put on a pedestal above everyone else. What this means, though, is that Joe does not believe in Janie taking part in conversation or other activities with the common folk, specifically the men. Janie longs to take part in the acts that take place on the porch of the store, but Joe will have none of it. He controls and limits Janie, and this makes Janie very depressed at times, and their marriage is often not very happy. She stays with him, however, which shows that she has matured enough to realize the life that Joe provides for her. None the less she is often unhappy with her life. Joe passes away, though, and eventually Janie starts to move on.
About nine months after Joe's death, Janie meets a charming young man by the name of Tea Cake. Aware of the sizable amount of money left to her by Joe, she is at first very cautious of him. Tea Cake, despite this is very friendly and forward and encourages her to be happy and do things that make her happy in spite of what others may think of her. He takes her out to do stuff with him where they can both be seen together. Such things are seen as very scandalous, but for Janie the amount of freedom and happiness makes her very happy, and regardless of Tea Cakes lack of money she agrees to marry him.
Through janie's maturing throughout the story I think that Zora Neale Hurston gives a message of what she thinks true love should be about. Janie couldn't be happy with either Logan Killicks, or Joe Stark, because neither of them could provide her with the sense of freedom and love that she sought in marriage. So far only Tea Cakes who is so open and free with her has truly given her what she desires from a lover.
To start her story off Janie tells us of her experience under the peach tree. She is just starting to go through puberty, and is fantasizing of all things love. This is when she happens across Johnny Taylor who manages to coax her into sharing some kisses with him. Her grandmother, seeing this, marries her off to Logan Killicks in order to provide a good home for her. As any sixteen year-old in her position would be, she is miserable. While perhaps Killicks would provide a good home for a woman, he also expects his wife to work hard. At sixteen years of age no one dreams of a marriage that involves mutual hard-work. Janie is simply not mature enough at this point to be happy in a relationship that defies her expectations of what love and marriage should be. As a result she leaves him for her new love interest, Joe Stark.
For Janie Joe represents at first what she embodies as a picturesque marriage. Joe tells her of how he'll worship her, and put her on a pedestal above all other women. Janie sees this as wonderful and goes along with Joe to Eatonsville. In Eatonsville Joe immediately sets out to take charge of things. He sets himself as mayor, and establishes land, and various institutions in Eatonsville. He pampers Janie, and buys the finest piece of land in the area for them to live on. Janie loves it. Things do start to go downhill, however. Joe truly believes that Janie needs to be put on a pedestal above everyone else. What this means, though, is that Joe does not believe in Janie taking part in conversation or other activities with the common folk, specifically the men. Janie longs to take part in the acts that take place on the porch of the store, but Joe will have none of it. He controls and limits Janie, and this makes Janie very depressed at times, and their marriage is often not very happy. She stays with him, however, which shows that she has matured enough to realize the life that Joe provides for her. None the less she is often unhappy with her life. Joe passes away, though, and eventually Janie starts to move on.
About nine months after Joe's death, Janie meets a charming young man by the name of Tea Cake. Aware of the sizable amount of money left to her by Joe, she is at first very cautious of him. Tea Cake, despite this is very friendly and forward and encourages her to be happy and do things that make her happy in spite of what others may think of her. He takes her out to do stuff with him where they can both be seen together. Such things are seen as very scandalous, but for Janie the amount of freedom and happiness makes her very happy, and regardless of Tea Cakes lack of money she agrees to marry him.
Through janie's maturing throughout the story I think that Zora Neale Hurston gives a message of what she thinks true love should be about. Janie couldn't be happy with either Logan Killicks, or Joe Stark, because neither of them could provide her with the sense of freedom and love that she sought in marriage. So far only Tea Cakes who is so open and free with her has truly given her what she desires from a lover.
In Defence of Janie
As our class started to read and eventually discuss Their Eyes were watching God we started off discussing the various events that take part regarding Janie's Grandma forcing her to marry off. Specifically we talked in particular on whether we thought Jamie was in the right in doing what she did by leaving her husband or whether it was a foolish thing for her to do. I think that their are definitely arguments to be made in both directions, both arguing for and against Janie, but I tended to find myself feeling very sympathetic towards Janie, actually.
For starters I think it's important to remember that when Janie's grandmother decides to marry her off she's till in her teen years. She is only just starting to enter puberty and coming to have a desire for love. As shown by the scene by the pear tree she sees love as something beautiful and natural;"She saw a dust-bearing bee sink into the sanctum of a bloom; the thousand sister-calyxes arch to meet the love embrace and ecstatic shiver of the tree from root to tiniest branch creaming in every blossom and frothing in delight. So this was marriage!"(11). Just like any other human at that age does, she's experiencing the development in a desire for love.
Regardless of this she is still married off to Logan Killicks. Her grandmother clearly thought she had Janie's best interests in mind in doing so, but still it's understandable that the prospect of being married off to a strange unknown man would frighten and repulse Janie. Indeed in marriage to Logan Killicks she certainly doesn't fulfill her ideal marriage plan. Janie believes that although she may not love Logan immediately that love will come. Upon entering his house she thinks, "The house was absent of flavor, too. But anyhow she went inside to wait for love to begin"(22). Her hopes, however, are dashed. Janie did not enter her marriage with Killicks expecting to be working hard. Logan Killicks, however, definitely expects that she work around the farm just like him. He tells her, "Come help me move this manure pile befo' de sun de sun gits hot. You don't take a bit of interest in dis place. Tain't no use in foolin' round the kitchen all day long" (30). An argument ensues in which Janie tells Mr. Killicks that she is not grateful to him and he has done her no favor. Killicks insults her, her mother, and her grandmother as a result, and this pushes Janie over the edge. She leaves him without another word.
Now while I think Logan Killicks is not a dislikable character, or necessarily even a bad husband, I don't think that it's unreasonable for Janie to have been dissatisfied with him. She is married off at an early age, against her will, to a man who expects a much more mature and obedient wife. In her position I would certainly have felt a strong desire to flee.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Progress or still moving in circles?
In the newest development in the novel we find our narrator starting his newest career choice. The narrator has decided to join an organization simply known as "The Brotherhood." Said organization feels that their mission in life is to work towards a world where all people are equal. A seemingly well intentioned mission, although so was the prospect of education when the Narrator first joined the college in his home town. In that instance he made a speech which granted him audience with rich white men, and this time he's been offered a job for making one. Already we start to see parallels arise between his situation with the Brotherhood and his previous affiliation with the College.
Our Narrator is at first skeptical of taking the job, but eventually decides that he must accept the offer. He is picked up by brother Jack, who then drives him to a party at the Brotherhood's main building. Here he socializes with the other members of the organization, drinks some alcohol, and is eventually officially inducted into the brotherhood. With this acception into the organization, comes, instead of a shiny leather briefcase with a scholarship inside of it, a white envelope containing a large sum of money and his new identity. Again we see a parallel drawn between the Battle Royal and this party. In each event he's given an invitation into this new promising organization. Towards the end of the party, however our narrator is accosted by a brotherhood member who requests that the narrator lead them in song; "How about a spiritual, brother? Or one of those real good 'ole Negro work songs?" (312). Certainly an event that the narrator considers somewhat humiliating, but the party is certainly a bit of a step up from the Battle Royal.
Shortly after his experience at the party our narrator is again called upon by the Brotherhood. Brother Jack picks him up from his new house and he and several other members of the Brotherhood drive to a building in Harlem, which contains an old boxing ring, where the speeches are being made. Here we see a shockingly similar use of imagery between the Battle Royal and this building. At the Battle Royal he desperately delivers this speech for the entertainment of a few rich white men. Here he's giving a very heartfelt personal speech, again in a boxing ring, where afterwards he'll be evaluated by the leaders of the brotherhood. After this speech it's decided that, although he did a wonderful job, he needs training and is sent off to go study the Brotherhood's ideology.
Flash forward four months and our narrator has changed. For four months he's been studying the Brotherhood's arguments and now he knows them by heart. He claims, "Now I knew most of the Brotherhood arguments so well - those i doubted as well as those I believed- that I could repeat them in my sleep" (358). Again here we see a parallel between his college life and his life with the brotherhood. He spends so much time working vigorously to learn, understand, and be able to argue all these points that he thinks the Brotherhood wants him to. In college he worked diligently to understand how it was expected for him to act and to act that way. In both situations he working to understand and fulfill a role to please a group of people.
The new assignment that the Narrator is given, however, is a pretty big deal. He is assigned by Brother Jack to be the new spokesman for their Harlem branch. Clearly the narrator is excited, this is a big responsibility as well a big opportunity for him to move up. Immediately he shows promise, and indeed over the next few months his success sky rockets as well as the success of the Brotherhood in Harlem. In Chapter 18, however, things start to get messy for him. Starting with a letter from an anonymus friend he is warned that if he doesn't slow down his rate of success he'll be shot down; "Keep working for the people but remember that you are one of us and do not forget if you get too big that they will cut you down." (383). Unsurprisingly, two weeks later just this happens. When the narrator goes to a meeting for the Brotherhood he is brought before the committee and is publicly accused of using the Brotherhood to further himself as an individual. The narrator is flabbergasted. He cannot understand how his actions, meant only to further the Brotherhood, could be interpreted as self-serving. What's more, he's told at the end of the meeting that he's being taken out of Harlem and assigned to be the spokesman for the Woman Question. He's immediately confused, and upset at this turn in events. He's being punished for doing exactly what he thought he was supposed to do. Eerily similar to what we see his expulsion from the college being like. He felt that he was expelled for simply acting how he believed he was expected to act. To draw the final parallel between his current situation and his previous college situation simply observe how he reacts to his again being expelled from an organization; "no, despite my anger and disgust, my ambitions were too great to surrender so easily" (407). By the end of the chapter the narrator has decided that being shut out of Harlem isn't really so bad and that he'll preach the Woman Question anyways; "I had almost allowed an old, southern backwardness which I had thought dead to wreck my career" (408). Is this character really any different from the one that left the south on a train headed for work in New York? Has he really learned anything from his journey, or is he still as oblivious and naive as he was when he was evicted from college by Dr. Bledsoe?
Our Narrator is at first skeptical of taking the job, but eventually decides that he must accept the offer. He is picked up by brother Jack, who then drives him to a party at the Brotherhood's main building. Here he socializes with the other members of the organization, drinks some alcohol, and is eventually officially inducted into the brotherhood. With this acception into the organization, comes, instead of a shiny leather briefcase with a scholarship inside of it, a white envelope containing a large sum of money and his new identity. Again we see a parallel drawn between the Battle Royal and this party. In each event he's given an invitation into this new promising organization. Towards the end of the party, however our narrator is accosted by a brotherhood member who requests that the narrator lead them in song; "How about a spiritual, brother? Or one of those real good 'ole Negro work songs?" (312). Certainly an event that the narrator considers somewhat humiliating, but the party is certainly a bit of a step up from the Battle Royal.
Shortly after his experience at the party our narrator is again called upon by the Brotherhood. Brother Jack picks him up from his new house and he and several other members of the Brotherhood drive to a building in Harlem, which contains an old boxing ring, where the speeches are being made. Here we see a shockingly similar use of imagery between the Battle Royal and this building. At the Battle Royal he desperately delivers this speech for the entertainment of a few rich white men. Here he's giving a very heartfelt personal speech, again in a boxing ring, where afterwards he'll be evaluated by the leaders of the brotherhood. After this speech it's decided that, although he did a wonderful job, he needs training and is sent off to go study the Brotherhood's ideology.
Flash forward four months and our narrator has changed. For four months he's been studying the Brotherhood's arguments and now he knows them by heart. He claims, "Now I knew most of the Brotherhood arguments so well - those i doubted as well as those I believed- that I could repeat them in my sleep" (358). Again here we see a parallel between his college life and his life with the brotherhood. He spends so much time working vigorously to learn, understand, and be able to argue all these points that he thinks the Brotherhood wants him to. In college he worked diligently to understand how it was expected for him to act and to act that way. In both situations he working to understand and fulfill a role to please a group of people.
The new assignment that the Narrator is given, however, is a pretty big deal. He is assigned by Brother Jack to be the new spokesman for their Harlem branch. Clearly the narrator is excited, this is a big responsibility as well a big opportunity for him to move up. Immediately he shows promise, and indeed over the next few months his success sky rockets as well as the success of the Brotherhood in Harlem. In Chapter 18, however, things start to get messy for him. Starting with a letter from an anonymus friend he is warned that if he doesn't slow down his rate of success he'll be shot down; "Keep working for the people but remember that you are one of us and do not forget if you get too big that they will cut you down." (383). Unsurprisingly, two weeks later just this happens. When the narrator goes to a meeting for the Brotherhood he is brought before the committee and is publicly accused of using the Brotherhood to further himself as an individual. The narrator is flabbergasted. He cannot understand how his actions, meant only to further the Brotherhood, could be interpreted as self-serving. What's more, he's told at the end of the meeting that he's being taken out of Harlem and assigned to be the spokesman for the Woman Question. He's immediately confused, and upset at this turn in events. He's being punished for doing exactly what he thought he was supposed to do. Eerily similar to what we see his expulsion from the college being like. He felt that he was expelled for simply acting how he believed he was expected to act. To draw the final parallel between his current situation and his previous college situation simply observe how he reacts to his again being expelled from an organization; "no, despite my anger and disgust, my ambitions were too great to surrender so easily" (407). By the end of the chapter the narrator has decided that being shut out of Harlem isn't really so bad and that he'll preach the Woman Question anyways; "I had almost allowed an old, southern backwardness which I had thought dead to wreck my career" (408). Is this character really any different from the one that left the south on a train headed for work in New York? Has he really learned anything from his journey, or is he still as oblivious and naive as he was when he was evicted from college by Dr. Bledsoe?
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Taking out the trash
As chapter fifteen opens we find the narrator being rudely awakened from his peaceful slumber by a neighbor in his building banging on their heat pipes. Highly agitated by being awoken in such a manner the narrator casts his gaze around the room and lights upon a small figurine sitting by his door; "the cast-iron figure of a very black, red-lipped and wide-mouthed Negro, whose white eyes stared up at me from the floor"(319). Supposedly he's never seen this small bank, even though he's been living in this room for many months. The narrator then, in a fit of rage, dashes across the room, grabs the figurine and starts pounding on the pipe with it. Eventually he hits the pipe so violently that the bank breaks and shatters. In desperation to hide what he's done the narrator gathers up all of the broken pieces, puts them in a bag, and shoves them into his brief-case.
Even before breakfast Ellison has already worked a number of events into the chapter that are rife with symbolism for the picking. For starters there's the matter of his finding this small item in his room in the first place. He's been living in this room for several months, but for some reason this is the first time he's seen it. Before now it's almost as if this small figurine was invisible to him, or somehow hidden. At a very important time in the narrator's life it seems that such a piece of imagery could not simply be coincidence. Only as he is leaving this life to enter a new one where he will be very visible to the public does he see this nic-nac that represents the harsh stereotypes that were forced upon African-Americans. This is an item that the Narrator feels is "self-mocking" (319), it represents the stereotypes that the narrator hates having forced upon him.
But, wait! There's more! As the narrator leaves Mary's house for the final time he decides that he has to dispose of the remains of this small bank he has smashed. He doesn't feel comfortable doing so in Mary's house, however, so he simply decides to toss it at the first trashcan he sees. He does just this, and the trashcan he chooses is one outside of a privately owned house. The response is instantaneous and rather shocking. As soon as he tosses the bag with the trash in it into the can, a door opens from one of the houses and the narrator is accosted by the flaming wrath of a small white woman. Said woman is outraged that the narrator would throw his garbage into their garbage can and orders him to fetch out the garbage as well as saying some rather shockingly hateful and racist things, especially about black people from the south; "I'm sick and tired of having you southern Negroes mess up things for the rest of us" (328). The narrator is shocked and angered by the woman's statements, but complies and fishes the bank out of the stinking trashcan.
A few blocks later, after his anger from the previous encounter has died down some, he decides to attempt to dispose of his garbage once more. This time he simply lets it fall out of his hand while he's waiting at a stop light. He only makes it a couple of blocks, however, before he is stopped again. This time he's accosted by a man who saw him drop the bag and wishes to return the bag back to him. When the narrator attempts to feign ignorance about the bag the man freaks out. He jumps to the conclusion that the narrator must be involved in some illegal activity, and that the bag contains some very dangerous and illegal item. Thrusting the bag back into the narrators arms he runs off, but not before saying "I know what kind of garbage it is.You young New York Negroes is a blip" (330). The narrator decides after this that he will simply throw his garbage into the street, but when he sees the man gesturing wildly at him he decides he'll just have to dispose of it later before the police are called. Before this section ends he decides to shove the contents into his beloved suitcase which is all he has with him.
In this second part of the morning the narrator has these encounters with random inhabitants of New York who literally force him to accept this item, that for him represents the stereotypes of African-Americans that he despises being put under. In addition to simply being forced to accept this humiliating item, the people accosting him keep classifying him under these harsh stereotypes. The woman who yells at him from her house sees him as a disgusting "Southern Negro", and the man who stops him on the street assumes that he's been peddling drugs and that he's involved in some illegal activity. Both people are actually forcing him to take this item that represents racial stereotypes, while at the same time are assigning harsh stereotypes of their own on him. All this time the narrator is leaving his home with Mary to go work for the Brotherhood. By doing so he's trying to escape from a life where he's assigned hateful stereotypes, but can't even escape from this small bank, let alone from the racial stereotypes assigned to him. Eventually he just gives him up and puts this symbol of racism into his precious brief case, which is the only thing he still has that symbolized his original goal in life. An item that he received from the battle royal, which was an incredibly humiliating event where he was working to show off to powerful white men and please them by making a speech. To see him put this broken bank, a symbol of racism and stereotyping which he can't escape, into this brief case that represents his being controlled by the white men, shows a definite connection between the two. Perhaps the narrator still doesn't realize that he's not really escaping from racism and stereotyping, but is just merely hiding it more affectively with his new life.
Even before breakfast Ellison has already worked a number of events into the chapter that are rife with symbolism for the picking. For starters there's the matter of his finding this small item in his room in the first place. He's been living in this room for several months, but for some reason this is the first time he's seen it. Before now it's almost as if this small figurine was invisible to him, or somehow hidden. At a very important time in the narrator's life it seems that such a piece of imagery could not simply be coincidence. Only as he is leaving this life to enter a new one where he will be very visible to the public does he see this nic-nac that represents the harsh stereotypes that were forced upon African-Americans. This is an item that the Narrator feels is "self-mocking" (319), it represents the stereotypes that the narrator hates having forced upon him.
But, wait! There's more! As the narrator leaves Mary's house for the final time he decides that he has to dispose of the remains of this small bank he has smashed. He doesn't feel comfortable doing so in Mary's house, however, so he simply decides to toss it at the first trashcan he sees. He does just this, and the trashcan he chooses is one outside of a privately owned house. The response is instantaneous and rather shocking. As soon as he tosses the bag with the trash in it into the can, a door opens from one of the houses and the narrator is accosted by the flaming wrath of a small white woman. Said woman is outraged that the narrator would throw his garbage into their garbage can and orders him to fetch out the garbage as well as saying some rather shockingly hateful and racist things, especially about black people from the south; "I'm sick and tired of having you southern Negroes mess up things for the rest of us" (328). The narrator is shocked and angered by the woman's statements, but complies and fishes the bank out of the stinking trashcan.
A few blocks later, after his anger from the previous encounter has died down some, he decides to attempt to dispose of his garbage once more. This time he simply lets it fall out of his hand while he's waiting at a stop light. He only makes it a couple of blocks, however, before he is stopped again. This time he's accosted by a man who saw him drop the bag and wishes to return the bag back to him. When the narrator attempts to feign ignorance about the bag the man freaks out. He jumps to the conclusion that the narrator must be involved in some illegal activity, and that the bag contains some very dangerous and illegal item. Thrusting the bag back into the narrators arms he runs off, but not before saying "I know what kind of garbage it is.You young New York Negroes is a blip" (330). The narrator decides after this that he will simply throw his garbage into the street, but when he sees the man gesturing wildly at him he decides he'll just have to dispose of it later before the police are called. Before this section ends he decides to shove the contents into his beloved suitcase which is all he has with him.
In this second part of the morning the narrator has these encounters with random inhabitants of New York who literally force him to accept this item, that for him represents the stereotypes of African-Americans that he despises being put under. In addition to simply being forced to accept this humiliating item, the people accosting him keep classifying him under these harsh stereotypes. The woman who yells at him from her house sees him as a disgusting "Southern Negro", and the man who stops him on the street assumes that he's been peddling drugs and that he's involved in some illegal activity. Both people are actually forcing him to take this item that represents racial stereotypes, while at the same time are assigning harsh stereotypes of their own on him. All this time the narrator is leaving his home with Mary to go work for the Brotherhood. By doing so he's trying to escape from a life where he's assigned hateful stereotypes, but can't even escape from this small bank, let alone from the racial stereotypes assigned to him. Eventually he just gives him up and puts this symbol of racism into his precious brief case, which is the only thing he still has that symbolized his original goal in life. An item that he received from the battle royal, which was an incredibly humiliating event where he was working to show off to powerful white men and please them by making a speech. To see him put this broken bank, a symbol of racism and stereotyping which he can't escape, into this brief case that represents his being controlled by the white men, shows a definite connection between the two. Perhaps the narrator still doesn't realize that he's not really escaping from racism and stereotyping, but is just merely hiding it more affectively with his new life.
Enlightened or still hidden?
From the very start of this novel the question that's intrigued me the most has always been whether Ellison wishes to portray his character at the end of the book as having come to an enlightened state, and if so what that means about the identity of the other characters in the story. What I mean by this is that in the prologue it's clear that the narrator has reached a point in his life where he feels he has recognized his invisibility and has come to realize he can use this perception of invisibility to his advantage. Clearly after the novel has run its course the narrator himself feels as though he's reached a point in his life at where he has come to a great realization which other people have not, and thus is enlightened past them. My question, however, is whether this is really the message that Ellison wants to send to his readers, or if perhaps he's just toying with us and that he feels that the narrator is no less disillusioned than he was at the beginning of the book. In a book that is so dense and has so much symbolism and so many questions about identity it seems like there could be many different ways to interpret what Ellison wants to say on the matter through his creation of various characters.
My best example of a character who's identity can be looked at in different ways is Doctor Bledsoe. The president of the university certainly provides a character worth looking at and considering what his character might say about what Ellison thinks invisibility and identity mean. For instance we first see Bledsoe in action, when he completely transforms himself into a mask of concern for Mr. Norton, "As we approached a mirror Dr. Bledsoe stopped and composed his angry face like a sculptor, making it a bland mask" (102). It immediately struck me that Bledsoe could be considered someone who has come to terms with his invisibility and now uses it to further himself in life. He recognizes that by acting a certain role he can appear to be a certain type of man, when in reality he is hiding a huge part of his personality. What this does for him is that he can use this notion to manipulate men who he wants to underestimate him, such as Mr. Norton. For me this was the first instance of what I thought the narrator would refer to as having invisibility and using it. Clearly he's at least succeeding with his mask of deception as noted by his powerful position and wealth.
Since it's clear that Bledsoe is privy to an understanding of his identity that others are not, the next question to ask is whether Ellison means for Bledsoe to be viewed as an individual who is enlightened, or is Bledsoe really still very disillusioned. Perhaps he is truly happy with his position in life and feels that what he wants in life is simply to have power. An alternative option, however, is that Bledsoe is trapped by his identity and the fact that he has to pretend for such a large portion of his life to be a different person. Perhaps he's not enlightened at all. Both cases could be made and supported.
Another interesting example of a character who could be perceived as both enlightened or trapped is the veteran that the narrator encounters in the Golden Day, and then again as he's boarding his train. On both occasions the vet imparts a wealth of information and advice upon the narrator. For instance, "He has eyes and ears and a good distended African nose, but he fails to understand the facts of life [...] He's invisible, a walking personification of the Negative, the most perfect achievement of your dreams sir!" (94). In many ways it feels as though we're talking to a version of the narrator we see in the prologue. This is someone clearly feels as though he understands things that both of them do not. He is enlightened to "the facts of life" where the Narrator is still clueless. Still we wonder if this is really a man who can be considered to be enlightened and wise in the ways of the world. For all his wisdom he's still locked up in an insane asylum, and Bledsoe can have control of him by making a phone call. On the other hand, however, he does seem much more at peace and in control of himself than the narrator certainly. This suggests that perhaps the vet is in fact enlightened and more aware than others. Bledsoe and the Vet represent two opposite sides of the spectrum. The Vet understands what invisibility means and seems at peace with himself. Bledsoe, however, understands it and uses it for his own devices. The question I've been asking myself is this: Are either of these men to be considered enlightened, and if so what does that say about Ellison's perception of identity and invisibility?
Another interesting example of a character who could be perceived as both enlightened or trapped is the veteran that the narrator encounters in the Golden Day, and then again as he's boarding his train. On both occasions the vet imparts a wealth of information and advice upon the narrator. For instance, "He has eyes and ears and a good distended African nose, but he fails to understand the facts of life [...] He's invisible, a walking personification of the Negative, the most perfect achievement of your dreams sir!" (94). In many ways it feels as though we're talking to a version of the narrator we see in the prologue. This is someone clearly feels as though he understands things that both of them do not. He is enlightened to "the facts of life" where the Narrator is still clueless. Still we wonder if this is really a man who can be considered to be enlightened and wise in the ways of the world. For all his wisdom he's still locked up in an insane asylum, and Bledsoe can have control of him by making a phone call. On the other hand, however, he does seem much more at peace and in control of himself than the narrator certainly. This suggests that perhaps the vet is in fact enlightened and more aware than others. Bledsoe and the Vet represent two opposite sides of the spectrum. The Vet understands what invisibility means and seems at peace with himself. Bledsoe, however, understands it and uses it for his own devices. The question I've been asking myself is this: Are either of these men to be considered enlightened, and if so what does that say about Ellison's perception of identity and invisibility?
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