Ralph Ellison's "Invisible Man" p.2298

The essay by Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man, is very much like T.S. Elliot’s, The Wasteland. He does not give the reader time to dwell on any image, as he quickly moves from one thing to another and yet another in his writing. Unlike Elliot, he doesn’t give the reader notes by which to go by. For example, when he gets high, he starts to dream and he makes references to bible passages. I believe that Jonah and the whale myth is one of them, but I don’t know for sure.


I think that the prologue is an explanation of how black folk felt and were seen in the days of slavery. Chapter one is a response to the way Ellison feels about Booker T. Washington’s Atlanta Exposition Speech. Ellison does not come out and say exactly that, but you can sense the sarcasm in tone of his essay. He himself takes on the role of Booker T. Washington and paints a very sarcastic picture. When he is delivering his speech (Washington’s Atlanta Exposition Speech), he mentions equality and is scolded and guided by the white man to redirect his speech. This did not happen in Washington’s speech. However, it seems as though Ellison is implying just that.

What I found most striking about this essay is the prologue. In the beginning, he seems to show his anger towards society and the way that black folks were treated (invisible). Ellison implies that it is the white man’s loss when he states:

Meanwhile I enjoy my life with the compliments of Monopolated Light and Power. Since you never recognize me even when in closest contact with me, and since, no doubt, you’ll hardly believe that I exist, it won’t matter….

The way I interpret this is that an individual can be a very powerful person and be able to do a lot of good for the world, but unless he is visible to the world and given a chance, one will never know.

Another passage that I find very striking is when he says, “ Once I asked for a cigarette, some jokers gave me a reefer, which I lighted when I got home and sat listening to my phonograph…I not only entered the music but descended like Dante, into its depths.”

When I read this piece it reminded me of the movie Friday, by Ice Cube, when Smokey jumps in the 64 Impala with the Mexicans. They smoked some stuff with him. He thought they were smoking reefer, but instead he was given sherm (angel dust). Smokey also started to descend, but ended up in a chicken coop, twitching.

I chose to write about Gwendolyn Brooks because I can relate to her material. I particularly liked the piece titled, “A Song in the Front Yard” because it reminds me of when I grew up in the hood. She writes about the ghetto, describing it as a harsh yet entertaining environment. It is fascinating how she successfully paints a beautiful picture of the ghetto, and transforms it into an intriguing place in which to have fun.

Brooks does an excellent job of making the ghetto come to life. As I read her poem, I was easily transported to the days when I used to enjoy playing in the streets of my neighborhood. Much like the voice in the poem who felt a strong desire for playing in the ghetto, I too felt a sudden nostalgia for the rough and dirty places I used to trample in.

The tone of the author in this piece is that of a rebellious child, questioning the rules and yearning for freedom to do as she wishes and be like the kids in the ghetto. She says:

“My
mother sneers, but I say it’s
fine

How they don’t have to go in at a quarter to
nine.

My mother, she tells me that Johnnie Mae

Will grow up to be a bad
woman…

But I say it’s fine. Honest, I do.

And I’d like to be a bad woman, too.”

I remember the multitude of times when my parents tried to persuade me into thinking that all of my neighborhood buddies where bad people. Unlike the character in Brooks’ poem, I did not have the guts to say that “it was fine.” Instead, I would agree, sneak out behind their backs and stay out until a quarter to three, in the morning that is.

I think that the sociological aspects in this piece are the stereotypes made by the middle class woman of the lower class “charity children.” One could get a feel for how this middle class family lives, by the descriptions given in this poem. They have a front yard with roses, and a gate in the backyard that leads to the alley. One gets the impression that the mother and her daughter do not live in the ghetto. Although little George may be a bad kid, on the account that he stole and sold this family’s back gate, it does not mean that Johnnie Mae will turn out to be a bad woman just because she lives down the alley in the concrete jungle (ghetto).