Thursday, September 18, 2014

Staying in White Lines

Hello everyone,
I love having blogs as a way to express ourselves -- It’s so informal and therefore very refreshing and peaceful. I have enjoyed reading blogs so far and I feel very inspired by all of the thoughts people have about the books, or how they relate to other things, or just life.


I am now in this place where I have to write about Invisible Man, but I am a little stuck what to write about -- there’s definitely a lot going on through these chapters. But I first wanted to touch on something that I think about often, and that may, in some way, relate to Invisible Man.


Throughout my whole life I have gone to school, to restaurants, I’ve watched movies that take place in the 1940’s and 50’s, etc. What do these all have in common? Schools have janitors, restaurants have waiters, and movies have all sorts of “help” in them. I’m the type of person to strike a conversation with a random person, so this category of people is no exception. They are supposed to be behind the scenes, but yet are right in our faces. They pick up after us, they make things look shiny and like there was never a mess in the first place. So, I try talking to waiters and janitors (waiters more often), but most of the time I’m given a stare, and they’re generally surprised I am trying to engage with them. They are told to be invisible and they are used to being invisible. By now, especially in a college town like Urbana, most waiters and waitresses are college students and happen to pick up those jobs for money during college. But a lot of the janitors at Uni, other schools, or even for university buildings, do have those jobs for life. So, it becomes more awkward, right? They pick up the slack, but not in that “respectable” type of way (I don’t completely understand). They are forced to work behind the scenes, to be cast into a group of the invisibles, and aren’t really allowed to defy that.


When I was writing Invisibles, it felt like I was writing Incredibles (haha). Anyway, what I am talking about here is a very present thing, but not something that we ever really discuss in a conversation-based level. But we read Invisible Man, a story where the narrator is also invisible in many senses -- classified into the groups he’s a part of that he can’t control, solely a representation of something instead of actually being a solid, tangible person… Of course there’s something powerful about this invisibleness -- it gives the narrator a lens on which to change and find who he really is, but also it must be this constant mind whir of confusion and forced schizophrenia (this is a little intense, I know, but there’s a lot of hallucinogenic images  in here). As a class, we take the idea of this invisibleness so seriously, right? The book is this space where we can explore how awful our narrator’s life is, and I think it’s incredible Ellison was able to include this huge concept in a novel, but I also feel torn. I care so much about this book, I can read and write blogposts about it, I can even feel like my life is so much more connected to this very book than to the help that serves me at a restaurant or in school. We all know that those trash cans lying around with trays on the side holding spray bottles have been touched by human beings.

I am sure this stems from an insecurity of my own -- not the fact that I can take these books seriously, but just why I have to criticize that. I need to have more appreciation for book analysis, I think. Or maybe it’s something else. But still, I do think it’s interesting what space this book serves for us, and how it contrasts to other aspects of our lives. Oops for not writing so much about the book (I am interested in the Jolly Man scene, though, don’t get me wrong).

2 comments:

  1. When you refer to custodial staff (or other service-industry people) as often "invisible" in the performance of their jobs, you make a very good point. And the invisibility Ellison writes about can indeed be extended into all kinds of other areas. When you talk specifically about the invisibility of janitorial staff at Uni--a great illustration of people whose necessary and valued work goes largely unrecognized by the people it benefits--I'm put to mind of the scene in _The Breakfast Club_, where the janitor goes off on the schoolkids for marginalizing him. I've never thought about it before, but he presents himself in terms that are reminiscent of Ellisonian invisibility, reminding them how much he knows about them, cleaning up their trash. It gives him a critical perspective, a sense of maneuverability, the fact that he isn't seen (or, that when he is seen, they only see a "janitor" and disrespect him in their minds).

    People who clean houses, or hotel rooms, or restaurants must know a lot about the people they serve, who are in a sense vulnerable through their socially more lofty position.

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  2. I know you wrote this awhile ago, but I happened across this post tonight and it really caught my attention. I think the point you make about being attached to the book not always being for the best is interesting, but I almost feel as though this post contradicts that. Ellison's main goal in writing "Invisible Man" is to show the journey of an African-American man who is discriminated against for various reasons, mainly his race, but perhaps there are more, subtler goals. Maybe Ellison is trying to get readers to think about how human beings treat each other in general. The whole relationship between workers and those who are not working but benefit from the work is very inhumane because more often than not, the workers are ignored and treated as less important. It is strange for people who fill both of those roles in different settings and this book helps remind people to treat others respectfully. Maybe Ellison didn't plan that, but it is obviously playing out that way, as shown by your post.

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