Dolls In 'Tod Cliftons Invisible Man'

Dolls. We are surrounded by dolls. G. I. Joe, Barbie, Polly Pocket, and WWF action figures. Prior to our plasticene friends we had paper dolls, marionettes, and delicately featured porcelain dolls. We are strangely fascinated by these cold, lifeless objects that look so much like ourselves. Children clutch them and create elaborate scenes, while adults are content to simply collect, allowing them to sit, motionless on a shelf, staring coolly back at their live counterparts. Which brings us to and interesting point, are people simply dolls for other people to play with or collect? <br><br>One could make the argument that we are all Tod Cliftons', doomed to dance by invisible strings while wearing a mask of individualism. However, unlike Tod Clifton, most of us will not realize that who
It is a scene that seems to fade into the mishmash of confusion that accompanies this part of the novel, but it is nonetheless very important. As the narrator lies in his glass enclosed box with wires and electrodes attached all over his body, he is subjected to shock treatment. <br><br>"Look, he's dancing," someone called.<br>"No, really?"<br>..." They really do have rhythm, don't they? Get hot, boy! Get hot!" it said with a laugh. (237)<br><br>This image is almost a perfect match with that of Clifton's dancing Sambo doll. The only thing missing is the huge grin and even that is taken care of with the line, "My teeth chattered" (237) giving us the picture of a grotesque and pained smile. He experiences a burst of anger which I can only assume means that he catches a glimpse of the strings that he is being pulled by and is helpless to do anything about it.<br><br>Our final encounter with a doll occurs again with Clifton's dancing Sambo. At the end of the narrative, while