The Novel As Counter-Phyllison Analysis
4. The Novel as Counter-Narrative
After having shown that Ellison challenges dominant historiography by showcasing how the black individual's experience can contest it, one question remains: How can historiography not only be exposed as biased but be changed to reflect reality? When the protagonist's journey of disillusionment reaches its climax, he can only formulate a bitter answer to this question. In the face of Clifton's death, he admits his powerlessness over changing biased historiography: All things, it is said, are duly recorded […]. But not quite, for actually it is only the known, the seen, the heard and only those events that the recorder regards as important that are put down, those lies his keepers keep their power by. But the cop would be Clifton's historian, his judge, his witness, and his executioner […]. Where were the historians today? And how would they put it down? (IM 439) …show more content…
The protagonist realizes that he does not have the power to take charge of historiography. By virtue of his invisibility, he is “too distant from the centers of historical decision to sign […] the […] historical documents” (439). He returns to this train of thought in the epilogue when he states that “[he will] leave such [historical] decisions to Jack and his ilk while [he tries] belatedly to study the lesson of [his] own life (572). Does this signify surrender to historiography, then? Not at all. In focusing on the “lesson of [his] own life,” the protagonist can finally make his voice heard and “articulate exactly what [he feels] to be the truth,” whereas before he found himself in the situation that “[t]oo often, in order to justify them, [he] had to […] choke [himself]” (572/3). Because of this, the Invisible Man rejects “the futile game of 'making history'” (575). Instead, he finds an affirmative outlook on life in committing his individual story to writing: So why do I write, torturing myself to put it down? Because in spite of myself I've learned some things. Without the possibility of action, all knowledge comes to one labeled “file and forget,” and I can neither file nor forget. […] Why should I be the one to dream this nightmare […] if not to at least tell a few people about it? […] The hibernation is over. (579/80)
By embracing the novel as counter-narrative to dominant historiography, the protagonist personifies Ellison's philosophy on challenging history in literature, honoring what Ellison calls the “depend[ence] upon the validity of [one's] own experience for an accurate picture of the reality which [one] seek[s] to change” (“The World and the Jug” 114).
Most importantly, Ellison accomplishes a literary master stroke. Since Invisible Man is nearly entirely composed of the protagonist's novel, said novel as an object within the story is transported from its textual dimension into the hands of the reader. In this sense, Invisible Man is the protagonist's novel and becomes a tangible historical object from his world. The way in which it differs from the other objects analyzed in this paper is that it makes no pretense of being an objective historical representation. If anything, Ellison sees the novel as a historical interpretation. This is why the protagonist writes about “what [he feels] to be the truth” and makes no claim to some elusive objective truth (573; emphasis
added). Invisible Man's strength lies in this interpretative character. Considering that the novel has repeatedly shown that crucial realizations are made when an individual questions and reinterprets the historical narratives of objects, including doing so through other objects (e.g. Tarp's shackle), the novel as object in the hands of the reader gains unique power: Invisible Man, too, can act as a revelatory object. For many readers, it undoubtedly has done so. Therefore, the oft-quoted last sentence can be reinterpreted as “Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak [to] you?,” urging us to question our own historical perception (581). If Ellison had not so vehemently rejected the idea of literature serving historical restoration, Invisible Man would have been a different novel. It would not have told the individual story that Ellison wanted it to tell and, consequently, it would not have been the powerful appeal to autonomous critical thought that it has become.
After having shown that Ellison challenges dominant historiography by showcasing how the black individual's experience can contest it, one question remains: How can historiography not only be exposed as biased but be changed to reflect reality? When the protagonist's journey of disillusionment reaches its climax, he can only formulate a bitter answer to this question. In the face of Clifton's death, he admits his powerlessness over changing biased historiography: All things, it is said, are duly recorded […]. But not quite, for actually it is only the known, the seen, the heard and only those events that the recorder regards as important that are put down, those lies his keepers keep their power by. But the cop would be Clifton's historian, his judge, his witness, and his executioner […]. Where were the historians today? And how would they put it down? (IM 439) …show more content…
The protagonist realizes that he does not have the power to take charge of historiography. By virtue of his invisibility, he is “too distant from the centers of historical decision to sign […] the […] historical documents” (439). He returns to this train of thought in the epilogue when he states that “[he will] leave such [historical] decisions to Jack and his ilk while [he tries] belatedly to study the lesson of [his] own life (572). Does this signify surrender to historiography, then? Not at all. In focusing on the “lesson of [his] own life,” the protagonist can finally make his voice heard and “articulate exactly what [he feels] to be the truth,” whereas before he found himself in the situation that “[t]oo often, in order to justify them, [he] had to […] choke [himself]” (572/3). Because of this, the Invisible Man rejects “the futile game of 'making history'” (575). Instead, he finds an affirmative outlook on life in committing his individual story to writing: So why do I write, torturing myself to put it down? Because in spite of myself I've learned some things. Without the possibility of action, all knowledge comes to one labeled “file and forget,” and I can neither file nor forget. […] Why should I be the one to dream this nightmare […] if not to at least tell a few people about it? […] The hibernation is over. (579/80)
By embracing the novel as counter-narrative to dominant historiography, the protagonist personifies Ellison's philosophy on challenging history in literature, honoring what Ellison calls the “depend[ence] upon the validity of [one's] own experience for an accurate picture of the reality which [one] seek[s] to change” (“The World and the Jug” 114).
Most importantly, Ellison accomplishes a literary master stroke. Since Invisible Man is nearly entirely composed of the protagonist's novel, said novel as an object within the story is transported from its textual dimension into the hands of the reader. In this sense, Invisible Man is the protagonist's novel and becomes a tangible historical object from his world. The way in which it differs from the other objects analyzed in this paper is that it makes no pretense of being an objective historical representation. If anything, Ellison sees the novel as a historical interpretation. This is why the protagonist writes about “what [he feels] to be the truth” and makes no claim to some elusive objective truth (573; emphasis
added). Invisible Man's strength lies in this interpretative character. Considering that the novel has repeatedly shown that crucial realizations are made when an individual questions and reinterprets the historical narratives of objects, including doing so through other objects (e.g. Tarp's shackle), the novel as object in the hands of the reader gains unique power: Invisible Man, too, can act as a revelatory object. For many readers, it undoubtedly has done so. Therefore, the oft-quoted last sentence can be reinterpreted as “Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak [to] you?,” urging us to question our own historical perception (581). If Ellison had not so vehemently rejected the idea of literature serving historical restoration, Invisible Man would have been a different novel. It would not have told the individual story that Ellison wanted it to tell and, consequently, it would not have been the powerful appeal to autonomous critical thought that it has become.