Ralph Ellison

Invisible Man is a milestone in American literature, a book that has continued to engage readers since its appearance in 1952. A first novel by an unknown writer, it remained on the bestseller list for sixteen weeks, won the National Book Award for fiction, and established Ralph Ellison as one of the key writers of the century. The nameless narrator of the novel describes growing up in a black community in the South, attending a Negro college from which he is expelled, moving to New York and becoming the chief spokesman of the Harlem branch of "the Brotherhood", and retreating amid violence and confusion to the basement lair of the Invisible Man he imagines himself to be. The book is a passionate and witty tour de force of style, strongly influenced by T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land, Joyce, and Dostoevsky.

Invisible Man

Ralph Ellison's impassioned first novel, winner of the prestigious American National Book Award, tells the story of an invisible man simply because people refuse to see me. Yet his powerfully depicted adventures go far beyond the story of one man.

clara

I denounce because though implicated and partially responsible, I have been hurt to the point of abysmal pain, hurt to the point of invisibility. And I defend because in spite of it all, I find that I love. In order to get some of it down I have to love. I sell you no phony forgiveness, I'm a desperate man – but too much of your life will be lost, its meaning lost, unless you approach it as much through love as through hate. So I approach it through division so I denounce and I defend and I hate and I love.

But my world has become one of infinite possibilities. What a phrase - still it's a good phrase and a good view of life, and a man shouldn't accept any other; that much I've learned underground. Until some gang succeeds in putting the world in a strait jacket, its definition is possibility.

"Old woman, what is this freedom you love so well?" 

She looked surprised, then thoughtful, then baffled. "I done forgot, son. It's all mixed up. First I think it's one thing, then I think it's another. It gits my head to spinning. I guess now it ain't nothing but knowing how to say what I got up in my head.’’

And I knew that it was better to live out one's own absurdity than to die for that of others

Julie <3

And I remember too, how we confronted those others, those who had set me here in this Eden, whom we knew though we didn't know, who were unfamiliar in their familiarity, who trailed their words to us through blood and violence and ridicule and condescension with drawling smiles, and who exhorted and threatened, intimidated with innocent words a they described to us the limitations of our lives and the vast boldness of our aspirations

(Loved? Demanded. Sung? An ultimatum accepted and ritualized, an allegiance recited for the peace it imparted, and for that perhaps loved. Loved as the defeated come to love the symbols of their conquerors. A gesture of acceptance, of terms laid down and reluctantly approved.)

even here in the filtering dusk, here beneath the deep indigo sky, here, alive with looping swifts and darting moths, here in the hereness of the night not yet lighted by the moon that looms blood-red behind the chapel like a fallen sun, its radiance shedding not upon the here-dusk of twittering bats, nor on the there-night of cricket and whippoorwill, but focused short-rayed upon our place of convergence; and we drifting forward with rigid motions, Iimbs stiff and voices now silent, as though on exhibit even in the dark, and the moon a white man's bloodshot eve.

what was real, what solid. what more than a pleasant, time-killing dream? For how could it have been real if now I am invisible? If real, why is it that I can recall in all that island of greenness no fountain but one that was broken, corroded and dry? And why does no rain fall through my recollections, sound through my memories, soak through the hard dry crust of the still so recent past? Why do I recall, instead of the odor of seed bursting in springtime, only the yellow contents of the cistern spread over the lawn's dead grass? Why? And how? How and why?

Before that I lived in the darkness into which I was chased, but now I see. I've illuminated the blackness of my invisibility—and vice versa.

I remember that I am invisible and walk softly so as not to awaken the sleeping ones. 

Paige Wanner

Life altering. Stunning. Perfectly crated.

_linia_

Bria

“I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.”

Gavin

natalie

“The world is a possibility if only you'll discover it.”

Reading this for school most definitely took the fun out of it, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. 

Invisible Man follows an unnamed black narrator who speaks of his invisibility. His invisibility is due to him being a black man in the early 1900's United States. 

Throughout the novel, we follow him on his journey to becoming someone, anyone with importance. His identity changes from time to time, from him learning new lessons or becoming involved in certain crowds. He chooses his actions based on what he feels but also based on how the white men around him want him to act. 

This book has many lessons and morals to learn from and I truly feel that it is an important book to read. 

The main thing I loved about this book was the writing. Ralph Ellison has a way with words and a way of making the book feel natural. The language/prose makes you feel like you are there with the narrator, experiencing what he is experiencing and learning the lessons he learns. 

It was hard to get through, though, because of the philosophical take. Many pages were just filled with long paragraphs of the narrator talking about life, invisibility, equality, death, identity, etc. and I found myself bored very often. But in the end, those pages are the ones with the lessons and ideologies we need to be exposed to and learn from. 

i suck at ending reviews so bye lol

Elda Mengisto

"I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids--and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me." 

The beginning is simply that--an affirmation of what people (namely the reader) would perceive of the narrator, whose invisible nature even results in him not getting a name. He also paints a picture of what the world around him was like--indifferent towards his humanity, they consider him a shadow or somebody to be played with for their own purposes.

Starting from the South, the un-named narrator goes up to New York to find himself a job, only to find out that his path was merely that to get rid of him. He finds himself reflecting in his identity, only to join the Brotherhood--a communist-like group which would allow the rights the invisible man seeks. And that has its own loop-holes...

When I was in high school, I read the famous "Battle Royale" scene for my Short Story class; I remember the amount of brutality in which the kids are forced to reckon with. In context of the entire book, it's more of an avenue to which one could attain glory for the future, represented by a simple suitcase. The gold coins which were only tokens for cars were a bit jarring, though--were they meant to symbolize insincerity of some sort?

I relate to the main character in his college years--I did want to get a better life for my own sake through classes. The scene in which he ends up driving Mr. Norton into danger and thus, getting him injured was quite the surprise. It also indicates how much the main character got into trouble because of a minor action, which ultimately lead's into the next part of his life. The end of that time, where he "stood in the darkened doorway trying to probe my future if I were expelled. Where would I go, what would I do? How could I ever return home?" (135)

One of the more compelling parts of the book was how the main character uses his words to make an impact. It helps him get the scholarship during the Battle Royale, and gets him a job with the Brotherhood when he fights for the evicted couple. Once there, he becomes a mouthpiece, but is forced into the strict discipline that is needed to become one of them. I've never felt that way in terms of getting into a political cause, but I always liked using my words to try to make a difference. And that's what makes the "invisible man" less invisible, though it doesn't always lead to a happy ending.

The reading experience was a bit of a drag--sometimes, I got lost into the prose and the whole depth of it, and I almost felt indifferent about the whole thing. However, there were musings in which I get into the Invisible Man's struggle and am encouraged to learn a bit more. And there wer bits of dry humor in it, which was always a plus.

Invisible Man is definitely a classic, but a bit hard to get into. If you're into the Battle Royale scene, while serious on its own terms, let it be known it's only the beginning of one man's arc, which has its own ups and downs.

Celeste Richardson

“I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids-and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, because people refuse to see me.”

I’m a sucker for good openings. If an author gives me a great opening line or paragraph, I’ll likely stick with the story to the end, even if the magic dissipates after the first few pages. Which is the main reason I finished this book. I understand that I’m in the minority here. Don’t get me wrong, I can see why it’s a classic and I’m glad I can now say that I read it. But, to me, those first few lines were magic that never quite reasserted itself in the rest of Ellison’s work. 

The novel started out strong. Really strong. Our nameless narrator was trying to make the best life for himself that a black man could at that time, and tried to use his powerful oration to help his fellow man. For the first third of the novel, I was engrossed in his life, my heart heavy with sympathy and guilt for the sins of my forefathers. But after (view spoiler)[ the narrator was basically given an electrical lobotomy to erase his memory,  (hide spoiler)] the book started to unravel for me. There were still moments of beauty and moments of heartache. Mary was a wonderful character, and I smiled any time she was in a scene. But the further I read, the more disjointed the book seemed to me. I don’t know if this was purposeful, to show how damaged the narrator was from the spoiler above, or if it was just in how I read, but I lost my connection to the narrator. I felt disconnected from about the middle of the book until the epilogue, where our nameless narrator is once more his present self. Here I reconnected, right before Ellison wrapped up his tale. 

Overall, I am glad that I read Invisible Man. I went into it knowing that it wouldn’t be an enjoyable read. How could it be, given the subject matter? But it was a thought-provoking read. I hate that I couldn’t maintain my involvement with the story all the way through the novel, but I don’t blame Mr. Ellison for that. It was an important story, poetically told.

Elizabeth Dobson

Literally the worst book I've ever read in my life.

Kevin Bertolero

One of the best books I’ve ever read???

Emma

Melody Izard

Well one thing I realized is that I've read this book. But most was fuzzy and scenes kept seeming familiar but not really and finally the scene where the woman wants our unnammed main character to rape her because she believes she is a nymphomaniac reminded me that "yes I have read this book because that is the first time I had ever heard the term nymphomaniac". I kept getting caught up in fretting about who the "founder" was and then maybe missing the whole point of the story. Another one I am sorry I missed our book group discussion.

'I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.' Defeated and embittered by a country which treats him as a non-being, the 'invisible man' retreats into an underground cell, where he smokes, drinks, listens to jazz and recounts his search for identity in white society: as an optimistic student in the Deep South, in the north with the black activist group the Brotherhood, and in the Harlem race riots. And explains how he came to be living underground . . . 'An American classic . . . one of the most original voices of Black America.' The Times

Rose Stanley

An uncomfortable read, which, I suppose, is the point, but I also found that aspects of this verged on the grotesque. The parts with the Trueblood family near the beginning and Sybil near the end left a particularly nasty taste in the mouth. Appreciate the message here, but jury is still out re the delivery.

Summer Stanley

Ruby Huber

A masterfully written, or perhaps woven, tale of a young black man trying to understand the world, and his place in it, if he even has one. I'm glad I read it but I never want to read it again, I'm exhausted.

Jeni Enjaian

This was an odd book, one of those books that I finish and am not really sure how I feel about it. On one hand, the writing is excellent. The prose flows without hitch from one page to the next, from one topic or event to another. However, that fluidity obscures any definitive point. At the end I am unsure of the author's overall purpose in writing the book. The situations that the purposefully unnamed protagonist finds himself in are utterly absurd and mind-numbing. I'm sure that if I read the book more carefully and studied it as if I had to read it for a class I would understand more. I happen to believe, however, that the best books don't need that level of scrutiny to be understood, at least at a surface level.

Cindy

Oof. This novel is hard to read. Not because it's terribly written, but the ways in which pain and manipulation hit so close and so existentially close to home will spoon out your brain like a melon. Invisible Man feels both real and surreal. The overall result is something crushing and terrific that makes everything around you feel so much heavier.

Daryl Houston

Didn't really know what to expect out of this one. There were some powerful bits especially closer to the end, but on the whole I found it a lot more tedious than some others of a similar bent I've read this year.

Invisible Man

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