A Preemptive Analysis of the Prologue and Chapter One of Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man

“Preemptive,” because I wrote this analysis of the Prologue and Chapter 1 (Battle Royal) before I read the whole book.

Of the Narrator’s “Invisibility”

The Narrator in Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man declares that though he is a “man of substance,” and “flesh and bone,” he is invisible. His invisibility, he continues, is not one of a lack of matter or form, but one that arises from the refusal of white America to recognize him as a person. More specifically, his invisibility arises from white America’s refusal to acknowledge his very existence, and from its choosing instead to see his surroundings, its own selves, or figments of its own imagination,” all of which reflect the contemporary society's unwillingness to address the racial issues that beleaguered it. The Narrator further explains that his invisibility is a result of the “peculiar disposition” of the “inner eyes”—or, as I interpret it, the subconscious—with which white America perceived him, as a black man.

His invisibility, to be sure, had major disadvantages. He lamented that it was “most often wearing on the nerves,” to be constantly “bumped against.” Also, even he began to doubt his own existence: was he merely a piece of somebody’s daydream? Could he be a specter in another’s reverie? Would he evaporate like vapor rising from a boiling kettle, or dissipate like smoke from a smothered fire when the person, in whose trance he existed, woke up?

In spite of these disadvantages, invisibility for the Narrator brought its admixture of advantages, at least to the extent that he did not have to worry about ubiquitous daily concerns like utility bills. Indeed, he had no worries, no concerns, and... no responsibilities. Yes, for the Narrator, a lack of responsibility, or to use his precise word, ‘irresponsibility’ is a part of his invisibility. Why? Because responsibility derives from recognition, and recognition implies an acknowledgement of another’s existence. The narrator’s position was that since his existence was not acknowledged by mainstream society, he did not have an obligation to be responsible to it. Some deductively argument, you'd have to agree!

Of the Grandfather’s Dying Words

Initially I found the Narrator’s grandfather’s last words to be quite self-contradictory. He had been described as a meek man, who made no trouble—obviously the Negro type that the white power structure found desirable. At his death, he had been aggrieved by his life of meekness and conformity to the desires of the white man. For being such a yes-man he had characterized himself as “a traitor” and “a spy”.

The self-contradiction came when in the next breath he urged his son to “overcome ‘em with yeses, undermine ‘em with grins, agree ‘em to death and destruction…” I could not reconcile how Grandpa, while saddened by his own life of acquiescence, would urge his son to grant the white America, general concessions.

Upon deeper thought, I came to see the old man’s position. The dying man saw the futility in the Negro's overt attempt to wrest equality from the hands of white America in the prevailing state-of-affairs. In his estimation, the Negro could only succeed in his quest for equality, if he first acquiesced to the white man, or made appearances to that effect, while in fact attempting to gain acceptance into the mainstream. Once he had been properly infused, he would be in a position to articulate his desires for equity in a way that white American could not help but accede.

So, self-contradictory as it may have seemed, the Narrator’s grandfather was actually offering a modus operandi to his progeny, urging them to conform to the white American’s expectations, at least for the time being. As he saw it, in conceding to the white man, would be a victory, one that is not evident to the uninitiated eye, but is to manifest itself ultimately in the acceptance of the Negro, and in his eventual equality with the white man.

Keeping the Nigger-boy Running

Towards the end of “Battle Royal,” the Narrator dreams a rather curious dream in which his grandfather instructs him to open the envelop in [a] briefcase. Within the envelope is another envelope and within that one, another yet…until, in the narrator’s words, “I thought I would fall of weariness.” Grandpa said—dryly—of the envelope after envelop, “Them’s years.” The Narrator finally opens an envelope that contains an engraved document, which reads, “Keep This Nigger-boy Running.”

The implications of the narrator’s grandfather’s remark, and the message on the document, in my assessment are very ominous indeed. Grandpa’s remark, “Them’s years,” means that the Narrator would spend year after year striving for intellectual advancement in hopes that such would increase his prospects in the grossly skewed society, but that all would be to no avail. Why? Because there is a conspiracy, in the depths of the document’s message, which translates to, "Occupy this boy’s time and mind with any- and everything, lest he finds time to engage in political agitation. Keep This Nigger-boy Running.