The Haunting of Slavery

Beloved is heavy on metaphors. It's easy to miss a major theme or metaphor if you don't pay very close attention to what's being said and implied in the book. One of the metaphors I recently picked up on is the idea of the "haunting" of slavery in a post-slavery era. In Beloved, the ghost of the dead baby of the family haunts 124. This is accepted by all, and while several, like Denver's brothers, dislike the fact that the house is haunted, they seem to be helpless against this ghost.

This seems to echo pretty consistently the way that slavery was thought of at the time. There were very few slaves who thought that they could just take on their masters and get rid of them. Most of the slaves had to reluctantly accept suffering as not just a passing thing, but as a way of life. The only other way out of their situation was escape, which was dangerous and could be hard, as some slaves would have to leave their families. This too is echoed in Beloved's plot. To escape the ghost, Howard and Buglar leave the house and their family so they may can get away from the suffering the experience at 124. Just as slavery would break up families with sales of family members, the ghost broke up Sethe and Denver's family.

Another theme along these same lines is the idea that even in a post-slavery world, the ghost of slavery lives on. Denver herself has never experienced slaver firsthand, but there is always the constant reminder of the past. This grows ever stronger with Paul D's arrival at 124. He manages to drive out the ghost. Can we see him as taking its place in a different type of haunting? The memories of Sweet Home, both good and bad, are seemingly being forced upon Sethe, who by all indications wants to forget Sweet Home. Halle's memory too haunts Sethe. At first she was haunted by his apparent abandonment of her, but now, after Paul D tells her about the butter incident, she is haunted by his insanity.

The themes of slavery "haunting" a post-slavery world are quite literal in Beloved. They even still apply now, almost 150 years after slavery has ended. The "N-word" is so taboo since it is a horrible reminder of the time. The same goes for the historical "Sambo dolls" and "slave banks" that were referenced in Invisible Man. There probably isn't a more fitting metaphor for slavery than a ghost.

Allusion in Hip Hop

Allusion has always been a big part of hip hop. We talked about this a little in class; you hear a lot of allusions and homages to other songs and pop culture, but very rarely, if ever, do you hear a cover song in hip hop. We discussed in class how there are a lot of songs that put their own spin on the line "once upon a time, not long ago" from "Children's Story" by Slick Rick. In fact, one of the songs that alludes to the line was "99 Problems," another song we discussed in class. In the same verse, Jay-Z interpolates a line from LL Cool J's "To Da Break of Dawn" when he says, "You know the type, loud as a motorbike, but wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight", to cleverly describe someone who's all bark and no bite. He also throws in a plug to one of his own songs at one point, saying, "Rap critics say he's 'Money, Cash, Hoes'", an offhand reference to the song of the same name, and bemoaning the fact that people don't take him seriously based on some of his songs.

"99 Problems" also has many lines that are referenced in other songs. At one point, Jay-Z takes on his critics, saying, "I'm like, fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole." A bit graphic, but it gets the point across. In "Power," Kanye West makes an homage to this line, saying, "Fuck SNL and the whole cast, tell 'em Yeezy said they can kiss my whole ass." This itself is a response to an episode of SNL in which they parodied Kanye's Taylor Swift debacle, and also made a joke about his deceased mother. In the same song, he makes a subtle reference to the sampled song in the beat, "21st Century Schizoid Man" by King Crimson, saying, "I'm living in that 21st century, doing something mean to it."

This is just one example of how rap songs make homages to each other and pop culture. I could go on about all the references to Nas songs off Illmatic, or all of Jay-Z's lyrics that quote "old school" hip hop, but I chose these as concise examples, two of which we've talked about in class. I hope that instead of dismissing a line you don't understand, that you look it up, there's an amazing world of allusions out there in the vast wealth of hip hop lyrics.

Illegality and Art in Hip Hop Culture

Illegality has always been a part of hip hop culture. As pointed out recently in class, some of the early gangs in Los Angeles were formed out of former dance crews. Graffiti, the visual art of hip hop, is almost by definition illegal. The first hip hop music as we know it came from parties thrown illegally by tapping power from street lights. Many of the first rap songs illegally sampled other artists to make new music. Illegality, to an extent, seems pretty ingrained in hip hop culture.

One of the questions I've been thinking a lot about lately is "Would hip hop have become so successful, and so popular if it were not for its illegal nature?" This is a tough question, because in my opinion, the answer is both yes and no. Graffiti would likely not have come as far as it has, to the point that many people consider it art, had it not been for the illegal nature of its origins. It seems like part of the beauty of the art comes from its rebellious nature. In Style Wars, while many of the pieces in the gallery were decent, it seemed like some of the passion was gone, it was too easy, and fake. I have to even wonder if graffiti would have made it into an art gallery had it not been for the creation of this art, rebelling against a society that oppresses these artists, on public transportation and buildings.

 On the other hand, I'm more inclined to believe that rap would still have been able to emerge despite its illegal history. Rap music emerged from party culture, and while the first parties were illegal, people probably would still have had the parties had they been legal. The competition for the best party, and the best music still would have emerged if they had had permission to throw them.

The sampling question is a more complicated issue. It is illegal, though not always enforced, to sample another song without permission, though this is often how beats are created in rap. But a greater question is, how much really is stealing? The argument that sampling is wrong is largely that when musicians create music, they should be original, and not copy another artist. However, it's hard to see how a five second sample of a rock song, used to sound totally different, is being unoriginal and copying the music. If you use a sample of a song, but in a totally different way, is it still stealing? What about cover songs? At concerts, it's completely legal to play a cover of a song without even crediting the original artist. What about one chord? Or an entire melody with different lyrics, on a different instrument? What I'm trying to get across is that rap doesn't seem to care about what the law says, but it also isn't dependent on breaking it. If all sampling were legal, people would probably keep right on making beats and songs with samples, and they wouldn't think a part of it was lost.

I'm really left with more questions than answers, but, while I don't know for sure how much of hip hop culture would have emerged without illegality, illegality certainly has been a large part of hip hop from the start.

Questioning Race and Culture

During class today, we strayed far from the story and ended up on the subject of culture. The discussion raised many questions, "Is there a "White Boy" culture?", "What is black culture?", and "Are satirical blogs like Stuff White People Like, which is run by a white man, racist?". These are all difficult, but good questions, and I'll try to answer them in an unbiased way, so you can form your own opinions.

First, and foremost, how do we define culture? Culture is a broad and hard to define term, and Merriam-Webster defines culture as: "The customary beliefs, social forms, and material traits of a racial, religious, or social group and the set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices [of a group]" Of course, no individual will likely embody all the characteristics of their culture, since there are many subcultures even within a larger culture, but that does not mean the person cannot be a significant part of a culture, just because they do not possess all the traits of the culture.

Is there a "White Boy" culture? In the broad sense, yes, but it's not as clearly defined as other cultures, and within it there are many subcultures. It's broadness may be a result of the dominance of Europeans from the early days of the country. Within the larger culture, there is also suburban subculture, surfer subculture, redneck subculture, along with many others. Each of these has their own taste in music, literature, clothing, often have different educational backgrounds, and different ways of speaking. Does this mean there's no such thing as a redneck who listens to classical music or a surfer who says "Y'all", or that they are not a part of the culture if they do? No, but they are likely few and far between, and probably embody most of the other traits of the culture.

What is black culture? African-American culture is hard to define, especially since much of it has become mainstream after the Harlem renaissance. Jazz, Blues, and African-American art and literature became mainstream directly after the Harlem Renaissance. Rock and Hip Hop were later contributions to mainstream music from African-Americans. Soul food has also become popular, with foods like hush puppies, cornbread, and fried chicken becoming commonplace, especially in the south. Hairstyles like dreadlocks and the Afro (derived fom "Afro-American") are also hairstyles used mainly by African-Americans, though they have been adopted by others.

Is the blog Stuff White People Like racist? It's easy to see how it could be seen as racist, it is making generalizations about a group of people, defined by race. It also gives only a narrow view of white culture, focusing on typically wealthy, environmentally and socially conscious, anti-corporate, white Americans, especially those with liberal arts degrees. This is a complex issue, but, especially due to the fact that it was authored by a white man, it seems hard to call it a racist blog, rather than an almost self-deprecating good-natured satire. It's hard to call Jon Stewart an Anti-Semite when he, as a Jewish man, makes jokes about his Jewish heritage almost every night on The Daily Show, and in the same vein, it's hard to look at Stuff White People Like as a racist work.

Do you agree that there is a white culture in America? Is my assessment of Stuff White People Like horribly misguided? I'd love to hear in the comments whatever you have to say about this post.

Narrative Voice and Humor in White Boy Shuffle

One thing that immediately struck me in The White Boy Shuffle was the language. There's an odd contrast between these beautifully crafted sentences and sentences that use a crude street language, sometimes even in the same sentence. One example that comes to mind is when, at dinner his sisters ask if they are adopted, and he comments, "Then Christina, whom I lovingly rechristened with the Native American Fingers-in-Both Nostrils-Thumb-in-Mouth-and-Snot-All-Over-the-Fucking-Place, would pull on the heartstrings and tighten the filial ties." This sort of language is both immensely beautiful and oddly humorous at the same time, which is a testament to his skill as a writer.

Another way the voice strikes me is in the humor of the novel. The entire novel is a weird mix of depressing imagery, flat out funny passages, and dark humor. Through the Prologue and Chapter 1, I see darkly funny passages that I laugh at, and I immediately feel bad for laughing at them. They're the sort of laughs that are made when someone tells an especially racist or sexist joke, and for good reason; the book highlights Gunnar's ancestors, who while they end up in hilarious situations, act as almost a minstrel show, and Paul Beatty almost seems to be daring us to laugh at his characters.

That's not to say that these passages aren't funny, on the contrary, many of them are incredibly ironic and humorous, such as when Swen Kaufman goes and accidentally becomes a slave again, happily dancing and enjoying the space, although he ends up being one of the few men whipped on the plantation, but he continues doing ballet, only to suffer more lashings. On the one hand, it's funny that a free African-American at the time finds a "better" situation in becoming a slave, joyfully working in the fields, yet I feel horrible for laughing at this passage which makes a mockery out of the situation of African-Americans at the time. In the prologue, the narrator describes his planned mass suicide saying, "In glorious defiance of the survival instinct, Negroes stream into Hillside, California, like lemmings. Every day they wishfully look heavenward, peering into the California smog for a metallic gray atomic dot over our natural and processed heads. It will be the Emancipation Disintegration." I admit, I laughed at the Emancipation Disintegration line, which is clever on many levels: the jab at the Emancipation Proclamation, which really didn't free any slaves, how this comments on the situation for African-Americans at the time, the possible prod at segregation and integration, and the obvious pun. At the same time, it feels like a laugh with an asterisk; while it's a funny joke, a large part of me feels terrible laughing at a mass suicide.

At this point in the novel, do you feel the same way about the humor? Do you think I'm a terrible person for laughing at these jokes, or do you think I'm too critical for reading too much into what the author intended to be funny passages?

Does Janie Marry Too Quickly?

One thing I keep noticing as I'm reading Their Eyes Were Watching God is that Janie seems to keep rushing into marriages with people she hardly knows, and they never turn out well. Obviously she didn't rush into the first marriage by herself, and she never wanted to marry Logan, which especially at her age was understandable. However, she meets Jody and quickly falls for him and after only a short time she just leaves Logan and marries Jody. 

Janie and Jody, at least for a short time, seem happy. After a while though, they both get old, the spark falls out of their marriage, and Jody becomes increasingly abusive and stubborn. I can't help but think that if Janie hadn't rushed into the marriage as a solution to her current marriage, she wouldn't have seen some of Jody's poorer traits. I also cannot fathom why she would choose to marry someone else as a solution to her problem, being that she's unhappily married. It seems like the better solution would be to just leave her husband and continue being single. 

After Jody's death, Tea Cake comes into Janie's life. He's goofy, handsome, and charming, and he seems to treat her well, so it makes a lot of sense that she'd fall for him. Yet, after two failed marriages previously, it doesn't really make any sense to again rush into a marriage with a man she barely knows. Sure they get along well now, and he's much better than her previous two husbands, but she only knows him for a few weeks or so before she marries him. That's hardly enough time to decide to spend the rest of their lives together, and they really don't know much about her. In fact, for the first few weeks of the marriage, until the day he brings back the guitar, she doesn't really even trust him, as we see when she's worried he left her. He also doesn't know much about her, as he doesn't know how just how wealthy she is, or that she really would have enjoyed the party, rather than leaving her behind because she's too "high society". We again see lack of trust later when Nunkie blatantly flirts with Tea Cake, and Janie immediately assumes that Tea Cake is cheating on her despite his numerous protests, only much later, and after a fight, convincing her that (truthfully) he wasn't. While their marriage seems fine now, her two failed marriages seem too similar to ignore completely. 

Janie, the Unlikable Protagonist

I have a confession. I don’t like Janie. It seems like a crime to write negatively about an English book, but I just don’t find her an appealing character. I do feel sympathetic to her at times, but, at the same time, I really don’t like her as a character.

            After the scene under the pear tree, Janie is quickly married off to a wealthy, middle aged landowner. I feel sympathetic to her here, especially because of her age. Not only is he much older than her, but she obviously finds him extremely unattractive, and doesn’t love him. I don’t think she should have been forced to marry him at such a young age, when she was still trying to understand her feelings.

Despite the fact that Janie shouldn’t have been married off in the first place, the way she treats Logan right from the beginning is incredibly rude. She starts by calling him names behind his back, saying he looks like “some ole skullhead in de graveyard”. Later, after he calls her spoiled when she won’t work, she says “Ah’m just as stiff as you is stout.”

            Logan’s assertion that Janie is spoiled, while indelicate, seems to be true. While she didn’t love him, after the idea of marriage settled, she was perfectly happy, until she noticed that he stops pampering her by doing all of the work himself, speaking in rhymes to her, and complimenting her hair. She’s only been asked to work, and not been asked to do any more work than she does, yet this is one of the main reasons she tries to get out of the marriage. She seems to have an odd idea of love, in which she doesn’t have to work for anything and she can do whatever she wants. While that sounds nice, love doesn’t pay the bills, and if neither her nor her husband works, they would starve. Logan offers her an opportunity for some luxury at the expense of work. Her other options are less appealing, she could live and work by herself, or she could become a trophy wife, which we later see isn’t as great as she thinks.

            After Janie meets Joe Starks, a rich, young, handsome man, she quickly runs off with him under the promise of marriage, and that he’ll pamper her, and she’ll hardly have to work. She neglects to even tell Logan that she’s leaving him, and for all we know, he never is told. Joe quickly rises to the top of the town they move to and becomes the mayor. Janie tries to speak shortly thereafter, but Joe silences her, claiming women shouldn’t make speeches. I again feel sorry for her, as Joe turns out to be increasingly abusive and sexist. However, Janie’s only job is to work the store, and while this is not a demanding job, she hates the job with a passion.

            Janie’s new husband is much crueler than Logan. The irony is that she would have probably been in a better position with Logan, who, while old, didn’t force her to stay in her “place” or beat her, like Joe. It’s especially hard to feel sympathy for her after hearing her Granny’s story, where she was raised in slavery, worked for no pay, had no land, and was raped by her master. Janie would have had an easy life, and wouldn’t have been treated as poorly if she stayed with Logan. Maybe I’m too quick to judge Janie, as the character we meet at the end is much different than the Janie we know now. But, as it is now, I don’t like her.

Bledsoe as a Well-Meaning Character

Bledsoe in a Sympathetic Light

Bledsoe is a striking character in the narrator's past. He only appears for three or so chapters in the book, and yet almost twenty chapters later he still affects the narrator. He’s an interesting antagonist who seems to be living large by knowing how to play the game right. At the same time, after I had seen him sans “mask” he quickly began to lose appeal. In fact after the exposure of the contents of the letters he gave to the narrator, which had a huge build up, he just disappeared. The sense of mystery was gone. But then, I thought back to Swimming with Sharks, and realized that Bledsoe could be the sympathetic antagonist, or rather a tough love father figure, who teaches the protagonist harsh lessons through harsher means, but with the protagonist’s best interests at heart. This would have been an even more intriguing element to his character and would make even his supposedly unmasked persona into a mask, covering a man with a hard outer shell but a sympathetic heart.

            In Swimming with Sharks, Guy, a young Hollywood writer, becomes assistant to Buddy Ackerman, a big movie producer and one of the most powerful men in Hollywood. The job working for Buddy is known for having a “good lineage”: the previous 4-5 assistants have all gone on to power and fortune in their next jobs. Guy starts his first day and Buddy seems like a great guy until Buddy asks for a packet of Sweet ‘n’ Low, and Guy brings him a packet of Equal. This does not go over well with Buddy, and he chews him out until the point where Guy is afraid he’s lost his job. This scene is very reminiscent of the scene with the Narrator and Bledsoe after he takes Mr. Norton to Trueblood’s house and the Golden Day.

From this point on Buddy is shown as being nothing but abusive, yelling, insulting, and throwing things at Guy every time he makes a simple mistake. Buddy even seems to be pleased with himself after he does this too, smiling to himself as soon as Guy leaves. This too seems familiar to Bledsoe, with him taking pride in his “mask”. Over the course of the movie, Buddy is shown further manipulating Guy, not only verbally abusing him, but pretending to be on his side before stealing his work and taking credit from the CEO. This is also like Bledsoe’s act in front of the other board members. Guy does progressively learn though, and it seems that he too is learning the ropes starting to get a hand on things, like the narrator with his small moments of rebellion in the early part of the novel.

We then cut to a scene (more than a year in the future) where Guy has evidently had it with Buddy. He breaks into his house and tortures him for all of the bad things he has done to him. At this point we begin to see a different side of Buddy. We learn Buddy’s wife was killed and raped by gangsters after she tried to help a car that appeared to have broken down on Christmas Eve. Buddy then says to Guy “I know what it’s like, I can appreciate this. I hated authority, hated all my bosses…. Look it’s like they say, if you’re not a rebel by twenty you’ve got no heart, but if you haven’t turned establishment by thirty you’ve got no brains. There are no storybook romances, no fairy tale endings. So before you run out and change the world, ask yourself what do you really want?”

The movie then cuts back to Guy a year into his job. He’s started to get cocky, he has a nicer car, he now wears a suit and sunglasses, and is shown talking on the phone to people in the same condescending and sarcastic manner as Buddy does when he doesn’t get what he asked for. Guy then notices Buddy pretending to heap praise on him to the other executives on the phone, but Guy notices the light go off signaling the line going dead. We cut back ahead to Buddy’s house as he’s being held captive and Guy confronts him about this asking “Did you really think I was that stupid?” Buddy then attacks him saying “I told you what you needed to hear! You were getting lazy, complacent, complete job burnout, and don’t think I didn’t notice. You didn’t give a shit anymore, dragging your feet everywhere, telling people you were doing my job!” This part of the movie has faint echoes of New York and the Brotherhood, where the narrator starts to get cocky, he starts dressing the way Bledsoe does, and starts “becoming” Bledsoe.

Another parallel is Buddy’s line “I didn’t make the rules, I play by them.” This seems oddly reminiscent of Bledsoe’s discussion with the narrator bragging about his mask where he says the same thing.

At the end Guy learns Buddy was being so tough on him, because if Guy could handle everything he threw at him, he could handle any job. At the end of the movie Guy becomes an executive, and all the little comments Buddy made, seeming to compliment only his own ego shifted meaning, now seeming to be thoughtful advice sprinkled among the hate he had to endure to get this position.

So what do you think? Can Bledsoe, who keeps haunting the narrator’s dreams even now, be seen as someone who only was hard on him so he could learn how to play the game as a black man in America? Am I reading too much into this comparison? I’ll be glad to hear anything you have to say.

Touring a Tour

            In Melvin Dixon’s Tour Guide: La Maison des Esclaves, Dixon narrates a tour he took of La Maison des Esclaves, the House of Slaves, in Senegal. The House of Slaves was the last holding point for slaves before they exited overseas. The tour in the poem works on two levels. In it the author not only recounts his experiences of the tour to us, but gives us a thorough tour of the building, its history, the tour guide, the tour itself, and people’s reactions to the tour. He takes us on a tour through the present and past of the building, and in this sense, he encompasses more history than the tour guide at the memorial himself. The past of the building is frequently referenced, with bold, harsh imagery such as “men traveling in spoon fashion, / women dying in afterbirth” and “we stand in the weighing room / where chained men paraded firm backs, / their women open, full breasts, / and children, / rows of shiny teeth.” (Dixon 2-3, 27-31). The tour guide is described similarly: “His guttural French is a hawking trader. / His quick Wolof a restless warrior. / His slow, impeccable syllables a gentleman trader.” (Dixon 18-22). He also paints pictures of reactions to the memorial: “We take / photographs to remember, others leave coins to forget. / No one speaks / except iron on stone / and the sea / where nothing’s safe.” (Dixon 47-53). Throughout this poem, the reader feels a mixed bag of emotions from uncomfortable to eerie, all of which further the author’s purpose of letting us experience what he did. With all of these factors combined the author paints a powerful portrait of a harrowing reminder of the past.

The Nameless Narrators

While it’s an unlikely comparison, the narrator in Invisible Man parallels the narrator in Fight Club quite closely. They both are nameless throughout their respective books; they use poetic language and metaphor, use a flashback to explain how they arrived at their current situation at the beginning of the book, and are of questionable sanity. This comparison can help understand the characters in both books, and give new insight to the psychology of the character.

Through both books the narrators of Invisible Man and Fight Club are nameless. This gives them a certain artistic license. It shrouds them in a layer of mystery, and to some level, it allows us to put ourselves in their place. They seem to be, on some level, metaphorical products of their environments, racism and consumerism, rebelling against the world. The fact that we don’t know who they are almost makes the voice feel like our own, and it also blurs the lines between thought and voice in both novels.

The language used by the narrators through the novels, especially in the chapter before the flashback, and gradually more so as it approaches that point, is a very poetic, odd, and striking voice. They use strange imagery that makes you question your perceptions. In Invisible Man the narrator describes a statue of the college founder lifting a veil from a slave’s head. He says “When I look again, the bronze face, whose empty eyes look upon a world I have never seen, runs with liquid chalk–creating another ambiguity to puzzle my groping mind: Why is a bird-soiled statue more commanding than one that is clean?” In Fight Club the narrator has lost everything in his apartment in an explosion and he comments “I wasn’t the only slave to my nesting instinct. The people I know who used to sit in the bathroom with pornography, now they sit in the bathroom with their IKEA furniture catalog.” These narrators both use unusual images that truly make you read over them several times thinking "Did I read that right?", which is exactly what they are trying to do, make you look over to truly understand the deeper meaning which lies within almost humorous images.

Imagery of death plays a large role in the voice of the narrators. In Invisible Man, the narrator beats up a man then says “Something in this man’s this man’s thick head had sprung out and beaten him within an inch of his life. I began to laugh at this crazy discovery. Would I have awakened at the point of death? Would Death himself have freed him for wakeful living?” This results in a powerful image, making us question whether we are truly more free than those who are dead. In Fight Club the narrator also questions life in a 9-5 job. Wondering if a job, even one where he gets to travel regularly, really means freedom he states “I set my watch two hours earlier or three hours later, Pacific, Mountain, Central, or Eastern time; lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time.”

            Both books start in the present and use a flashback to explain how they arrived there. They both feature dark imagery. In Invisible Man the narrator is living in a basement apartment with over one thousand light bulbs, and beats up a man just for calling him a name, and we still wonder if he isn’t enlightened as he talks about being invisible. In Fight Club the narrator is at the top of a building with a man with a gun in the narrator’s mouth, and explosives at the base of the building. The narrator voices his thoughts and words poetically throughout this entire chapter, yet most of what is being said is meaningless to us as we don’t know how he got there. These chapters also bring into the back of our minds a question of sanity of the narrators for the rest of the book, as we aren’t necessarily sure that they’re insane, but at the same time owning a basement apartment with over one thousand light bulbs, and questioning the cleanliness of the gun in your mouth rather than the fact that there is one there don’t really seem to be behaviors of a sane person.

            With all of this in consideration, these narrators seem to come across as more effective than if we know everything about the narrator. If we know their name we are assured that they’re fictional, which, while expected, in some way still lingers at the back of our minds. If our narrator is a Harvard graduate, we criticize their upbringing, we assume they were a legacy admission, we dismiss their knowledge of life unrelated to academics. The fact that they have no name, no town associated with them, and they use elaborate and unique imagery makes them seem almost like a messiah; because we know little to nothing about them, there is little or nothing to hold against them or detract from their voice, even the argument of sanity. One of the questions both these books pose is one of what defines and blurs the lines of sanity and insanity. This makes us question ourselves rather than the narrators, and makes them seem all the more powerful. 

Judging the Unjudgable Character

Bigger's character is nearly impossible to judge, from whether or not I even like him, to whether he deserved his punishment. He does many actions that are neither inherently good or bad, such as holding the rat in front of his sister's face, and it seems his reaction sets the tone for how "bad" it is. The entire book I feel like I'm on the jury determining Bigger's fate. In a sense he deserves his punishment, he did rape and intentionally kill someone, but not the person he's on trial for.

Wright does a great job of creating a character that is hard to decide how to feel for one way or another.  I can't help but think that the courtroom scene works as a metaphor for the book as a whole, with the statements by Buckley and Max arguing for their polarized views about Bigger and civil rights as a whole. The way he creates Bigger's character inherently created polarized reactions to him, from empathy, to being called "a small-time negro Hitler." While he disagreed with many of the reactions to his book, the fact that his character was so controversial opened up  the opportunity for discussion about Bigger and the greater civil rights movement as a whole.