A "Door-In" to Literature

Ralph Ellison’s novel begins with a simple statement, “I am an invisible man” (1). The narrator then goes on to describe his experience feeling literally invisible, his entire existence practically incomprehensible to anyone but himself. But a question arises when we see the slow onset of invisibility suddenly face a rapid progression in chapter 12 through a sickeningly intense electro-shock therapy session. As we see our narrator begin to lose himself and fall deeper and deeper into invisibility, does he lose his identity? Or does invisibility itself become his being? Here, I’d like to argue that not only is invisibility a valid identity, but in fact, it is the only valid identity. Trapped on the operating table, our narrator thinks “I could no more escape than I could think of my identity. Perhaps, I thought, the two things are involved with each other. When I discover who I am, I’ll be free” (243). Our narrator is absolutely right at this moment. He finds his identity, through i

     Bigger Thomas is a rapist and a murderer. The second twice over, but the first only once. These three crimes should be more than enough to convict and sentence him to death, yet, in his prosecution, Buckley chooses instead to focus instead on a heinous act that Bigger did not, in fact, commit, the rape of Mary Dalton. This rape is the very crux of Buckley’s case, exemplified in his statement, “He killed her because he raped her! Mind you, Your Honor, the central crime here is rape ! Every action points toward that!” (413). This approach is permissible in court because Max allows it. Max completely dismisses the idea that Bigger did not rape Mary saying, “Let us not concern ourselves with that part of Bigger Thomas’ confession that says […] he did not rape the girl. It really does not matter” (403). Why does it not matter? Why is Bigger convicted largely on a crime that he did not in fact commit?            The answer comes down to public perception. Bigger himself sums it up bes