Invisible Fear

After the narrator’s confusing and traumatizing experience at the paint factory’s hospital in Invisible Man, he is sent to speak with “the director.” There, this director tells him that he must find a new, “easier, quieter” job to support himself (246). Once again, the invisible man’s potential bridge to a more “normal” lifestyle (as widely defined by society), has been torn down just as quickly as he found it. This experience and feeling of having to start over once again is probably another confusing and frustrating moment for the narrator, who is growing increasingly lost and disillusioned with the society around him. I found that the most fascinating aspect of this section, however, was the particular manner in which the invisible man’s life seemed to change after this interaction. Rather than simply feeling lost and more desperate as I would have expected, the narrator remarks that he “was no longer afraid” (249). 

But why?

Within the conversation with the director, one of the most interesting moments was when, suddenly, the narrator asks about Mr. Norton. The passage states:

“It came out of itself: "Do you know Mr. Norton, sir?" I said.

"Norton?" His brows knitted. "What Norton is this?"

Then it was as though I hadn't asked him; the name sounded strange. I ran my hand over my eyes.

“I'm sorry," I said. "It occurred to me that you might. He was just a man I used to know.” (247)

Soon after, the narrator asks the same question again as if he doesn’t fully believe the director and wants to confirm his answer. But this time, he expands on his question, asking about Bledsoe and Emerson as well. These were all people who seemed to have control over the narrator’s life before and who he heavily depended on. The passage continues:

Then I heard myself say, "Do you know him?" my voice rising.

"Who?"

"Mr. Norton," I said. "Mr. Norton!"

"Oh, why, no."

"No," I said, "no one knows anybody and it was too long a time ago."

He frowned and I laughed. "They picked poor Robin clean," I said. "Do you happen to know Bled?"

He looked at me, his head to one side. "Are these people friends of

yours?"

"Friends? Oh, yes," I said, "we're all good friends. Buddies from way back. But I don't suppose we get around in the same circles."

His eyes widened. "No," he said, "I don't suppose we do. However, good friends are valuable to have."

I felt light-headed and started to laugh and he seemed to waver again and I thought of asking him about Emerson, but now he was clearing his throat and indicating that he was finished. (248)

What I found interesting about this passage is that the narrator seems to experience for the first time that this “director,” this seemingly important person, doesn’t know the other “important” people that the narrator’s life seemed to revolve around before. This disconnection is especially highlighted when the director asks if these people are the narrator’s “friends” (at this point, Bledsoe is basically his enemy whom he wants to kill). The director really seems to have no clue who these people are. Previously, Bledsoe, Mr. Norton, and Emerson, these “big” people in the narrator’s life, all had connections to each other. How he acted around one seemed to define how the others would treat him as well, and they were all people who could easily decide his fate. Further, the narrator seemed extremely aware of this fact. But with this director, this pattern seemed to be suddenly broken.

It seems that in this passage, the narrator realizes that in life there are many different “circles” of people, even with those who hold more power. These individuals that seemed to define his life before are, in reality, merely people who although they feel really important, mean basically nothing. In other words, not only does the narrator not depend on these people anymore, his ties with them being basically completely cut, but he realizes that these people are really not that impactful or meaningful alone in the greater world. These people who he previously would have expected everyone to know and almost worship, such as at his college, were no longer relevant. This phenomenon is similar to how he sees New York: pretty “impersonal” and very individual-focused (168). So many people live around you and interact with you, but it feels hollow. They don’t really see you, meaning that your life is defined more by who you choose to be, not by the people surrounding you. And with this, as he leaves the director’s office, the narrator realizes he “was no longer afraid. Not of important men, not of trustees and such…” (249).

In this passage alone, we can also see how the narrator’s perspective on life has greatly developed. For example, at the time when he was with Mr. Norton, Mr. Norton was certainly not “just a man” to him, as he states in this passage. He probably wouldn’t even have dared to say that before. Like the vet at the Golden Day states earlier, the narrator saw him as basically “a God, a force” (95). This development in the narrator’s perspective certainly seems like an improvement.

Now, regarding these “important men,” the narrator thinks “for knowing now that there was nothing which I could expect from them, there was no reason to be afraid” (249). It seems that he expected all of these people highly regarded in society to know each other somehow and to “have some plan for [him]” (194). However, when he learns that this isn’t necessarily true and experiences something different for the first time, the world appears much larger than he previously saw it and he feels freedom from this fear of them. This quotation from the passage after the paint factory contrasts greatly with the passages with Mr. Norton and Dr. Bledsoe. The entire time, the narrator was absolutely terrified of what would happen to him at every second and how people would view him. Now, though, they as well as the narrator’s fear of them are invisible in his life. He realizes that the world and his destiny don’t surround them, and therefore his life and worries don’t have to either.

Readers continue to see this development when the narrator goes to Mary Rambo’s house. He feels more like a blank slate, forging his own identity, learning by himself, and no longer depending on what people define him as and tell him to do. He himself is trying to answer the questions of “who was I, how had I come to be?” (259).  His freedom from fear, in this new and more impersonal environment, allows him to focus more on himself and his life individually. Although he feels lost at the moment, he can define his own way without constantly living in fear of those in power who surround him. 

Following this point in the novel, it seems that the narrator is ready to discover who he is without as much fear and hesitation. Because we know that his identity ends up being an invisible man, perhaps his journey will not depend on how others like Dr. Bledsoe, Mr. Norton, Emerson, or this “director” perceive him any longer. Although probably not as expected or initially desired, it seems that the narrator still leaves with some new liberty after his time at the paint factory.

Ellison, Ralph. Invisible Man. Vintage Books, 1980.