Symbolic Yams & Piggy Banks

In Chapters 13 & 14 of Invisible Man, we finally get to see a changed narrator, similar to the one from the prologue. His accident at Liberty Paints led him to undergo "treatment" from the factory doctors and he came out reborn to an extent. No longer does he feel afraid of all the rich. important white man that controlled his life. Although his transformation starts in Chapter 12, we don't really get to see the new version of him until the next chapter.

The next morning, the narrator walks the streets and notices a yam vendor. Instead of angrily masking his Southern roots as he previously did at the diner, he lets go to his emotions and engorges in his first yam. This is a very significant milestone in his life as he's finally unashamed of being something other than what people tell him to be. He further satisfied his homesickness with two more yams and at last we get to read a genuinely amiable conversation. The yams not only represent where the narrator grow up from but himself. This is a huge first step in the narrator new path. He further progresses into his new form when he spontaneously rallies a crowd to act against an unjustly eviction. Immediately afterwards he gets a job offer from Brother Jack to which he initially declines but ends up reconsidering.  

When the narrator wakes up the next morning he's further reminded of his debt to Mary. In his exasperation with an irritating noise, he notices, for the first time, a piggy bank in the form of a black man with bright red lips. Instantly he's enraged and, with some difficultly, destroys the offensive figure. His sudden outburst is in direct relation to his identity struggle. The statue represents a piece of White mockery and Black subservience that he was his whole life. The difficulty with the piggy bank also reflects the equally challenging task of eradicating his past self. What's really interesting, however, after several attempts he can't get rid of the pieces, which is also an obvious metaphor to his inability to fully detach himself with his previous spirit.

His progression is abruptly deterred by his involvement with the questionable Brotherhood. Although he feels he's finally in control of his life, his brothers are clearly dictating his actions.

The Validity of the Narrator's Recollection

In Invisible Man, the entire story is told from the perspective of an unnamed African-American narrator. It's appropriate since it's his life that we're entertained and intrigued with but the question of the accuracy of the events that are recalled rises up time and time again. I, like Jonah, can draw several significant comparisons to the cult film Fight Club. Has all or even any of it happened or is he just subconsciously making stuff up like his Fight Club counterpart? We learn in the prologue than he tried marijuana for his first and last time (so he says) but who's to know he hasn't decided to give it another chance? Or maybe he's even drunk at times when writing rigorously on his typewriter. We, as readers, don't know the answers to any of these questions which is why we are prey to the narrator's whim. That being said, there must be a solid basis of truth for everything he's telling, assuming that he's not completely insane or delusional of course.

For each event, all the background given appears to be legitimate. The narrator being invited to deliver his graduation speech to the town's elite whites is realistic but when he gets there, things become very surreal. The whole battle royal scene is really drawn out in a way that makes me skeptical of the narrator's ability to remember so vividly. Every second of the nightmarish fight is described with incredible detail, almost as if his past self is narrating. While the idea of white people of the 1940s having something like this for entertainment is in no way far-fetched, the circumstances of all the other fighters (with blindfolds on) ganging up on him is improbable.

Then there's the day out with Mr. Norton. Driving around one of the rich founders of his college for a summer job is pretty normal but it just doesn't seem rational that the narrator would inexplicably lose attention and end up at the familiar shacks home to the infamous Jim Trueblood. Prior to his realization he's really focused on driving and conversing with Norton so why would he suddenly veer off into a known red zone? To me, it seems like a plot device for the narrator to have to take Norton to the Golden Day where things get even more bizarre. Even before he enters the bar/brothel, we can tell things are going to get worse. A group of mentally unstable black veterans just happen to pick that same moment to visit the bar and consequently become the catalysts for the surreal action about to take place. The wild and frenzied atmosphere inside would definitely not have existed had the vets not been there. Again, the pace is slowed down noticeable into a dreamlike reality, leaving us readers confounded.

Obviously there are countless more examples but these just happened to be the first ones. Ellison purposefully incorporates them through interspersed intervals characterized by the all-too-familiar surrealism. Hopefully, as we delve deeper and deeper into the novel, we can get some long-waited insight into what's real and what's not.