In 1945, providing his agent with a rough sketch of his then nascent novel, Ralph Ellison said of its protagonist, “He is something very rare, a true Negro individualist.” Like his unnamed protagonist, Ellison was an individualist. Staunchly opposed to racial divisions, he endorsed integration, setting himself at odds with other black writers and leaders who championed separatism. He was proud of his race and heritage but unwilling to define himself primarily by it. Rather, he sought to affirm himself as an individual through his artistry - a formidable task given many whites’ refusal to acknowledge that blacks shared in their humanity.
Ellison hoped, though, to craft a novel of such force and scope that the white literary elite could not dismissively praise it as merely fine “Negro literature” but would acknowledge it as one equal to the most celebrated of the American canon. In 1952, with his first (and only finished) novel, the surrealist masterpiece Invisible Man, he did just that.
In his compelling and copiously researched biography, Ralph Ellison (Knopf 672), Arnold Rampersad reveals the complexities of Ellison’s mercurial character as he examines the author’s early influences, his development as a writer, his triumph with Invisible Man, and his vexation at his failure to complete a second novel.
Ellison was born on March 1, 1913, in Oklahoma City, to Lewis and Ida Ellison, and knew suffering early in life. When Ellison was three, his father, a coal and ice deliveryman, died of complications resulting from being pierced in the stomach with a shard of ice while delivering ice to a store. Struggling to sustain herself and her two sons (Ralph’s younger brother, Herbert, was born in 1916), Ida took on a host of menial jobs. Ellison grew to resent his mother’s generosity towards the destitute and rejected her Christian devotion. With little desire to spend much time with Ida or Herbert, Ellison endeared himself to the Slaughters and Randolphs, two wealthy families for whom Ida worked. His time with the families developed in him an affinity for sophistication.
After a failed move to Gary, Indiana (Ida had relatives there), the family returned to Oklahoma City. It was during his time at Douglas School, thanks to his music teacher, Zelia Breaux, that Ellison developed a love of music. She not only taught him music but also instilled in him a sense of what it was to be an artist. Ellison said, “It was Mrs. Breaux who introduced me to the basic discipline required of the artist, and it was she who made it possible for me to grasp the basic compatibility of the mixture of the classical and vernacular styles which were part of our musical culture.”
Article comments
1 - ILoz Zoc
That's an interesting comment about the swiftness of cultural change being a challenge to completing his work. I wonder how today's atmosphere of blogs and instantaneous thought to word publication would have affected such a challenge? One downside I can think of is the lessening of the thought end of it, which leads to less refinement of idea and technique, and more generic writing that replaces more complicated exposition. Snacks are easier to digest than a more elegant meal.
2 - Jason Middlekauff
"One downside I can think of is the lessening of the thought end of it, which leads to less refinement of idea and technique, and more generic writing that replaces more complicated exposition. Snacks are easier to digest than a more elegant meal."
I concur. Incidentally, your comment reminds me of one of Bradbury's central themes in Fahrenheit 451.
I think our culture's ever-growing reliance on instantaneous (and often dumb-downed) expression could affect a writers' abilities to hone their technique, but I think the effect is far more pervasive among reading public.