The Community of Artists in Style Wars

I just finished watching Style Wars, and one thing that really stuck out to me was tightness of the community of the graffiti artists, as well as break-dancers. The movie starts with a scene of a huge group of artists all signing each other's books. That immediately struck me as interesting, because I had assumed that everyone did their "bombs" alone, and did not know any other artists in real life, only through their work. So from the very start I was impressed by the strength of the community of artists, but as the movie progressed I kept on realizing that they were tighter even than they seemed 10 minutes before.
One example of the bond held by graffiti artists, and one that I was truly not expecting, was the great age, race, and class differences among the artists. I had imagined that it would all be people about 18 or so, and all people in minorities who did not have much money. I remember that one kid even addressed my very assumptions, saying that while most people expect the people doing graffiti to be black or Hispanic and quite poor, but he, an upper class white guy, was just as much a part of the community. I was very surprised to see such racial mixing among groups of the graffiti artists, because it seems that a lot of the activities people do in their free time are segregated. Maybe this shows that if people were as free as the graffiti artists they would integrate more than we do in our structured environments. The other scene that really showed the bonds that formed between artists took place between a 16 year old and a 14 year old. They were talking about what a good artists the younger one was, but saying how the older one would draw the outlines and then his smaller friend would fill them in. I found it funny that, although he said that his 14 year old buddy was an amazing artists, the 16 year old still didn't trust him to do the whole piece. Then, later, we saw them talking again and the 16 year old asserted that in a few years, his pal would be the best artists ever. "A new Picasso." It is amazing to me that they had such a tight bond, and, despite the age gap, felt so close, that the 16 year old was looking into his friends future, and imagining how his skill would progress. They also talked about how they were always their to help each other, and always had each others backs. I thought that that was a very neat dynamic, especially between people who describe themselves as feeling like a father and son (at least in the older one's eyes). The 16 year old desire to protect the 14 year old was very interesting to me, especially because that is a very small age gap for a father son relationship, even though it is surprisingly big for a friendship. It seemed to me that the artists all had a mutual respect for each other, and that respect allowed them to bond with like-minded people from many different backgrounds and of many different ages. Seeing the friendships and community that the graffiti artists shared made me really want to do graffiti, not because the art itself looks like fun (although it does), but because I want to be in a community that is that close, and has each others backs to the extent that the artists had with their friends.

Beloved

This book is quite intense. After the first night of reading I felt like I had taken a long journey by the time I finished the thirty pages, but really I had only started. Every night I feel like I am wading through a thick river of sadness, troubles, and confusion, only making small and incoherent steps. That being said, I like the book. I am already understanding why this book has to be last on the syllabus. There is just a whole lot to digest and contemplate, and I believe I have only just barely touched the issues and questions this book will raise. The most enigmatic character so far is Beloved, so I will try and write my thoughts on her down, as jumbled as I'm sure they are.
Beloved seems very nice at first. She is a much-needed friend for Denver, and a sorta scarily devoted admirer of Sethe, but she appears to bring some happiness to 124, dancing with Denver and showing Sethe how to appreciate story-telling. From the start though, Beloved has been strange. with no back story, weird physical features, and (possibly) being Sethe's dead baby, she has always been an enigma. Now, she seemed to be getting along well with everybody, and even making Sethe feel wonderful by massaging her neck after saving her from choking, but there are doubts arising about Beloved's purity. She repeatedly shuns Denver and shouts at Denver for ordering her around. Beloved also constantly picks Sethe over Denver, ignoring and hurting Denver, who sees her as her first and only friend, in order to spend more time with Sethe. Sethe repays this time and care, telling stories and just being near Beloved. However, it seems that this isn't enough. There is some question of whether or not Beloved was the one choking Sethe. Denver thinks she was, and Sethe seems to begin to think that, but Beloved strongly denies it. Then, Beloved walks in on Sethe and Paul D being intimate, and appears to be very upset. Her animosity for Paul D grows beyond what it already was, and she becomes more surly towards Denver as well. Paul D seems to share this feeling of, if not hate, then at least wariness. I think the main question and worry that I have at this point is how far Beloved will go to solidify her relation to Sethe, and make sure no one else (like Denver or especially Paul D) get between her and Sethe. I think that it is pretty clear at this point that Beloved is Sethe's dead daughter, which explains her love and need for Sethe, but would she hurt her own sister for that? And why did she choke Sethe (if she did, and if she didn't then what or who did)? Like everything else in this book, Beloved leaves a trail of questions in her wake wherever she goes, and I can only hope to find out soon what will come of her and the rest of the residents of 124.

White Boy Shuffle

So after having finished White Boy Shuffle and had some time to think about it, I would like to use this post to just sorta set out my thoughts on the book, and just generally how I reacted to it.
I really liked White Boy Shuffle. It was very interesting, both in plot and in style, and never failed to grab my attention and emotion. I think that this book, more than any of the other ones that we read, made me think hard about my own life, and how things are right now. The issues brought up in White Boy Shuffle felt like they were much more relevant than those in previous books, particularly the minstrel dynamics which were revealed. Reading WBS has made me think a lot more about how I act and how I see others act than most books I have read. I think that there is still a lot more I can and should think about that this book has brought to light, and the issues and questions it asks can be pondered probably indefinitely. White Boy Shuffle made me think about white culture, if it exists, and how it relates to and interacts with black culture. It made me think about individuals, and how they are more complex than anyone other than themselves (and often not even themselves) realize. Both of those things are questions that do not really have answers. They are just things that you have to be aware of and think about all the time, but after reading White Boy Shuffle I am much more aware of them.
One thing that possible can be answered is the question of how it feels to be a star. Both Nick and Gunnar are idolized at points in the book, and neither of them really appreciate it. Nick goes so far as to purposefully do worse at what he is great at, and Gunnar runs away and takes of his clothes. Gunnar is also idolized to an extent for his basketball prowess, but it does not seem to effect him as much as Nick, probably because he seems to care more about poetry than about basketball, so it is more of a joke to him. That seems to be Gunnar's way of dealing with being idolized. He finds the humor in it and focuses on that to keep him sane. It is strange to read about people hating their fame, because we so often dream of fame, but it does make sense when you think about it, because they are having their personalities and humanity stripped away from them. No one sees them as people, merely as famous basketball players or famous poets.
The other question which is brought up is that of death and suicide and when/if suicide is a good choice. I do not want to try to answer this in any way on a blog, because I think it is something that has to be examined personally, but I do find the many different opinions on it interesting in the book, and very thought provoking. The idea that killing yourself is the best way to further your goals, and to support a movement or cause is relatively unfamiliar, but I think warrants at least a little thought, even if you totally disagree with it. I fail to understand to reasoning behind these suicides, but I think it is important that I try to. I think that sums up my experience with White Boy Shuffle pretty well: "I don't understand a lot of it but I can tell it is important that I do."
I would be very interested to hear about what other people have made of these questions, or especially any other questions you thought were raised by the book.

SOLHOT reactions

So I just got back from seeing SOLHOT perform. What I enjoyed most about this event was Truth's rapping (especially a very incredible freestyle that she did) and Cleva's rapping. Cleva (I have no idea how to spell that correctly) has an album, Golden, coming out on the 18th, and I have been inspired to buy that after hearing her perform. She had an amazing energy about her, and infused all of her songs with a lot of passion. It was very moving to hear her and Truth rap, because I could see how much effort had gone into what they were saying, and how much they cared about their songs. I was siting near a man who had produced Cleva's last song, and it was neat for me to see him nodding to the beat, mouthing the words, and sort of conducting the music with his hands as Cleva rapped, all while recording her performance. Through his actions, I could see how many people had put a lot of their time and effort to make these songs exist, and it made me feel honored to be hearing them.
One thing that really stuck with me was not a song, but something that Cleva said about her group. She explained that their motto is "everything is great", and that starting from that mindset really makes her a much happier person. She went on to tell us that her album is sort of about her going from a place where she could not even having so positive a mindset, to actually having it (although as she pointed out, attaining that happiness and positivity is an ongoing process). I just found it interesting to hear her take on the album, and to understand how it shaped and was shaped by her life. Sometimes I think of music as completely separate from an artist's life, but lately have been more and more aware that the music evolves with them, and I have begun to appreciate an artists works as part of their journey, as well as stand-alone pieces. The room where Cleva was performing was definitely a very happy and joyous place, and it was hard to imagine even the thought of being sad at points, and part of what made Cleva's songs so good was that through them she could make me picture sadness and see trouble, even though I was in a place so distant from it.
One thing that I found sort of funny about this whole event was that, at one point, we were asked to get up and dance to get more energy, and all I could muster was a little leaning from side to side, which struck me as very similar to the "white boy shuffle" that Gunnar just described in the book.
I am really glad that I went to this event, because it helped me view poetry and music in a much more personal way, and see all of the work that goes into a successful poem or song. It made rap much more accessible to me, because I was able to see that these amazing rappers were totally human as well.

My thoughts on Ethnic Notions and the subtle danger of neo-minstrelsy

So I was talking some about this to Kai this morning, but what I took out of this movie, and my own experiences and thoughts, is that minstrelsy is really a problem when people don't see it as an issue. I think it is not about saying "black people are dirty scum and lazy" or anything that explicit. The issue is that, for example, the cartoons can be funny. Bugs Bunny is a funny guy, and I can totally see myself enjoying that cartoon as a kid, and not seeing anything wrong with it at all. I cringe to think about it, but I do have memories (some painfully recent) of watching extremely racist minstrel things, and thoroughly enjoying watching some exaggeratedly grotesque black man shuck and jive across my computer screen, eating giant watermelons. I can completely see how if I was more exposed to those sorts of things, and was raised with minstrel cartoons as my main form of entertainment, it would alter how I saw real black people. I wouldn't necessarily explicitly think that all black people are horrible and savage for example, but when I saw a black person I think I would instinctively compare them to the racist propaganda I had been fed, and I would not be able to look at them without seeing that Sambo or Coon image superimposed on their own face.
The problem with minstrelsy, and the reason it is a problem still, is not because it is explicitly calling all black people savage or horrible or stupid--although it does that too (but far less nowadays)--but because it discolors (pun intended, sorry) my and other peoples views of black people. It is easy picture these propagandized minstrel images when you see a black person if you grew up in a household with "Black Americana" and those images in your mind will forever keep you from seeing black people as wholly human, and disconnect the real people from their grotesque fictional counterparts. I optimistically think that few people are outright racist. Actually no that is wrong, but at least the majority of people are not explicitly racist. However, the ideas popularized through minstrel icons shade the popular view of black people for the worse, and taint how they are perceived. The minstrel propaganda is subtle, and hard to identify in this day and age, but it effects our views of black people just the same, and is even harder to separate from reality because there are fewer clearly racist images like those we saw during the movie. There is just, for example, B.A. being inevitably surprised to be knocked out and flown around the world--although I must admit, by the middle of the second season he does begin to suspect something might be up--and his rage at awakening to discover he has been transferred to a new continent. His apparent eagerness to be violent may also tend towards minstrelsy at points. I do not know if his character as a whole is a minstrel (I think not) but there are definitely aspects of the character which reflect minstrel dynamics, and subtly effect consumers views of black people, especially if they live in a relatively sheltered community (like Uni) and are do not interact with actual black people to see that they are as human as everyone else, and not exactly the popular depictions that are seen.

Too Deep To Dumb Down

I want to address some of the things that I didn't have time to during my poetry reading. I think that we did cover a lot of the main ideas and themes , but there is just so much to say about this truly incredible poem.
I think we talked some about the height imagery that is present in this song, but I am just going to go through it and list all of the times I see it:

• dumb it down
• like a chicken or a deer (?)
• going over n****s head
• we don't care about the weather (?)
• distance from the earring to the ground
• stewardess in a Lear
• she's flying
• I feel I'm flying by em
• my mind's on cloud nine
• and in a mine
• Pimps see the wings
• on the Underground King
• to infinity and beyond
• flying on Pegasus
• flying on a pheasant
• get up out the hood
• best-fed F-F jet in the nest
• who exudes. . . . excess depth
• around these leagues
• chest-high and rising
• almost touching the knees of stewardess and the pilot
• lucky they make you fly with personal floating devices
• make it rain
• you make a boat
• I make a plane
• make it drain
• filling it up again

wow. So that was a lot. I admit I was sort of loose on my interpretation of height imagery (e.g. chickens because they can fly seems kinda iffy to me), but even given that I found it astounding how many height related terms Lupe could fit into one song. Also the contradictory meanings of height language is interesting--Lupe is good because he is deep but he doesn't want to dumb it down, and at the same time he is going over peoples heads. Lyrically flying above them while staying grounded. One more way depth sort of comes into this song is in the lines "the writer of the quotes for the ghosts/who supplier of the notes to the living". Height might not be immediately evident in this, but I take it to mean that he is writing quotes (lines) for ghosts (ghost writers) who supply the notes to the living (people actually getting credit for the work). Basically Lu is saying that sure we can look one step deeper than the surface to find the ghost writers, but he is ghost writing for the ghost writers, one step deeper still.
I think that by working all of this height imagery into his song, Lupe manages to further his argument that he will not dumb down his songs. His lyrics are so intricate that he can say seemingly off-topic things ("Pimps see the wings on the Underground King/who's also Klingon, to infinity and beyond"). It is possible to find meaning in these lines, such as Pimp C being a member of the Underground Kings and having wings on his logo, but it is hard to see what this has to do with the main idea of not dumbing it down. What Lupe is doing is using intricate but off-topic lines like this to prove that he isn't going to dumb down. Lupe could never mention not dumbing it down (and he doesn't that much, because he wrote the title and hooks after the verses) and yet his crazy lyrics argue for him, and back up his implied argument with their skill and intricacy.

Their Eyes Were Watching God?

I want to make a blog post just laying out my initial thoughts and reactions to Their Eyes Were Watching God, so this might be convoluted or confusing, but try to bear with me. I added a question mark to the end of my title because I thought that it looked kinda fun, but after reading the title again it strikes me as a less straight-forward statement than I had previously thought. This is to say, does the past tense refer to the fact that this is a story about the past, or is it because the characters had been watching god and then looked away? I have never given any thought to the Hurston's title before now, apart from being confused by it but assuming the meaning would become clear. Now, however, I am rather intrigued. What does this oh so intriguing phrase really mean?
So far, the first idea that pops into my head is that the God is Jody, and the townsfolk look to him for guidance. This seems totally wrong to me, but it is just the first thought I had. It seems unlikely to be Hurston's meaning. It could be that the citizens of Eatonville are looking ahead at something greater while they are living in less than ideal situations. It could refer to the fact that Janie seems much more preoccupied with nature than with the god that her grandmother and presumably the citizens of Eatonville worship. That interpretation plays of the use of "Their" in the title, which separates the narrator or perhaps protagonist from other people. It could be referring to Janie's apparent move away from the pursuit of an idealized love towards a more down to earth acceptance of her life, in that she used to be watching god (her bright vision for her future) but now has I guess looked town more to earth and is trying to deal more with reality.
So basically I am just staring at the title until some theory pops into my head, and so far I have talked about the words "were" and "their", so it seems fitting for me to move onto "eyes". What I think of when I specifically focus on the use of this word in the title is the fact that it isn't "hearts" or "souls". Eyes are a much more physical feature. While they may be the windows to the soul, they are more earthly than the soul. So when I see "eyes" I think that perhaps the people referred to are watching god only with their eyes and not with their souls or minds. The implications of this in my view are that they do not really believe in or trust god, but are watching him to protect themselves or something. As if they are watching god but intentionally trying to remain separate from him and follow a non-religious path. This interpretation seems flimsy to me, but the fact that eyes are specifically mentioned sort of sets the people away from god more than if it just said "they were watching god". This second version is also way less poetic, but it could be saying that the citizens of Eatonville or just people in general were watching but not following god. This is my theory about "watching" as well. It separates the people from god, and specifically does not imply a desire to act religiously. They are watching, not following. I guess I have already addressed the word "god", in that it may refer to Jody (unlikely) and it may refer to nature (perhaps a bit more likely).
I do not think that any of the theories I lay out in this post are accurate, but perhaps one or two are on the right path. I will be interested to re-read this post once we have finished reading and discussing Their Eyes Were Watching God and see what I think about the title then. Also I went on a tangent and did not really discuss my initial reactions to this novel. whoops. I think this was more interesting, but sorry about lying to you about the subject matter. I would be very interested to hear any other ideas about the title that anyone else has.

Responsibility

I have been thinking a lot lately about responsibility in Invisible Man. I am writing my response paper on this topic, and figured I would try to lay out my thoughts in a blog post first. I noticed that the phrases "social responsibility" and "personal responsibility" are both uttered by the narrator in the novel, and both times the concept is met with derision.
First, the narrator says it during his speech after the battle royal, and is made to repeat it often, until he accidentally says "social equality", and frightens everyone. The rich old white guys who are "listening" to the narrator all laugh at his idea of there people having a social responsibility. Later, after Todd Clifton's funeral, the narrator tells the Jack and other Brothers that he felt it was his personal responsibility to perform the funeral. He is once again scoffed at and must repeat the phrase. This no doubt influenced his departure from the Brotherhood, but it also shows how the Brotherhood views responsibility. The Brotherhood clearly thinks that personal responsibility is not a real thing, they feel responsible only to their own ideals and the people who share them.
I think that people's reactions to the idea of social or personal responsibility display that the few people feel a connection or a responsibility for society as a whole, or for people who do not share their ideals. They only care about the groups that they are a part of, and the specific ideals that they have chosen to hold. It seems to me that most people are blind to the ideals of others, and to the feelings or reality of groups other than their own. I would even go so far as to say that the groups--be they political, economic, or racial--are invisible.
I want to explore this invisibility and how it presents itself in Invisible Man. I think that it is safe to say the Ras's followers/ideals are failed to be seen by the Brotherhood, and Ras fails to understand the true ideals and workings of the Brotherhood. This is also evident during the eviction at which the narrator makes his debut as a Harlem leader. The people who are being evicted, and the crowd that forms around them, do not care about the forces that move the people who are evicting them. If both groups had been able to see the other, the outcome of the situation may have been much more positive.
Also, it is not in the book, but in the Documentary we watched, I think the narrator says something like it is his social responsibility to write the book, during the prologue-scene. I checked and I don't think he says that in the actual book, but I found it interesting that they added it in the movie.

Invisibility and Blindness and the narrators perception of them

When I wrote the prompt in class the other day about how the narrator changed between the beginning and end of Invisible Man, I started thinking a lot about his perceptions of invisibility and blindness. Throughout his story, it is clear that his perception of the world is changing monumentally, and I think that by contemplating and writing about how he changed, he changed even more.

In chapter one, and in much of the book for that matter, the narrator has no conception of invisibility or blindness. For a while, his only thoughts are that to be with the Brotherhood is to be visible, and everyone who isn't is invisible (like Todd Clifton). Members of the Brotherhood also consider everyone else blind because they lack the scientific view the Brothers take. I am not sure if the narrator completely believes this, but he seems to go along with it. While in the Brotherhood, however, the narrator is invisible (goes by a false name, is seen as "leader", etc.) as well as blind (only sees masses, is blinded by spotlight, etc.). Only when the narrator finally breaks with the Brotherhood and retreats to his brightly lit hole does he become fully aware of his invisibility. At this point though, he does not fully understand the extent to which everyone is invisible, and to which he himself is and has been blind. By the end of the novel, the narrator seems to realize that he has not really seen anyone else. This is obvious to readers, because none of the others characters are even remotely well-developed. And because the narrator is writing the book, it is likely that he notices this as well. After the narrator has reflected on his life by writing about it, I think he realizes that the man he talks about beating up in the prologue was just as invisible to the narrator as the narrator was to him. This is just one example of the narrator's blindness, as well as the invisibility of everyone else. As the narrator says in the prologue, the invisibility is caused by the blindness of others. Once the narrator become aware of how blind he has been, he becomes more determined to go out into the world and stop being blind. He sees that the 1,369 lights in his basement may have been just as blinding as the stage lights, at least until has started using them to write a book.

When the narrator begins the prologue, he knows that he has been bind to his own invisibility for most of his life. By the time he finishes the book, he discovers that he has also been blind to every one else, and thereby causing them to be invisible as well. He sees that his blindness has only been perpetuating his in other people's invisibility, and seems determined to come out of his cave and try to change that. Or perhaps not. But at the very least his is aware that he is blind as well as invisible, and he only found that out by undergoing thorough meditation on his life in the form of an autobiography. 

It has been a theme throughout the book for the narrator's name to be hidden from the reader. We never know what it is (or at least not so far). Before the last few chapters, it was at least semi-believable that we might not know the narrator's name. It may have just never come up. But starting from the hospital/lab scene, the author has clearly gone out of his way to avoid telling us the narrator's name. In the hospital, the narrator is asked what his name is, and he never answers. He himself does not know it. Later, someone in the office asks the narrator what his name is, but right before he can reply, the office worker finds the name on some hidden piece of paper, and we remain ignorant of it. When the narrator is given a new name, he is not told it, but rather handed it on a piece of paper that we the readers, once again, cannot see. This all seems exceedingly deliberate on the part of Ellison.

At first, I just figured that we did not know his name, because he is invisible. Fair enough. It represents the narrator's invisibility in his world. But just as I was beginning this post, it struck me that everyone in his world knows his name, and yet we are blind to it. The readers are just as blind, if not more so, than the characters in the book. I probably realized this a while ago, but it only now surfaced in my mind at a conscious level. (Level is a really level word, that's pretty cool). But back to the matter at hand. The narrator is incredibly invisible to the readers as well as everyone else. This seems strange, because we have spent so many days in class talking about the narrator, I feel like I know him well. I think that Ellison is hiding his name to remind us readers that we don't know the narrator as much as we would like to think we do. By with holding the narrator's name from us, Ellison is hinting that the narrator is invisible to us as well, and that no matter how much we discuss and interpret and debate who the narrator is, none of us really know him. He is a person too (debate-ably) and is just as invisible to us as anyone he interacts with. We only see him through our perceptions of how we expect him to be. I know that I am making assumptions about him based on his early actions, the genre of book, and how I am used to other fictional characters' being and acting. I will try to my ignorance in mind in future class discussions, and I think that it is important that everyone else does as well. Sure, we have to assume things about him, we must make guesses and form opinions and theories based on what we believe, but it is important to remember that what we believe about the narrator and his feelings may be wrong. I think Ellison is trying to show his readers that, and I think that that is very wise of him.

Note that I gave this post no title. I did that because I was going to name it invisibility or some such nonsense, but I figured that making the title itself invisible would be cooler.

Symbolism in Chapter 15

I found chapter 15 exceedingly interesting, not because there was a lot of action or dialogue, but because the the symbolism which is evident in this chapter. I am sure that there is more allegory and whatnot in other chapters, but I found that which was in this one particularly intriguing. I feel like every single thing that occurs could be taken in a metaphorical sense, because so much of it seems unnecessary to the plot. from the knocking on the pipe in the beginning, to the smashing of the bank, and then the narrators inability to get rid of the bank, this chapter is rife with deeper meaning. I am not really sure what any of it means, and some it it may just be there to mess with readers, but I will give it a shot.
I think that the banging on the pipe probably has a lot of deep meaning, but what struck me about it was the disharmony of the community. The people are all getting mad at Mary for the lack of heat, and then at each other for the noise, but they only confound the problems by banging the pipe (other than the fact that their body temperatures probably go up some). What I found important is that there is a total lack of cooperation, or of the desire to understand anyone else. Everyone there just assumes the worst of the other people, and immediately starts banging the pipe to prove their point, or to ask for more heat, when it obviously won't help. Later though, after the narrator stops banging the pipe, the knocking goes beyond a protest for heat, and turns into a "ragged rumba rhythm". I am not sure what exactly that signifies, but it is undoubtedly important. Perhaps it means that disharmony can be harmonious, or harmony can be achieved through disharmony, or just the the narrator is causing the disharmony, or at least perceiving it. I welcome any other takes on this matter gladly.
The other symbol I found intriguing was the bank. A small, racially exaggerated, figure which contains many coins. The narrator uses it to bang on the pipe, but than it breaks apart and pieces and coins are strewn about his room. He has a need to hide all of it, but cannot find anywhere in the room to do so. This could represent the inability of anger to solve problems, or the narrators hatred for racism, or something altogether different. Probably all of these. My favorite part of the chapter was when the narrator was walking in the street, and repeatedly tried to get rid of the broken bank, and was repeatedly unsuccessful. The manner in which he was unsuccessful was for sure meaningful, but I am not sure exactly in what way. I think that the overall inability of the narrator to let go of the bank represents his inability to let go of his anger, and to let go of this thing which attaches him to his past. He also cannot get rid of the racial prejudices. I was really intrigued by this scene, and would love if anyone else could enlighten me with their takes on it.
One other thing that I would add is that at the end of the chapter, the narrator has a similar feeling as the end of the first chapter, when he is forgetting about the bad stuff he just did and looking blindly ahead to college, and the chapter where he ignores what the vet tells him and focuses on going to NY. At the end of chapter 15, he forgets about the broken bank and what it means, and focuses ahead on the night's rally.

Ohm and Beat Boxing

While we did cover many things in class on Friday, there are quite a few aspects of the poem Ohm that I still would like to delve into. We touched on the parallels between "ohm" and beat boxing some in class, but I think that there is still more to say about it. I mentioned how it seems to me that Saul Williams was drawing a connection between "ohm", the essential sound of the universe, and beat boxing, or just rhythm in general. I think that there are a multitude of lines in the poem to back up my interpretation of this. For example, the first lines in the poem are "through meditation I program my heart/to beat break beats and hum bass lines on exhalation/ [beat boxing] ohm." Programming your heart to beat break beats is likening the beating of your heart, the most essential rhythm of your life, to other rhythms which are found in music. Humming bass lines on exhalation is a reference to "ohm", which is supposedly the sound of exhaled breath. Comparing thins to a bass line is, again, a reference Saul Williams opinion that rhythms in music are, like "ohm", the most essential sounds of life. Beat boxes and "ohm" are both repeated quite often throughout the poem. This is because they are repeated so often in our lives, and in life itself. Just as Williams was comparing musical beats to the beating of our hearts, something that is always there, and that keeps us alive, and signifies life, this repetition signifies the infinite quality of both the "ohm" sound, and that of beat boxing. At points, it even seems like he is incorporating the word "ohm" into the beat boxes. At another point in the poem, Williams claims that "the universe remains our center, like ohm [beat boxing] ohm." He is saying that both the sound "ohm", and the rhythms of beat boxing are our centers, and are at the center of the universe. The last lines of the poem further back up the supposition that beat boxing is, like "ohm", the essential sound of the universe. At the end of the poem, Williams says "and out of darkness comes a [beat box] ohm." This can be interpreted to mean that, when there is nothing (darkness signifying nothingness), there is still these primal and everlasting sounds of beat boxing and "ohm". This would mean that beat boxing imbues everything, including nothingness, and is therefore the bass line of the universe. Another thought that I had about this line, which does not as much support my thesis, is that the darkness could be representative of Williams skin color rather than nothingness. If this is the case, then it would be saying that beat boxing is more essential to black people, as opposed to everything. I think that perhaps Williams means both of these things, paradoxically, at the same time.

Ohm Link

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJHquOEChRg

This is the link to Saul Williams performing his poem, which I read in class today (Friday). In his slam version, he adds part of  different poem to the beginning, but the one I did starts pretty soon. Below is him singing it as a rap if you are interested in that as well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rR58GsgFMcY

I plan on writing more on this poem soon so if anyone is interested we can carry on our discussion in the blog format.

Confusion and Uncertainty

During a panel presentation today, the question was brought up of whether Don DeLillo convinced readers of his plot, or if we believe his story. I do not think that The theory DeLillo is the definitive answer to what led to the JFK assassination, but I do think that DeLillo was very successful in what he was trying to get across with Libra. This is that the events in question can never be fully understood. There will never be one story whose truth everyone agrees upon, that answers all of the questions brought up by the information known about the assassination. DeLillo has completely convinced me that JFK's assassination can never be understood without doubt.

The most striking aspect of Libra in my opinion was Raymo. Not him as a character, but the fact that he existed in the first place. I am not saying that I think that someone named Raymo shot JFK from the grassy embankment, but it is very plausible that someone very similar to him did (maybe not named Raymo). We have a lot of facts about this assassination, but no one has ever found out if "Raymo" ever existed. Just as Raymo did in the story, Raymo's factual counterpart may well have shot Kennedy and then completely dropped out of history. Some random schoolteacher in Wyoming have have been Raymo.

This is one level of possibilities that we don't know which DeLillo reveals, but he goes further. Branch, who knows way more than anyone now (other than the CSI, if someone like Branch actually exists), and even buried in facts as he is, he still does not understand what exactly led to the assassination. Sure, he tells a convincing story, but there are some very flimsy parts. This has been discussed in class multiple times. The fact that there are other forces not understood by anyone who's point of view DeLillo shows. These may be random coincidences, as Ferrie suggests, but they may also be a bigger conspiracy of which Branch is unaware. This seems very likely to me, given that Ferrie's coincidence theory has been proven wrong before. He sees Lee's entry into Bannister's office as pure coincidence, when really Lee was told to go there by a government agent who wants him to be an informant. It seems to me that similar explanations could be possible for the other events which Ferrie considers pure coincidence. Branch too does not know everything. Or if he does, he is not telling us about it (because he is part of a conspiracy?). For example, he gives no explanation for why JFK takes the route through Dallas that he does, passing under Lee's window conveniently during his lunch break. Is this a coincidence, or are the people in the government who want Lee to shoot JFK? It is never shown whether this and other things are coincidences or parts of an even bigger plot, but that does not matter. What is being shown is that we cannot know. Even Branch, who is figuratively drowning in information, does not know everything about Lee's life, and why he shot JFK. This is a whole new level to which DeLillo takes the doubt.

First of all, readers cannot be sure of whether someone like Raymo exists, for example. That is a very big question that may never be answered. Secondly, even the supposedly all-knowing fictional character in DeLillo's fictional novel does not know what is going on. DeLillo could have made up facts and explanations for Branch to tell us, but he doesn't. He gives Branch doubt. This just takes the doubt one step higher, beyond even the doubts that normal people might have. Since our uncertainty has already been elevated to unprecedented heights, it seems likely to me that there are completely new things to bring doubt into the JFK assassination that I cannot even imagine. I think that new levels of uncertainty will be uncovered for as long as people are investigating this event. The more someone finds out, the more they will see that they cannot know. I think that DeLillo is implying through his use of Raymo and Branch is that this will never end. Even if the JFK assassination was researched until infinity, a definitive explanation would never be found.

Jack

We have been discussion Lee quite a bit in class, but I find Jack Ruby just as intriguing a character, if not more so. He is surprisingly enigmatic, and it is very difficult to pinpoint his motives in shooting Lee. Actually, that is not completely true. It is clear that Jack finds Lee an utterly despicable character, and just wants him to be done with and gone forever. I can definitely see why Jack would be so sickened by Lee, after hearing about how he shot the police officer after shooting Kennedy. There is definitely patriotism at play when Jack decides to shoot Lee, but his mob ties also come into play. Clearly he is being offered considerable compensation by the mob if he shoots Lee, and that seems to convince him to shoot Lee. However, in an enigmatic maneuver of incredible proportions, Jack tips of the police of his plan to shoot Lee, only minutes after he made that plan. This to me is one of the more riddling events that occurs throughout the whole of Libra. One reason that I can think of for Jack Ruby to alert the police is that he is very unsure of his decision to shoot Lee. This is seen later on, when he "lets fate decide" whether he will kill Lee. Jack tells himself that he will casually go to assassinate Lee, and if he gets there on time, it will be proof that the universe wants him to do it, and if he is too late, it will be proof that the universe wishes Lee to remain alive. This is a very similar tactic to what Lee has been doing throughout the novel, trying to put his fate in someone else's hands. Someone bigger, like a conspiracy, the KGB, or ideally the universe and fate itself. Jack displays a similar trait in his decision to shoot Lee. He leaves his final decision up to the "traffic gods" so to speak. I think that when he calls the police to tip them off about the attempt to kill Lee, he is doing the same thing. Jack is unsure of whether or not he should kill Lee, and so he leaves it up to fate. But he wants fate to have an even playing field, and so he warns the police. Jack does not want to be able to kill Lee without a problem, because then he will not know if he did the right thing. But if he succeeds when it is difficult, it seems to show that him shooting Lee was meant to happen. It is hard for me to say whether or not this is really Jack's motive in calling the cops on himself, but it seems to be a probable one, and the only probable one I can think of given the fact that he does go through and kill Lee despite seeming to go back on his plan, and turn against the mafia.

Lee

After our discussion in class, I thought that I would write a bit about my feelings about Lee as a character, because they are very jumbled. Throughout the book, I have been sort of off put by Lee. I have felt bad for him, because he has wanted to fit in and to be a part of history so badly, but has failed every time. I felt this very strongly when he went to Russia, and kept on mentioning how he knew Stalin's real name, and he knew the Russian words for this and that. It seemed to me like he was trying to prove to himself that he was meant to be in Russia, and that he would fit in. He obviously did not fit in or thrive in Russia, but for a while he told himself that he would. I found that aspect of Lee's character very sad, and it made me pity him, and like him a little more. The same is true more recently, with the shooting of JFK. Lee has been telling himself that this is what he is meant to do, and this is how he will join history. He repeats to himself the many coincidences pointing to his and JFK being connected, as if trying to convince himself that they are. And then when he finally does shoot JFK, his projection of reality turns out to be completely fictional. What Lee sees as the culminating point in his life is sort of a let down. He misses his shots, shoots the governor, who he says would probably like him, and then finally learns that he has been set up. I can just see his perception of the world crashing down around him, and I am moved by that. I am also impressed by how calm he stays given what he has just discovered. Not only has he shot two people, but he has uncovered this plot of which he is an unknowing participant. And yet he stays relatively calm. He doesn't shoot the first cop he sees, he goes home, and he walks to the theater. He realizes he has not options other to go along with the plotters, and they are planning to kill him heartlessly in the dark. He is feeling so many emotions, as he always is, and that is for me moving and makes me like him. He has put so much meaning on the Kennedy assassination for him personally, and Raymo, who does kill Kennedy, sees it as a necessity, but not very meaningful. I find it sad that Lee attaches so many emotions to so much, and is played by people who show very few emotions. This makes me connect to Lee more, and like him more as a character, despite his attempted assassination of the president.

Butler's straightforward style

So a few days ago, Dezy made a blog post about this same topic, and it intrigued me. I commented on it then, but would like to touch again on it here. I am planning on writing a response paper about this very topic, and think that a blog post will help me get all my ideas out there, and develop them further.
To begin with, I will specify what I mean by Butler's "straightforward" style. This refers to the way in which she writes the plot in a very clear manner, where few readers would be confused burrito as to what was happening, unlike say Reed's Mumbo Jumbo. The straightforward style also refers to the way in which Butler makes her points about the antebellum south, 1976, and the world in general. She does this very clearly, almost (and in some cases literally) stating that "In the slavery era, even when they were not being beaten, slaves were undergoing incredible hardships. In 1976, the prejudices clearly known during the slavery era are still around much more than many people would like to admit. And deeply studying the past will affect you as a person, if not physically (although maybe, from lack of sleep or something), then at least mentally, in that you will look at the world very differently." Side note: Are we all slaves to our perceptions of the world? Okay back to the subject at hand. So Butler clearly lays out her plot and her point, which differs drastically in both respects from what I have gotten used to in this class.
Plot-wise, the clearness of Butler's writing is very helpful. However, one downside to having an easily understandable plot is that it makes the reader focus more on the plot than other aspects of the book, such as the points Butler is trying to make. She pities the reader and so lays out her points very clearly as well. I would argue that this is a problem, because she does not let the reader use his or her own judgement in deciding what to take from the story told. I am less likely to trust Butler's judgement on any subject of opinion than my own, and so her clearly telling what the point of the story is makes me take that point less seriously. I can try to ignore that point and use my own unclouded judgement, but the problem is that my judgement has already been clouded, and so I don't know if I can trust even it. In the end, I must, but her decisiveness still plants the seeds of doubt in my mind. Vonnegut I believe does a very good job of letting the reader use his or her own judgement on the topics explored, or at least he influences readers in a much more subtle manner. At the beginning, his character of himself does state something along the lines of "I have told my children to strictly avoid massacres." However, this is told as a person opinion, whereas in Butler's case I feel as if she is telling all of her readers how they should feel about slavery, and I do not wish to become any sort of slave to her views of the world, even if they do seem to coincide with mine.
My overall take of Butler's style in Kindred is that she writes a clear plot, which is nice, but this leads to her also clearly telling her points (or perhaps she writes a clear plot so she can clearly state her points through clearly defined characters such as Dana, who is written in a very flattering light). Because Butler makes her points so clearly, it undermines my acceptance of them.
If anyone thought of different points that Butler was trying to make, please let me know! Also I apologize for the burrito, I just thought it would be fun to add one in the middle of my post.

Dana's acceptance of Slavery and Rufus

On Dana's last couple of trips to the past, it seems like she begins to forget that she is from the 20th century. She feels like she is coming home when she sees the Weylin house. This feeling of complacency and belonging upsets her, because she does not want to be comfortable in such a racist and unequal time. The scary thing about her journey is that she is repeatedly lulled into a sense of safety and well-being, only to be dragged out violently by some horrible thing, such as the selling of Tess or Sam. She has a similar relationship with Rufus, in that up until the very end, every time she gets mad at him she forgives him, and forgets how cruelly he can act. She is sadly amazed when he doesn't send her letters to Kevin, and equally surprised when he pulls a gun on her when Kevin returns. Even as Rufus grows up, Dana sill wants to see him as a small, innocent child, who she still can hope will grow up o be reasonable, accepting, and kind to people of all races. What makes it hard for her o adjust to his growing up spoiled and cruel at a whim is that for her only a tiny time has passed between his two ages, while many years have passed for him.
When she doesn't have Kevin there to remind her that she is acting, Dana seems to become more of a slave, even if only in her opinion. If she had been to fully accept being a slave, then and only then would she have become one. However, Dana forces herself out of this complacency and slavery two times, once by cutting her wrists, and the other when she kills Rufus. I believe that if she had not done those, she would have truly become a slave, and become stuck in that state, with little or no hope of escaping. If she had let Rufus rape her, she would have been a slave both in the loss of her physical freedom, but also she would have been a slave to her fear for the outcomes of the other slaves once Rufus was dead. It can be argued that it is good to be a slave to the well being of others, but that is being a slave nonetheless, and that is something that Dana refuses to become.
Just as Dana is lulled into acceptance of her slave status up until the point that she suddenly and violently stops herself, she is drawn into an acceptance of Rufus and all of his flaws, merely because he has a few good traits, such as letting her teach literacy to people, and having bathed for her before he tries o rape her. As with her slavery, Dana violently and suddenly removes herself from this acceptance of Rufus, just as she is beginning to totally accept him. I would note that Alice has the same reaction, but she kills herself instead of Rufus when she finds she is beginning to be okay with him.

Implications of Prayer in Slaughterhouse-Five

I decided to look more deeply into the Kilgore Trout novels within Slaughterhouse-Five. The one which particularly piqued my interest was The Big Board. It is about two earthlings who are abducted by aliens and taken to a zoo on the platen Zircon-212. There, they are told that the aliens have invested a million dollars in stocks, and it is up to them to manage this so that they can be rich when they are returned to earth. The have a big board in their enclosure with which to view the stock market changes. Of course, all of it is fake, contrived by the aliens to make the humans show intense emotions for viewers of the zoo. To me, there is an insane amount of important and interesting ways to look at this novel and its implications. I am writing my response paper on some of them. 

However, religion also comes into play in The Big Board, and in an intriguing way, although I'm not sure how to work it into my paper. So I will discuss it here. At one point, the aliens tell their human captives that the President of the US has declared it National Prayer Week, and asked everyone to pray. The week before, the humans had lost a small fortune in olive oil stocks. "So they gave praying a whirl. It worked. Olive oil went up." Now at first, as I was reading this, I took the claim that the prayer worked to be Vonnegut's dry, sarcastic, irony. But the fact that the aliens control the stocks does not mean that a hypothetical God did not make them raise olive oil in response to the human prayers. The fact that the aliens are in total control does not disprove God, and the power of prayer. In a less religious sense, the prayer most definitely made the stock prices go up. This is due to the fact that the aliens told the humans about "Prayer Week" so that they would pray, and thereby entertain the audience. When the humans do pray, the aliens reward them by raising the stocks. This is done merely to manipulate the captives emotions, but despite that the prayer did without a doubt work. I think that the fact that prayer can work in such a tangible sense, even in the absence of a God, quite interesting and thought-provoking. Another question brought up is that of whether or not the aliens are gods to the humans. They certainly seem godlike. Controlling everything in the environment, knowing everything about the humans, and even answering prayers. Now I am unaware of all of the implications if the aliens are gods, but it does seem to reveal a lot and lead to a lot of questions about the possible nature of deity a religion. If the humans began worshiping the aliens, would their stocks go up? I think so. How similar is the situation on Zircon-212 like our own? Is what entertains and affects us as superficial as that which decides all of the emotions of the humans on Zircon-212? If anyone has any thoughts about these question I would much appreciate hearing them.

Circularity of time in Slaughterhouse Five

Today in class we discussed in what ways Slaughterhouse Five was a cyclical novel, and in which ways it followed different sorts of timelines. While I would not say that the book itself flows in a fully circular manner, there are many instances in which the circularity of time is alluded to.
Take the Yon Yonson song for example. This is a very explicit case of Kurt Vonnegut mentioning how his life seems to follow a distinct cycle. The simple, flowing repetition of the Yon Yonson song is very similar to that of a common look at cyclical time. Repetition in general references cyclical time, and there are many instances of repetition in this novel. The phrase "so it goes" is repeated very frequently. Nestling like spoons, crying, and being juggled by Magic Fingers are all often mentioned as well. Billy Pilgrim himself alludes to times circularity in the ending of his speech, in which he says "Farewell, hello, farewell, hello." The circularity of this is exaggerated by the fact that Pilgrim repeats this exact phrase at the end of every one of his speeches. Billy's whole life is very circular, in that the repeats parts of his life in Tralfamadore, then in Earth, then in Tralfamadore, etc. The most explicit instances in which Billy travels cyclically through time are when he relives an exact moment, and when he goes from his death to his birth.
I do not think that Vonnegut wants to display time as completely cyclical, but I do think that he is trying to reveal the many ways in which it does follow cyclical patterns. He shows time to be a combination of both cyclical and linear time.

Time and Free Will

Kurt Vonnegut bring up many interesting observations about time in Slaughterhouse Five. The Tralmafadorian sense of time is a very interesting one, which is hard for us Earthlings to wrap our minds around. The same goes for Billy Pilgrim's ability to travel in time. Both of these beg the question of the existence of free will, because if either is true it would seem that free will is impossible. This is obvious in the Tralfamadorian view because they can see all that has happened and all that will happen, and so all of that must happen, and cannot be changed.
For Billy, however, free will or the lack thereof takes a slightly different form. He knows how he dies, because he has experienced it before, but he cannot see his whole life laid out in front of him, and so when he shelters in slaughterhouse five during the firebombing of Dresden, he does so for the first time, even though he already has memories of doing so. He knows that he will survive because he knows how he dies many years later, but he only knows how he survives and what he does thereafter form his memories when he is an older man. Of course he has already lived some of what happens afterward, but some will be new to him. It would seem that if he remembers something happening to him when he is old, then it must happen when he is young, and so there is not free will. However, his memories might be wrong or fading. So, while there cannot be free will because he is stuck forever dying in the same way and crashing in the same plane, he does not know precisely how he will get to those points. Because of this his view of the world differs from the Tralfamadorians, and he retains at least a slight sense that there may be free will.
The lack of free will brings up many new problems pertaining to how someone with no free will should live their life. Of course they are stuck as to how to act, but are their thoughts also set in amber. I would say yes, but that knowledge of there not being free will will surely affect their thinking, and will have been preset to do so. What would be the point of thinking about what to do if it is already going to happen? What would be the point of trying to change anything? Of caring? Billy is very affected by all of these questions, and so lives his life as if in a dream, mechanically moving from action to action, not very aware of the world around him. He tries to be friendly because, since nothing can change, there is not point in being mean. His personality is obviously affected by his time-travel and by his apparent knowledge about time and free will, but that does not prove or disprove the existence of time-travel or of this view of time, because he acts as he does due to his views, and not necessarily because he has time-traveled. His thinking he has traveled through time and space would alter his personality in the same way as if he had actually done these things. This brings to question if his thinking he has done them has, in some sense, and on some weird plane of being, made them happen.

LaBas' View

    Today in class, we were talking about how Mumbo Jumbo is like a detective novel, with Papa LaBas being the detective. It becomes confusing as to who the bad guy is, because Hinckle seems to be a likely choice, but his end is surprisingly anticlimactic. Another possibile villain is Atonism. I would argue, however, that LaBas is not fighting Atonism. It seems to me that LaBas sees all subcultures (eg. Atonism, Haitian religion, etc.) as merely parts of one huge culture that is the sum of everything. He tries to emulate this "all-culture" through the Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral, combining all of the mystical beliefs that he can find. This also leads me to believe that LaBas is very tolerant of all religious views, and so would not want to harm Atonism. In stopping Hinckle, he is merely acting out of defense for cultures, but he does not try to harm Atonism. I would go so far as to claim that if Atonism was in danger, LaBas would work to keep it alive.
    Obviously, Atonism does not was LaBas and any of the religions he sponsors to survive. I think that is the key difference between Ancient African beliefs and Atonistic Western ones in Mumbo Jumbo: the Africans believe in tolerance and the Atonists in intolerance. LaBas, who represents African religious beliefs, is very tolerant in the book. When he wants something to change, he does not push against what is currently happening (as the Atonists do) but he gently directs things and events towards what he wants, without disturbing much. Throughout this all he remains calm. These characteristics are displayed clearly in the epilogue. LaBas is completely content to have students walk out on him, tolerant of their wishes and views of disinterest. Even when some guy starts yelling at him and being obnoxious and whatnot, LaBas just calmly nudges him away with his car, without getting all worked up about it. All of these things are the exact opposite of how the Atonists would react. Interestingly, although LaBas is the protagonist (I think maybe) of Reed's novel, Reed seems to view tolerance with derision. He wants abrupt social change, and fights for it. I'm not sure what exactly to make of this, so if anyone has any thoughts they would be very welcome.

Tateh, Houdini, and Doctorow's relationships with them

While we were reading Ragtime, I did not realize the extent to which Tateh parallels Houdini throughout the novel. Houdini and Tateh have many parallels, many of which are very obvious, such as them both being immigrants who manage to greatly improve their living situations. I was really struck with one more very important connection between them during the panel presentations, when thinking about how Houdini interacts with the miner who survived (escaped) a disaster. It struck me that Tateh underwent a very similar situation in the aftermath of the strike. After the strikers and their parents had been attacked, everything was in chaos, and everyone was injured or dead. Despite all of this, Tateh managed to barely escape onto the train with his daughter, and was the only person to manage this. In that one scene, Tateh manages to do what Houdini yearns for, which is to make an escape that matters.
Towards the end of the novel, Doctorow writes about Houdini with growing irony, which I believe is in response to Houdini's self-perception in which nothing he does really matters. He seems plagued by self-doubt, continuously pushing his limits further and further in an attempt to do something that he sees as meaningful. Meanwhile, Tateh has managed to escape unscathed (or at least without any lasting scars) from many a stifling situation. He repeatedly just up and leaves his residence and goes somewhere new, leaving his fate to fate, if you will. By doing this, Tateh manages to perform the truly meaningful escapes that Houdini strives for, and he does so without any conscious desire to do so. Tateh obviously wants to have his life improve, but I do not get the impression that he worries about his struggles overly much. And that lack of worry may be why he succeeds where Houdini fails. Both in that Tateh manages to escape (his self-doubt, despair, and worry) and that he is left untouched by Doctorow's biting irony. I might be merely projecting my own thoughts onto Doctorow, but I think that he allows Tateh to flourish because Tateh does not worry about not flourishing.

Coalhouse: Why he does what he does

Coalhouse Walker Junior is a very intriguing character in Ragtime. It is hard to tell what he is thinking throughout the whole car fiasco, but I have tried to deduce at least the more general thoughts behind what he does. To start with, I do not believe for one second that Coalhouse really cares that much about his car. He is using the Model T merely as a means to open the nations eyes to the stupidity of racism. Everything that he does following his being halted by the firemen, he does to bring about social change.
In the very beginning of this series of disastrous events, when he goes to the police, it seems as if he is acting as if the civil rights movement has already occurred, and he seriously expects their help. However, he does not seem surprised in the slightest when he does not receive assistance. This leads me to believe that Coalhouse is fully aware of the racial situation at the time. Therefore, perhaps he is attempting to bring about civil rights by acting as if they are already there. That is an interesting strategy for social change, but, in Coalhouse's case, does not prove effective. He soon turns to more drastic measures. I think that Coalhouse realizes that his country is not going to change its racist ways, and so he turns against it.
Coalhouse reminds me of Martin Luther, because they both say problems within the communities they were a part of (USA and Catholic Church, respectively). They both then tried to fix these problems from within those communities, while remaining loyal to them while hoping for and really expecting change. And lastly, they both saw that the change was not forthcoming, and so they both changed courses and left their communities to form "better" ones. I interpret Coalhouse's little band as almost a new Nation, albeit one without land of its own. They are their own government, and all seem totally content with their situation, despite the fact that their nation, which they have named "Coalhouse", has gone to war with the United States.
The irony of the situation is that once Coalhouse has left the US (figuratively, not physically), public opinion begins to turn more in his favor. This is not to say that the majority of the US likes him, but people hate Willie Conklin, and, with the raising of the Model T, can see the effects of racism firsthand in a way that they understand. I think that because of this, Coalhouse does at least partly reach his goal of social change, in that he helps to begin what will be a very long journey to justice for all.

Ironic Metanarratives

     In class, we have discussed Doctorow's use of irony when describing most of the characters. However, he seems to write without any irony about Harry Houdini and Evelyn Nesbit. This may be for a multitude of reasons, but I think that it has to do with metanarratives, or rather the lack thereof. Most of the characters follow certain metanarratives, such as capitalism, the poverty balls, and even Mother's Younger Brother's infatuation with Evelyn. Doctorow pokes fun at Goldman because she is so obsessed and caught up in the metanarrative that is anarchy, and at Riis for his obsession with air shafts. I don't think that Doctorow is laughing at any (or at least most of) these characters directly, but rather at the metanarratives they believe, and just the fact that they follow any single metanarrative. This also explains why he even makes fun of characters who act like him.
     Evelyn and Houdini do not have any particular guiding principles or ideas or metanarratives that they follow and stand by. Both of them simply live their lives, take things as they come, and do not think overly much. This lack of guidance can be seen as a sort of sincerity, because they act on how they feel and what they want instead of committing to a metanarrative and only doing things that are seen as okay from that particular viewpoint. They are in a sense jumping from metanarrative to metanarrative as the whim takes them. This seems like a very postmodern thing to do, and perhaps Doctorow thinks it good or even wise of them. This in itself is ironic, that they are wise to not think as much about what they are doing, but it does have a certain logic to it, and explains Doctorow's lack of irony when discussing them.