Excerpts from Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man.

“That invisibility to which I refer occurs because of a peculiar disposition of the eyes of those with whom I come in contact. A matter of the construction of their inner eyes, those eyes with which they look through their physical eyes upon reality. I am not complaining, nor am I protesting either. It is sometimes advantageous to be unseen, although it is more often rather wearing on the nerves. Then too, you’re constantly being bumped against those of poor vision. Or again, you often doubt if you really exist.

You wonder if you are simply a phantom in other people’s minds. Say, a figure in a nightmare which the sleeper tries with all his might to destroy. It’s when you feel like that, out of resentment, you begin to bump people back. And let me confess, you feel that way most of the time. You ache with the need to convince yourself that you do exist in the real world, that you’re part of all the sound and anguish, and you strike out with your fists, you curse and swear to make them recognize you. And, alas, it’s seldom successful. Page 3-4

The train plunged. I dropped through the roar; giddy and vacuum-minded, sucked under and out into late afternoon Harlem…

When I cam out of the subway, Lenox Avenue seemed to careen away from me at a drunken angle, and I focused upon the teetering scene with wild, infant’s eyes, my head throbbing. Page 251

“Hell, that wasn’t what started it,” he said. “It was that fellow,

what’s his name…?”

“Who?” I said. “What’s his name?”

“That young guy!”

“You know, everybody’s mad about it…”

Clifton I thought. It’s for Clifton. A night for Clifton.

“Aw man, don’t tell me,” Scofield said. “Didn’t I see it

with my own eyes? About eight o’clock down on Lenox and 123^rd this paddy slapped a kid for grabbing a Baby Ruth

and the kid’s mama took it up and then the paddy slapped her and that’s when all hell broke loose.” Page 540-541

“Ah,” I can hear you say, “so it was all a build-up to bore us with his buggy jiving.” Page 581