The Circle of Oppression

An Analysis of The Awakening by Kate Chopin and Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison 

In both The Awakening by Kate Chopin and Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, different forms of American subjugation of marginalized groups are explored through their protagonists’ experiences within their respective societies; Edna Pontellier faces sexism and misogyny while the narrator of Invisible Man deals with anti-Black racism. What makes the persecution featured in both of these novels so insidious is the way in which American society faults the oppressed for their own oppression, rather than acknowledging and examining the systems in place that perpetuate the status quo. In both novels, the American ruling class is the same: wealthy, formally educated, white men. However, the way the ruling class views Edna Pontellier differs greatly from the narrator of Invisible Man; whereas Edna’s assigned responsibilities lie in being an obedient wife and attentive mother, the protagonist of Invisible Man is made responsible for creating a better life for himself, the systemic racism and white supremacy that prevent him from doing so are seldom acknowledged.

A prime example of the stifling expectations placed on Edna for being a woman comes from the way her father, the Colonel, talks about her to her husband, Leonce Pontellier. Rather than bringing his concerns surrounding Edna’s behavior to Edna herself, her father goes to Leonce, telling him, “‘You are too lenient, too lenient by far, Leonce, …‘Authority, coercion are what is needed. Put your foot down good and hard; the only way to manage a wife’” (Chopin 59). The Colonel makes it clear that he believes wives should be obedient to their husbands and that it is Leonce’s leniency that has caused Edna to begin acting less like a traditional woman. The expectations placed on Edna as Leonce’s wife generates conflict when those expectations are not met, and as she is going through a period of self-discovery during this point of the novel, those expectations are defied time and time again. The Colonel citing “Authority” and “coercion” as being the method men should use to “manage a wife”–even the notion that a wife needs to be managed–is reflective of the way American society views women possessions of their husbands, rather than individual people with agency (Chopin 59). 

Edna’s individuality is challenged by the women in her life as well. Adele Ratignolle, a good friend of Edna’s and exemplar of a woman in Creole society, provides a stark contrast between Edna and how Creole society dictates a woman should behave. The two of them came into conflict when discussing their differing perspectives on motherhood and their children. Edna tells Adele that while she would give her life, “she would never sacrifice herself for her children” to which Adele responds that “‘a woman who would give her life for her children could do no more than that–your Bible tells you so’” (Chopin 40). To Edna, there exists something beyond her own life that she deems as more important or “essential;” this is the Emersonian, or true, self that she is beginning to understand more. In saying that she would not sacrifice herself, she is refusing to give up that which cannot be given without losing oneself entirely. Sacrificing oneself, in the way Edna mentions, would imply the loss of identity and individual worth that she is just beginning to cultivate, whereas Adele’s belief in the self begins and ends with the role set out for her, limiting her understanding of what Edna is trying to convey. To Adele, a mother should be willing to give up all of herself for her children, and the lack of understanding of what that might entail speaks to the way Creole society inherently limits women in how they think of themselves. Furthermore, Adele made reference to the Bible being the basis of her argument, revealing how deeply entrenched this limited view of womanhood is in her; the Bible, especially during her time, is an absolute authority that cannot be challenged. Similarly, the narrow ideas of gender roles in Creole society also cannot be challenged; while much of the power structure is not upheld solely by religion, it is frequently cited in arguments when people, such as Edna, challenge the status quo. The religious foundation on which oppressive power structures sit gives those who are not a part of the ruling class reason to perpetuate their own oppression, turning upholding the status quo into a responsibility.

Much of the criticism the narrator of Invisible Man receives from white and Black people alike comes from differing perceptions of that responsibility. Uneducated Black characters from the South scorn the narrator for being a traitor to the African American people in associating with white people. White characters, on the other hand, view the narrator as something potentially dangerous that needs to be monitored lest he upset the power structures in place. The first example of the narrator being stifled by these power structures comes during his speech during the battle royale after he mentions “social… equality—” (Ellison 31). One of the white onlookers tells him, “We mean to do right by you, but you’ve got to know your place at all times” (Ellison 31), taking the narrator’s mention of social equality as an affront that needs correcting. Until that point, the narrator had spoken about “social responsibility,” an idea the white ruling class would benefit from as being the main narrative around subjects of social justice and racial disparity (Ellison 30). Instead of acknowledging the truth of racism—a deeply interconnected series of systems and beliefs held both by individuals and institutions alike that propagates itself, the white man tells the narrator that in order for them to “do right” by him and other Black people, he, and by extension all African Americans must “know [their] place at all times” and maintain the status quo (Ellison 31). The responsibility of social justice and striving for better lies with the individual African American themself, rather than the racist, white-supremacist society that has constructed the paradigm in the first place.

The impact of this narrative of individual responsibility is felt by the narrator when he is punished by Dr. Bledsoe for taking a trustee, Mr. Norton, on a drive to see Jim Trueblood and the Golden Day. The drive was an endeavor of the narrator to earn the trustee’s favor, but it ended with Mr. Norton being upset by Trueblood’s story and attacked and insulted by the patrons of Golden Day. Despite Mr. Norton’s words to the contrary, Dr. Bledsoe holds the narrator personally responsible for what happened and sends him out of the school (which he would come to learn was an expulsion). The narrator contests this at first, but later had “convinced [himself], [he] had violated the code and thus would have to submit to punishment” (Ellison 147). Once again, a responsibility that should not be his is placed upon the narrator to uphold the power structures in place; though, this is a circumstance of a Black person being the power behind that narrative. Dr. Bledsoe represents the ideal Black person in the eyes of white American society—the narrator of Invisible Man wishes to become like him because visible Black success is limited only to that which benefits the white ruling class. It is why the narrator eventually concedes that even though he feels wronged, “Dr. Bledsoe is right…he’s right; the school and what it stands for have to be protected” because there has been no other framework to tell him otherwise (Ellison 147). The few times that the narrator expresses his Emersonian self prior to discovering his invisibility, he is confronted with the overwhelming power of the white ruling class and the hegemonic society that keeps people of color from upsetting that balance. Dr. Bledsoe’s authority, and more importantly, the narrator’s obedience to that authority, depicts how the idea of individual social responsibility functions in practice; the narrator “convinced” himself he was wrong. Beyond just accepting the punishment, he believes that he deserves it, thereby participating in upholding the power structure that led to the unjust treatment in the first place.

In both of the societies Edna Pontellier and the narrator of Invisible Man find themselves, social norms are maintained through constructing ways in which groups of marginalized identities are made responsible for their own oppression. The difference between how women are treated in The Awakening and how Black people are treated in Invisible Man comes from what the responsibility, in question, is to. In Invisible Man, the poor quality of life many Black characters suffer from, including the narrator himself, is attributed to racism and existing racial disparities left over from slavery. Yet, the expectation of how one gets oneself out of these situations is individualistic; Black people are meant to work within the existing systems and create better situations for themselves and themselves alone by playing by the rules. People like Dr. Bledsoe are prime examples of this. The society of Invisible Man deems that it is the responsibility of Black people to “know [their] place” and to work within it to achieve success (Ellison 31). Conversely, the role of women in The Awakening is not acknowledged to be oppressive at all by anyone outside of Mademoiselle Reisz and Edna Pontellier herself. The responsibility, here, lies with being the best wife and mother, and that being its own success. The responsibility of women is to the social norm itself, and those who do not conform to that notion are chastised as Edna is or made social pariahs as Mademoiselle Reisz is. 

An issue with both novels comes from a lack of acknowledgement for those with intersectional identities and how they have unique experiences—dealing with the oppression of multiple identities, both within and without their respective communities. The Awakening explores the role of white women within American society, but it does not acknowledge the unique struggles of being both a woman and Black despite there being multiple characters who share both identities. The quadroon, for example, is never given a name, nor is she viewed as much more than a worker in the Pontellier household; her personhood is taken from her. Similarly, Invisible Man does not do much to explore the intersectionality of being both Black and a woman in either the South or in Harlem, despite there being multiple characters who share both identities as well. Particularly, Matty Lou Trueblood’s sexual trauma at the hands of her father is used as a way to develop Jim Trueblood’s character and his own Emersonian self, and is not explored beyond that. Both novels center in on their primary issue of either misogyny or racism respectively, but do little else beyond that to acknowledge the struggles of those with intersectional identities.

For both Edna Pontellier and the narrator of Invisible Man, their relationships between their oppression and the responsibility they have to that oppression explore how prejudiced power structures perpetuate themselves through instilling their ideals in those they marginalize. The misogynistic and sexist definitions of womanhood in The Awakening maintain that Edna need only fulfill her role better in order to achieve her true self. While Invisible Man’s America demands Black people uphold the status quo in the vain attempt of being rewarded by it, all while being the victims of violent and hateful racism.

Ellison, Ralph. Invisible Man. New York, Vintage Books, 1952.

Chopin, Kate. The Awakening. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 1899.