The yam scene in Invisible Man was definitely something special. Even though I'm not particularly fond of yams, the way Ellison was describing them made me crave one. The scene also brought up interesting points regarding the narrator's development, and how yams can be used to represent his connection to his roots. We can see how something as simple as a yam can bring him a sense of happiness wherever he goes.
In chapter 13, we see the narrator traversing the snowy city streets of Harlem. This is his first northern winter, and we can see how alien he feels--a southerner in the north. A few steps later, however, the sweet smell of baking yams makes its way to him. He suddenly feels nostalgic and starts reminiscing about his childhood, remembering all the yams he has ever consumed. Eagerly, he purchases one. He sees the "sugary pulp streaming in the cold," and finds it as delicious, if not better, as any yam he's had before.
This scene is powerful in the sense that it presents the yam as a symbol of his southern heritage, a heritage that he now isn't afraid to conceal. In the previous chapters, namely in the diner scene, we see the narrator get very angry and even offended that someone would offer him pork chops and grits, a typical southern meal. Even though the waiter most likely meant no harm, it rubs the narrator the wrong way because he feels like he doesn't have a choice. Throughout the book, we have seen various characters make assumptions about him. He feels like he's being labeled, and doesn't like it. What makes the yam scene striking, then, is the fact that the narrator bought a yam out of his own free will. This gives him a surge of power, and he soon starts cracking jokes and making ironic assumptions about "white folks," much like they have about him this entire time.
I found it interesting that the yams affected him so much, but as soon as the vendor brought up sweet potato fried pies, the narrator lost interest. As we mentioned in class, it probably isn't a coincidence that Ellison chose yams. A yam, which is a root, fittingly represents his southern roots. There is also something about the candor of his love for yams. Unlike how he's been living his life so far, taste isn't something you can fake, and the yams really prove to his one friend in a crowd of strangers. The narrator's realization of this makes him make the comment, "why, you could cause us the greatest humiliation simply by confronting us with something we liked." This shows the growth the narrator has experienced since the beginning of the book. We could say his eyes have been opened, and he is on the path to living amongst his 1,369 lightbulbs.
This scene was super pivotal in the way it directly contrasted the scene in the diner early on. He was walking around with his yams and not caring who saw him versus worrying about what people assume about him. The yam works as a connection to the south and shows his true identity. I agree that this is a step on his path to invisibility.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't thought about the significance of the yam itself--not in the sense that it is a symbol of his southern heritage that he is now accepting, but more in the sense that the yam as a vegetable itself is a root, and so literally as well as metaphorically the yam is the narrators "root". But I think what also makes this scene so potent is that directly after is when the Narrator happens upon the eviction and makes his bold speech. Here the Narrator is branching off from his composed self--he mentions over and over again, "Were dispossessed," and this line is significant because he is no longer setting himself apart from his race, his family--which represents a huge shift in the way he views his position in life. So to bring it back around, the yams are either the impetus for this, or the foreshadowing of this event.
ReplyDeleteHe doesn't completely lose interest in the prospect of the fried potato pies because of the pies themselves--it's his realization that they'd probably cause him indigestion, which brings up the irony that his presumed efforts to "censor" his tastes to reinvent himself in the North have literally made the food he loves not digestible to him. He's changed, at a basic physiological level, from his experiences in the North. This is a deflating moment, though, akin to the sour bite of frostbitten yam at the very end--there's a sense of this good, simple moment suddenly becoming more complicated. He is what he is, but what he is now is someone who'd get indigestion trying to eat a fried pie. Moving North has changed him, and the meaning of that change remains ambiguous.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting how something as simple as street food could completely open the narrator's eyes. I also think that having someone as hospitable as the vendor helping him is much appreciated by the narrator. The north has been quite hostile toward the narrator and at the beginning of the chapter he runs into a women and she calls him a "filthy name." This sense of freedom of eating whatever he wants for everyone to see is what leads him to give a speech in front of many people, all of which are unfamiliar, except the evictees, which remind him of his grandparents
ReplyDelete