<p>I am far from certain that The Color Purple is more “life-affirming” than The Invisible Man. What’s more, I suspect, QuantMech, that if you delve below the surface of both books you will find Ellison more to your taste than Alice Walker. (I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies in what follows, since it has been over 30 years since I have read either book, except for skimming the first half of The Invisible Man Saturday night.)</p>
<p>The similarities and differences in the intellectual histories of the two books are interesting (at least to me). Both are books of the left (at least of their time), but written by people who were to some extent asserting their independence both from “political correctness” and from aspects of the then-prevailing left-wing ideology.</p>
<p>Ellison and his protagonist essentially start from the intersection of Marxism and existentialism, a corner where lots of intellectuals hung out in the post-war period. He (they) ultimately rejects Marxism, although the dialectical method infuses everything in the book. The core of the book, however, remains profoundly existentialist, with the protagonist essentially reaching a state of pure freedom and free will having rejected all of the reductionist analyses that would box him in and deprive him of his full humanity. Of course, he winds up in a box of his own making – Ellison is not humorless – but it’s a place from which he can begin to construct an identity that is his own, not something predetermined by his race, poverty, education, class status, etc. Native Son – the “official” Great Afro-American Novel when Ellison was writing The Invisible Man – is pretty much a Socialist Realism novelization of racist oppression; The Invisible Man moves through that to a world with infinitely greater possibilities.</p>
<p>Walker, too, was looking to go beyond the dominant civil rights ideologies of her day. To pay attention to Black men oppressing Black women, and not to blame everything wrong with the world on Mr. (and Mrs.) Charlie, was to risk being accused of being a race-traitor and self-hater. But I think that – in lovely language – Walker winds up making a different set of reductionist choices, imagining a sort of Black-lesbian-feminist utopia in which everyone’s “different voice” becomes her true self. Celie, like the protagonist of The Invisible Man, reaches the end of her rope and self-educates, but what she learns is simply to love herself and to stop trying to deal with anything she can’t control (except for a little space for love with an unpredictable, though constantly loving partner). Basically, it’s a Hollywood ending, separatist style: respecting yourself and getting the right girl solves whatever ails you. It’s not surprising that Steven Spielberg was drawn to it.</p>
<p>Don’t get me wrong. I love The Color Purple. I read it the week it came out, because my wife was a huge fan of Walker’s essays. It’s a beautiful, beautifully written book. But it’s ultimately a lot more simplistic and reductionist – and therefore less interesting – than its major competition in the African-American bildungsroman category. (That would be The Invisible Man, and also Song of Solomon, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and the great direct predecessor of The Color Purple, almost unread outside academic feminist circles when Walker’s book was published, but now firmly part of the canon: Their Eyes Were Watching God.)</p>