Invisible Man - Chapter 5

hello and welcome back to micah reads today we have uh a cat squid with us she won't be staying she doesn't like being on camera and she doesn't like when i'm loud and i'm very loud when i read isn't that right squid she's like yeah i hate it meow indeed what a flippin cutie look at this one she's like meow anyways yeah i know you can go i'm sorry anyways so we are reading invisible man we are by ralph ellison and we are on chapter 5. out the sound of vespers i moved across the campus for the group of students walking slowly their voice is soft in the mellow dusk i remember the yellowed globes of frosted glass making lacy silhouettes on the gravel and the walk of the leaves and branches above us as we moved slow through the dusk so restless with the scents of lilac honeysuckle and verbena and the feel of spring greenness and i recall the sudden our peggos are arpeggios of laughter lilting across the tender springtime grass gay welling far floating fluent spontaneous a bell-like feminine fluting then suppressed as those snuffed swiftly and irrevere irrevecably beneath the quiet solemnity of the vespered air now vibrant with somber chapel bells above the decorous decorus walking around me sounds of footsteps leaving the verandas of far-flung buildings and moving towards the walks and over the walks to the asphalt drives lined with whitewashed stones those cryptic messages from men and women boys and girls heading quietly towards where the wizard visitors awaited and we moving not in the mood of worship but of judgment as though even here in the filtering dusk here beneath the deep indigo sky here alive with looping swifts and darting moths here in the hereness of the night not yet lighted by the moon that looms blood red behind the chapel like a fallen sun its radiant radiance shedding not upon the here dusk of twittering bats nor on the their night of crickets and whipperwill but focus short rage short raid upon our place of convergence and we drifting towards forward with rigid motions limbs stiff and voices now silent as though on exhibit even in the dark and the moon a white man's bloodshot eye and i move more rigid than all the others with a sense of judgment the vibrations of the chapel bells stirring the depths of my turmoil moving towards its nexus with a sense of doom and i remember the chapel with its sweeping eaves long and narrow as though risen bloody from the earth like the rising moon fine covered and earth colored as though more earth sprung than man sprung and my mind rushing for relief away from the spring dusk and flower sense away from the time scene of crucifixion to the time mood of the birth from spring dusk and vespers to the high clear lucid moon of winter and snow glinting upon the dwarf pines where instead of the bells the organs and trombone choir speak carols to the distances draft drifted with snow making of the night air a sea of crystal water lapping in slumbering land to the furthest reaches of sound for endless miles bringing the new dispensions even to the golden day even onto the house of madness but in the hereness of dusk i am moving towards the doom-like bells through the flowered air beneath the rising moon into the doors and into the soft lights i go silently past the rows of puritanical benches straight and torturous finding that to which i am assigned and bending my body to its agony there at the head of the platform with its pulpit and rail of polish brass are the banked and pyramided heads of the student voi a student choir voices composed and stalled above uniforms of black and white and above them stretching to the ceiling the organ pipes looming a gothic hierarchy of dull gilded gold around me the students move with faces frozen and solemn masks and i seem to hear already the voices mechanically raised in the songs the visitors loved loved demanded sung and ultimatum escaped and ritualized and allegiance recited for the peace it imparted and for that perhaps loved loved as defeated come to love the symbols of their conquerors a gesture of acceptance of terms laid down and reluctantly approved and here sitting rigid i remember the evenings spent before the sweeping platform in awe and and pleasure and the pleasure of all remember the short formal sermons entoned from the pulpit there rendered in smooth articulate tones with calm assured purged of the wild emotion of the crude the crude preachers most of us knew in our hometowns and of whom we were deeply ashamed these logical appeals which reached us more than a thrust of a firm and formal design requiring more nothing more than the lucidity of uncluttered periods the lulling movement of the multi-syllabic words to thrill and console us and i remember too the talks of visiting speakers all eager to inform us of how fortunate we were to be a part of the vast and formal ritual how how fortunate to belong to this family sheltered from those lost in ignorance and darkness here upon the stage of the black rite of horatio alger was performed to god's own acting script with millionaires come down to portray portray themselves not merely acting out to myth of their goodness and wealth and success and power and benevolence and authority in cardboard masks but themselves these virtues concretely not the wafer and the wine but the flesh and the blood vibrant and alive the vibrant even when stooped ancient and withered and who in the face of this would not believe could even doubt and i remember too how we confronted those others those who had set me here in this eden whom we knew though did not know who were unfamiliar in their familiarity who trailed their words to us through blood and violence and ridicule and condescension withdrawing smiles and who exhorted and threatened intimidated with innocent words as they described to us the limitations of our lives and the vast boldness of our aspirations the staggering folly of our impatience to rise even higher who as they talked aroused furtive visions within me of blood froth sparkling their chins like their familiar tobacco juice and upon their lips the curdled milk of a million black slave mammies withered dogs a treacherous and fluid knowledge of our being imbibed at our source and now regurgitated fowl upon us this was our world they say that as they described it to us this is our horizon and its earth its seasons and its climate its spring in its summer and its fall and harvest some unknown millennium ahead and these its floods and cyclones and they themselves are thunder and lightning and this we must accept and love and accept even if we did not love we must accept even when those were absent and the men who made the railroads and ships and towers of stone were before our eyes in the flesh their voices different unweighted with a recognizable danger and their delight in our songs more sincere seeming their regard for our welfare marked by an almost benign and impersonal indifference but the words of others were stronger than the strength of philanthropic dollars deeper than shafts sunk in the earth for oil and gold more awe-inspiring than miracles fabricated in scientific laboratories for their most innocent words were acts of violence to which we of the campus were hypersensitive though we endured them not and there on the platform i too had stridden and debated a student leader directing my voice at the highest beams in the furthest rafters ringing them the accent staccato upon the ridge pole and echoing back with a tinkling like words hurled to the trees of a wilderness or into a well of slate gay water more sound than sense a play upon the resonances of buildings an assault upon the temples of the car oh wow temples of the ear ear looks like carr in this font ha to the gray-haired matron in the final row ha miss suzy miss suzy grass gresham back there looking at that coed smiling that he bed listen to me the bungling burglar of words imitating the trumpet and the trombone timber playing the dramatic the thematic variations like a baritone horn hey old connoisseur of voiced sounds of voices without messages of newsless winds listen to the vowel sounds and the crackling dentals to the low harsh gutturals of empty anguish now riding the curve of the preacher's rhythm i heard long ago in a baptist church strip now of its imagery no sons having hemorrhages no moons weeping tears no earthworms refusing the sacred flesh and dancing in the earth on eastern mourn singing achievement ha booming success in toning ha acceptance ha a river of word sounds filled with drowned passions floating ha with wrecks of unachievable ambitions and stillborn revolts sweeping their ears ha ringed stiff before me neck stretched forward with listening ears ha a spray in the ceiling and a drum in the dark stained after rafter that seasoned cross arm of torturous timber mellowed in the kiln of a thousand voices playing ha as upon a xylophone words marching like the student band up the campus and down again blaring triumphant sounds empty of triumphs hey miss suzy the sound of words that were no words counterfeit notes singing achievements yet unachieved writing upon the wings of my voice out to you old matron who knew the voice sounds of the founder and knew the accents and echo of his promise your gray old head cocked with the young around you your eyes closed face ecstatic as i toss the word sounds in my breath my bellows my fountain like bright colored balls and a water spout bear me old matron justify now this sound with your dear old nod and affirmation your closed-eyed smile and bound recognition who'll never be fooled with the mere content of words not my words not those pin-feathered flighters that you stroke your lids until they flutter with the ecstasy with but mere echoed noise of the promise and after the singing and outward marching you seize my hand and sing out the quavering boy someday you'll make the founder proud ha susie gresham mother gresham guardian of the hot young woman on the puritan benches who couldn't see her jordan's water for their private steam you relic of slavery whom the campus loved but did not understand aged of slavery yet bearer of something warm and vital and all enduring of which in that island of shame we were not ashamed it was you on the final row i directed my rush of sound and it was you of whom i thought was shame and regret as i waited for the ceremony to begin the honored guests moved silently upon the platform herded towards their high carved chairs by dr bledsoe with the decorum of a portly headed sorry a portly head waiter like some of the guests he wore striped trousers and swallowtail coat with black braided lapels topped by rich ascot tie it was his regular dress for such occasions yet for all its elegance he managed to make himself look humble somehow his trousers inevitably bagged at the knees and the coats slouched at the shoulders i watched him smiling at the first one and then another of the guests all of whom but one were white and i saw him placing his hand upon their arms touching their backs whispering to a tall angular-faced trustee who in turn touched his arm familiarly i felt a shudder i too had touched a white man today and i felt that it had been disastrous and i realized then that he was the one of us whom i knew except perhaps a barber or a nursemaid who could touch a white man with impunity and i remember too that whenever white guests came upon the platform he placed his hands upon them as though exercising a powerful magic i watched his teeth flash as he took a white hand and then with all seated he went to his place at the end of the row of chairs several terraces of students faces above them the organ the organist his eyes glinting at the console was waiting with his head too turned over his shoulder and i saw dr bledsoe his eyes roaming over the audience suddenly nod without turning his head it was as though he had given a downbeat with an invisible baton the organist tune turned and hunched his shoulders a high cascade of sound bumbled from the organ spreading thick and clinging over the capital the chapel slowly surging the organist twisted and turned on his bench with his feet flying beneath him as though dancing to the rhythms totally unrelated to the decorous thunder of his organ and dr bledsoe sat with benign smile of inward concentration yet his eyes were darting swiftly first over the rows of students then over the section reserved for teachers his swift glance carrying a threat for all for he demanded that everyone attend these sessions it was here that policy was announced in broadest rhetoric i seem to feel his eyes resting upon my face as he swept the section in which i sat i looked at the guests on the platform they sat without alert relaxation which with which they had always met our upturned eyes i wondered to which of them i might go to intercede for me with dr bledsoe but within myself i knew that there was no one in spite of the array of important men beside him and despite the posture of humility and meekness which made him seem smaller than the others although he was physically larger dr bledsoe made his presence felt by us with far greater impact i remember the legend of how he had come to the college a barefoot boy who in favor fervor of his for education had trudged with his bundle of ragged clothing across two states now he was given a job feeding slump to the hogs but it made himself the best slop dispenser in history of the school and now the founder had been impressed and made him his office boy each of us knew over his rise over the years of hard work to the presidency and each of us at some time wished that he had walked to the school or pushed a wheelbarrow or performed some other act of determination and sacrificed to attest his eagerness for knowledge i remember the admiration and fear he inspired and everyone on the campus the pictures of in the negros press captioned educator in type that exploded like a rifle shot his face looking at you with the utmost confidence to us he was more than just president of the college he was a leader a statesman who carried our problems to those above us even unto the white house and in days past he had conducted the president himself on the campus he was our leader in our magic who kept the endowment high the funds for scholarships plentiful and publicity moving through the channels of the press he was our coal black yep coal black daddy of whom we were afraid as the organ voices died i saw a thin brown girl arise noiselessly with a rigid control of a modern dancer high in the upper rows of the choir and began to sing a capella she began softly as those singing to herself of emotions of utmost privacy a sound not addressed to the gathering but which they overheard almost against her will gradually she increased its volume until at times the voice seemed to become a disembodied force that sought to enter her to violate her shaking her rocking her rhythmically as though it had become the source of her being rather than the fluid web of her own creation i saw guests on the platform turn to look behind them to see the thin brown girl in white choir robes standing high against the organ pipes herself become before our eyes a pipe of contained controlled and sublimated anguish a thin plain face transformed by music i could not understand the words but only the mood sorrowful vague and ethereal of the singing it throbbed with nostalgia regret and repentance and i sat with a lump in my throat as she sang sank slowly down not a sitting but a controlled collapsing as though she were balancing sustaining the simmering bubble of her final tone by some delicate rhythm of her black her heart's blood or by some mystic concentration of her being for focused upon the second thought the containment the contained liquid of her uplifted her large uplifted eyes jesus i can't talk there was no applause only the appreciation of a profound silence the white guests exchanged smiles of approval i sat thinking of the dread possibility of having to leave all this of being expelled imagining the return home and the rebukes of my parents i looked out at the scene now from far behind far back in my despair seeing the platform and its actors is through a reverse telescope small doll-like figures moving through some meaningless ritual someone up there above the alternating master eye and the grease slick heads of the student rode before me was making announcements from a lectern on which a dim light shone another figure rose and led a prayer someone spoke then around me everyone was singing lead lead me lead me lead me to a rock that is higher than i and as though the sound contained some force more impervious than the image of the scene of which it was the living connective tissue i was pulled back to this immediate to its immediacy one of the guests had risen to speak a man of striking ugliness fat with a bullet head on a short neck with a nose too wide for his face upon which he wore black lens glasses he had been seated next to dr bledsoe but so concerned had i been with the president that i hadn't really sorry so concerned had i been with the president that i hadn't really seen him my eyes had focused only on the white man and dr bledsoe so now that he wrote so that now as he rose and crossed slowly to the center of the platform i the notion that part of dr bledsoe had arisen and moved forward leaving his other part smiling in the chair he said before as relaxed his white collar gleaming like a band between his black face and his dark garments dividing his head from his body his short arms crossed before his barrel his barrel like a black little buddha's for a moment he stood with his large head lifted as though thinking then he began speaking his voice round enviro speaking his voice ran him vibrant as he told of his pleasure and being allowed to visit the school once more after many years having been preaching in the northern city he had seen it last in his final days of the founder when dr bledsoe was the second in command those were wonderful days he droned significant days days filled with great portent as he talked he made a cage of his hands by touching his fingertips and then with a small feet pressing together he began a slow rhythmic rocking tilting forward on his toes until it seemed he would fall then back on his heels the lights catching his black lens glasses until it seemed that his head floated free of his body and was held close to it only by the white band of his collar and as he tilted he talked until a rhythm was established then he was renewing the dream in our hearts this barren land after a massive emancipation he entoned this land of darkness and sorrow of ignorance and degradation where the hand of brother had been turned against brother father against son and son against father where master returned against slave and slave against master were always strife in darkness in aging land and into this land came a humble prophet lowly like the humble carpenter of nazareth the slave and a son of slaves knowing only his mother a slave born but marked from the beginning by a high intelligence and princely personality born in the lower parts of his barren war scarred land yet somehow shedding light upon it whether he passed through i'm sure you have heard of his precarious infancy his precious life almost destroyed by an insane cousin who splashed the babe with lie and shriveled his seed and how a mere babe he lay nine days in a death-like coma and then suddenly and miraculously recovered you might say it was as though he had risen from the dead or been reborn oh my young friends he cried beaming my young friends and it indeed is a beautiful story i'm sure you've heard it many times recall how he came upon his initial learning through shrewd questioning of his little masters the elder masters never suspecting and now he learned his alphabet and taught himself to read and solve the secret of words going instinctively to the holy bible with his great wisdom for his first knowledge and you know how he escaped and made his way across the mountain and valley to that place of learning and how he persisted and worked noon times nights and mornings for the privilege of studying or as the old folk would say of rubbing his head against the college wall you love his brilliant career of how much he was a moving or raider and then his penniless graduation and in return after years to this country and then his great struggle beginning picture it my young friends the clouds of darkness all over the land black folk and white folk full of fear and hate wanted to go forward but each fearful of the other a whole region is caught in a terrible tension everyone is perplexed with a question of what must be done to dissolve this fear and hatred that crouched over the land like a demon waiting to spray and you know how he came and showed them the way oh yes my friends i'm sure you've heard it in time and time again for this godly man's labors his great humility and his undemoned vision the fruits of which you enjoy today concrete made flesh his dream conceived in the starkness and darkness of slavery fulfilled now even in the air you breathe and the sweet harmonies of your blended voices and the knowledge which each of you daughters and granddaughters sons and grandsons of slaves all of you partaking of it in bright well-equipped last well-equipped classrooms you must see this slave this black aristotle moving slowly with sweet patience with a patience not of mere man but of a god-inspired faith seeing him moving slowly as he surmounts each and every opposition rendering unto caesar that which was caesar's yes but steadfastly seeking for you that bright horizon which you now enjoy all this he said spreading his finger his fingers palmed down before him has been told and retold through the land and aspiring a humble but fast rising people you have heard it and it this true story of rich implication this living parable of proven glory and humble nobility and it as i say has made you free even you who have come to the shrine only this semester know it you have heard his name from your parents for it was he who led them to the path guiding them like a great captain like that great pilot of ancient times who led his people safe and unharmed across the bottom of the blood blood red sea and your parents followed this remarkable man across the black sea of prejudice safely out of the land of ignorance through the storms of fear and anger shouting let my people go when it was necessary whispering it during those times when whispering was wisest and he was heard i listened my back pressing against the hard bench with a numbness the hard bench with a numbness my emotions woven into his words as upon a loom and remember how he said when he enters a certain state at cotton picking time his enemies had plotted to take his life and recall how during his journey he was stopped by the strange figure of a man whose pitted features revealed no inkling of whether he was black or white some say he was greek some of mongolian others are mulatto another is still a simple white man of god however or whoever whatsoever and we must not rule out the possibility hey remember we must not rule out the possibility of an emissary direct from above oh yes and remember how he appeared suddenly startling both founder and horse as he gave warning telling the founder to leave the horse and buggy there on the road and proceed immediately to a certain cabin then slipped silently away so silently my young friends that the founder doubted his very existence and you know how the great man continued through the dusk determined though puzzled as he approached the town he was lost lost in reverie until the crack of the first rifle sounded and then almost fatal folly that released into his skull oh my and left him stunned and apparently lifeless i've heard him tell with his own lips how consciousness returned while they were still upon him examining their foul deed and how he lay biting his heart lest they hear it and wipe out their failure with a coup de gras as the french would say ha and i'm sure you each of you lived with him through his escape he said seemingly to look directly into my watered eyes you awaken when he awakened rejoiced when he rejoiced that they're living without further harm arising when he rising when he rose seeing with his eyes the prince of their milling footsteps and the cartridges dropped in the dust about the imprint of his fallen body yes in the cold dusty crusty uh yes and the cold dust encrusted but not quite fatal blood and you hurried with him full of doubt to the cabin designated by the stranger where he met that seemingly demented black man you remember that old one laughed at by the children in the town square old comic-faced crafty cotton-headed and yet it was he who bound up your wounds with the wounds of the founder he the old slave shown with surprising knowledge of eats matters germology and scabology he called it and would he a youthful skill of the hands for he shaved our skull and cleansed our wound and bound it meat with bandages stolen from the home of an unsuspecting leader of the mob ha and you recall how you plunged with the founder of the leader deep into the black out of escape guided at first indeed initiated by seemingly demented one who had learned his craft in slavery you left with the founder and the black and the knight and i know it you hurried silently along the river bottom stung by mosquitoes hooted by owls zoomed by bats buzzed by snakes that rattled among the rocks mud and fever darkness and sighing you hit all the following days in the cabin where 13 slept in small three small rooms standing until the darkness and the fireplace chimney back in all the soot and ashes haha guarded by the granny who dozed at the hoth seemingly without a fire you stood in the blackness and when they came with their bayon hounds they thought her demented but she knew she knew she knew the fire she knew the fire she knew the fire that burned without consuming oh my god yes my god yes a woman responded or my god yes a woman voice responded adding to the structure of his vision within me and you left him on the morning hidden in a wagon load of cotton in the very center of the fleece where you breathe the hot air through the barrel of emergency shotgun the cartridges which thank god it was necessary to use held fan wise and ready between the spread fingers of your hand and you went into this town with him and were hidden by the friendly aristocrat one night and on the next by white blacksmith who held no hatred surprising contradictions of the underground escaping yes held by those who knew you and those who didn't know because for some it was even enough to see him others helped without even that black and white but mostly it was our own who aided because you were their own and we have always helped our own and so my young friends my sisters and brothers you went with him in and out of cabins by night and early morning through swamps and hills on and on passed from black hand to black hand and some white hands and all the hands molding the founders freedom and our own freedom like voices shaping a deep felt song and you each of you were with him ah how well you know it for it was you who escaped to freedom ah yes and you know the story i saw him resting now and beaming out across the chapel his huge head turning to all its corners like a beacon his voice still echoing as i fought back emotion oh wow i'm so dumb i saw him resting now and beaming out across the chapel his huge head turning to all its corners like a beacon his voice still echoing as i fought back my emotion for the first time the evocation of the founder saddened me and the campus seemed to rush past me fast retreating like the fading of a dream in the sunder of slumber sundering of slumber beside me the student's eyes swam with a distortion of cataracts of tears his face is rigid his features rigid as though he struggled within himself the fat man was playing upon the whole audience without the least show of exertion he seemed completely composed hidden behind his black lens glasses only his mobile feature is gesturing his vocal drama ah excuse me only his mobile features gesturing his vocal his vocal drama i nudged the boy beside me who is he i whispered he gave me a look of annoyance almost of outrage reverend homer a bobby of chicago he said now to the speaker rested his arm upon the lectern and turned towards dr bledsoe you've heard the bright beginning of a beautiful story my friends but there is the mournful ending and perhaps the many ways the rich aside the setting of this glorious sun of the morning he turned a darker blood cell hold on the setting of this glorious sun of the morning he turned to dr bledsoe it was a fateful day dr bledsoe sir if i may recall it to you for we were there oh yes my young friends he said turning to face us again with a sad proud smile i knew him well and loved him and i was there we had told through several states to which he was carrying the message the people had come to hear the prophet the multitude had responded the old-fashioned people women and aprons and mother hubbards of calico and gingham men in their overalls and patched alpacas a sea of up turned and puzzled faces looking out from beneath old battered straw hats and lip old battered straw hats and limp sub bonnets they who had come by aux in the mule team and walking long distances it was the month of september and unseasonably cold he had spoken peace and confidence into the troubled souls he had a star before him and we were passing on to other scenes still carrying the message ah those days of ceaseless travel these youthful days those springtime days fertile blossomy sun-filled days of promise i yes those indescribably glorious days in which the founder was built in the dream not only here in this then barren valley but hither in yonder through the land and still in the dream in the hearts of the people erecting the scaffolding of a nation broadcasting his message that felt like a seed on fallow ground sacrificing himself fighting and forgiving fighting forgiving both complexions but going forward filled with important and importance of his message filled with a dedicated mission and in his zeal perhaps in his mortal pride ignoring the advice of his physician i see in my mind's eye the fatal atmosphere of that jam-packed auditorium the founder holds the audience within a gentle palm of his eloquence rocking it and soothing it instructing it and there below the wrap faces blush by the glow of the big pot-bellied stove now turned cherry red with its glowing yes the spellbound rose caught me imperious truth of his message and i hear now again this great humming hush as his voice reached the end of a mighty period wow no i think we're still in him talking and one of the listeners the snowy headed man leaps to his feet crying out tell us what is to be done sir for god's sake tell us tell us the name of the son and they snatched for me last week and all through the room the voices arise and implore and tell us tell us and i found a suddenly mute with tears old barbie's voice rang out suddenly he made a charge in him complete movements about the platform acting out his words now watch for the sick fascination knowing part of the story yet a part of me fighting against its sad inevitable conclusion and the founder pauses then steps forward with his eyes spilling his great emotion with his arm upraised he begins to answer and tatas then all his commotion we rush forward and lead him away the audience leaps to his feet in consternation all his terror and turmoil a moan and sign until the clap of thunder i heard dr bledsoe's voice ring out whiplack with authority of song and hope and as we stretch the founder upon a bed to rest i hear dr bledsoe stomping out the time with mighty strokes upon the hollow platform commanding not in words but in great gut stones to his magnificent basso oh but he wasn't he a singer isn't he a singer still today and they stand they come and they stand they come and with him they sing out against the torturing of the giant singing of out their long black songs of blood and bones meaning hope of hardship and pain meaning faith of humbleness and absurdity meaning endurance of seepless struggle and darkness meaning triumph ha barbie cried slapping his hands high singing verse after verse until the leader revives he slaps his hand he claps his hands addressed them my god my god assured them that he was only tired of his season hold on i'm so confused what's going on here's only tired of his ceaseless efforts slap yes and dismisses them sending each in their own way rejoicing giving each a part and handshake a fellowship i watch barbie paces him a circle pace in a semicircle his lips compressed his face working with a motion his palms meeting but making no sound all those days in which he tilled his mighty fields those days in which he watched the crops take hold and grow those youthful summery some bright days barbie's voice sighed off in nostalgia the chapel hardly breathed and he sighed deeply then i watched him produce a snowy handkerchief remove his dark glasses and wipe his eyes and through the increasing distance of my isolation i watched the men in the seats of honor slowly shaped their spellbound heads then barbie's voice began again disembodied now and it was as though he had never paused as though his words reverberating within us had continued their rhythmic flow though their source was for a moment stilled oh yes my young friends oh yes he continued with a great sadness man's hope can paint the purple picture can transform a soaring vulture into a noble eagle or a moan and dove oh yes but i knew he shouted startling me in spite of that great anguish hope within me i knew i knew that the great spirit was declining was approaching its lonely winter a great sun going down for sometimes it has given one to know these things and i staggered under the awful burden of that knowledge and i cursed myself because i bore it but such was the founder's enthusiasm oh yes is that we sped from country down to country from country town to country town through the in glorious indian summer i soon forgot and then and then and then i listened to his voice fall to a whisper his hands were outspread as though he were leading an orchestra into a profound and final diminuendo then his voice rose again crisply almost matter-of-factly accelerated i remember the start of the train how it seemed to groan as it started up the steep grade into the mountain it was cold frost from its icy patterns upon the windows edges and the whistle of the train was long drawn and lonely a sigh issuing from the depths of the mountain in a car up ahead in the pullman assigned him by the very president of the line league late leader yate lay tossing he had been struck with a sudden and mysterious sickness and i knew in spite of the anguish within me that the sun goeth down for the heavens themselves conveyed that knowledge the rush of the train the clicking of wheels upon the steel i remember how i looked out on the frosted pane and saw the looming great north star and lost it as though the sky had shut its eye a train was curving the mountains the engine sloping or the the engine loping like a great black hound parallel with the last careening cause painting forth its pale white vapor as it hurled us ever higher and shortly the sky was black without a moon as his moon echoed over the chapel he drew his chin against his chest until his white collar disappeared leaving him a figure of balanced and broken blackness and i could hear the rasp of heirs he inhaled it was as though the very constellations knew our impending sorrow he bugled his head raising to the ceiling his voice forethroated for against that great wide sweep of sable there came out the burst of a single jewel-like star and i saw it shimmer and break and streak down the cheeks of that cold black sky like a reluctant and solitary tear he shook his head with great emotion his lips pursed as he moaned turning towards dr bledsoe as though he did not quite see him at that fateful moment hmm i sat with you or i sat with your great president he was deep in meditation as we awaited words from the men of science oh he was in deep meditation as we awaited word from the mens of science and he said to me of that dying star bobby friend did you see and i answered yes doctor i saw and at our throats already we felt the cold hands of sorrow and i said to dr bled so let us pray and we knelt there on the swaying floor our words were less prayers than sounds of mutant terrible sorrow and it was then as we pulled off to our feet staggering with the motion of that speeding train that we saw the physicians moving towards this and we looked with beta breath into the blank and expressionless features of a man of science asking with our total beings do you bring us hope a disaster and it was then and there he informed us that leader was nearing his destination it was said the cruel blow had fallen and we were left numb but the founder was still for the moment with us and still in command and of all the traveling party he sent for him who sits there before you and for me as a man of god but he won mainly his friend of midnight constellations his comrade of many battles who over the weary years had remained a steadfast and defeating as in victory even now i could see it the dark passage lit with dim lights and dr bledsoe swent oh yeah and dr bled so swearing as he went before me at this door stood at the the porter and the conductor a black man and a white man of the south both crying both weeping and he looked up as we entered his great eyes resigning but still a flame with nobility and courage against the white of his pillow and he looked at his friend and smiled smiled warmly at his old campaigner his loyal champion his adjunct his adjunct that marvelous singer of the old songs who would rally to spirit during times of distress and discouragement who with the singing of the old familiar melody soothed the doubts and fears of the multitude he would rally the ignorant the fearful and suspicious those still wrapped in the rags of slavery him there your leader who calmed the children of the storm and as the founder looked up at his companion he smiled and reaching out his hand to his friend as companion as i now stretch out to my hand to you he said come closer come closer and he moved closer until he stood beneath the birth and the slight slanting across his shoulder as he knelt beside him and the hand that reached out and gently touched him and he said now you must take on the burden lead them the rest of the way and oh for the cry of the train and the pain too big for tears when the train reached the summit of the mountain he was no longer with us and as the train dropped down the grade he had departed it had become a veritable train of sorrow dr blood so there said weary and mind and heavy of heart what should he do the leader was dead and he was thrown suddenly at the head of the troops like a cavalryman catapulted that the saddle of his general failed in the charge of battle vaulted onto the black of his vaulted onto the back of his fiery and half-broken charger and that great black noble beast while eyed with the den of battle and twitching already with its sense of loss what command should he give should he return with his burden home to where already the hot wires were flashing speaking rattling the mournful message should he turn and bear the fallen soldier down the cold in alien mountain to this valley home returned with the dear with dear eyes dulled the firm hand still the magnificent voice silent the leader cold returned to the warm valley to the green grounds he could no longer light with his mortal vision should he follow his leader's vision though he had now himself departed ah of course you know the story how he bore the body into the strange city and the speech he made as his leader lay and state and how he when the news spread a day of mourning was declared for the whole multiplicity municipality i know how rich poor black and white weak and powerful young and old all came to pay their homage many realizing the leaders worth and their loss only now with his passing and how with his mission done dr bledsoe returned keeping a sorrowful vigil with his friend in a humble baggage car and how the people came to pay their respects at the stations a slow train a sorrowful train and all along the line in mountains and valley wherever the trails found their fateful course the people were one in their common morning and like the cold steel rails were spiked down to their sorrow oh what a sad departure it wouldn't even sat arrival see with me my young friends here with me the weeping and wailing of those who shared his labors their sweet leader returned to them rock cold in the iron in mobility of death he who had left them quickly in the prime of manhood author of their own fire and illumination returned to them cold already a bronze statue oh the despair my young friends that black despair of black people i see them now wandering about these grounds where each brick each bird each blade of grass was a reminder of some precious memory and each memory a hammer strove driving stroke driving home the blunt spikes of their sorrow oh yes some now here i hear a gray head among you still then with a black draped coffin lion and state among them inescapably reminding them they felt the dark night of slavery settled once more upon them they smelt that old obscene stick of darkness that old slavery smell worse than the rank halitosis of a horrory death their sweet light and clothes in a black draped cough and their majestic sun snatched behind a cloud on the sad sound of weeping bugles i can hear them now stationed at the four corners of the campus sounding taps for the fallen general announcing and re-announcing the sad titans telling and retelling the sad revelations one to the other across the still numbness of the air as though they could not believe it can neither comprehend no accepted bugles weeping like a family or tender woman lamenting their loved one and the people came to sing the old songs and to express their unspeakable sorrow black black black black people in the black of morning the fuel funeral crate hung upon their naked hearts singing unashamedly of their black folk songs of sorrow moving painfully overflowing the curving walks weeping and wailing beneath the drooping trees and their low murmuring voices like the moans of wind in the winds in a wilderness and finally they gathered on the hill slope and as far as the tear with eyes could see they stood with their heads bowed singing then silence the lonesome hole banked with poignant flowers a dozen white gloved hands waiting taut upon the silk and ropes that awful silence the final words are spoken a single wild rose tossed farewell bursts slowly its petals drift and snow like upon the reluctantly lowered coffin then down into the earth back into the ancient dust back to the cold black clay mother of us all his barbie paws the silence was so complete that i could hear the power engines far across the campus throbbing the night like an excited pulse somewhere in the audience an old woman's voice began a plaintiff whale the burst birth of a sad unformulated song that died still born in a sob barbie stood with his hand he had thrown back his arms rigid at his sides his fist clenched as though fighting desperately for control dr bledsoe sat with his face in his hands near me someone blew his nose barbie took a tottering step forward oh yes oh yes he said oh yes that too is part of the glorious story but think not think of it not as a death but as a birth a great seed has been planted a seed which has continued to put forth its fruit and season as surely as if the great creator had been resurrected for in a sense he was if not in flesh but in the spirit in a sense in the flesh too for he is not your present leader become his leaving living agent his physical presence look about you if you doubt it my young friends my dear young friends how can i tell you that a man of man this is who leads you how can i convey to you how well he has kept his pledge to the founder how conscientious has been a stewardship first you must see a school as it was already a great institution to be sure but then the buildings were eight now they are twenty then the faculty was fifty now it is two hundred then the student body was a few hundred when now i'm told you are three thousand and now where you have roads of asphalt for the passage of rubber tires then the roads were crushed stone for the passages of auction and mule teams and horse-drawn wagons i have not the words to tell you how my heart swelled to return to this grace to institution after so great a while to move among its wealth of green things its fruitful farmland and fragrant campus ah the marvelous plant supplying power to the area larger than many towns all operated by black bands thus my young friends does the light of the founders still burn your leader has kept his promise a thousand fold i command him in his own right for he is the co-architect of a great noble experiment he is a worthy successor to his great friend it is no accident that his great and intelligent leadership has made him our leading statesman he is a form of greatness worthy of your imitation i say to you pattern yourselves upon him aspire each of you to someday follow in his footsteps great deeds are yet to be performed for we are young though are fast running fast rising people legends are still to be created but not afraid to undertake the burdens of your leader and the work of the founder will be one of ever unfolding story the history of the race a saga of mountain triumphs barbie stood with his arms outstretched now beaming over the audience his buddha-like body still as an onyx boulder there was sniffling throughout the chapel voices murmured with admiration and i felt more lost than ever for a few minutes old barbie had made me see the vision and now i knew that leaving campus would be in like the parting of flesh i watched him lower his arms now and start back to his chair moving slowly with his head cocked as though listening to distant music i'd lowered my head to wipe my eyes when i heard a shocked gasp arise looking up i saw two of the white trustees moving swiftly across the platform to where dr barbie floundered upon dr bledsoe's legs the old man slid forward upon his hands and knees as the two white men took his arms and now as he stood i saw one of them reach for something on the floor and place it in his hands it was when he raised his head that i saw it for a swift instant between the gesture and the opaque glitter of his glasses i saw the blinking of a sightless eyes homer a barbie was blind uttering apologies dr bledsoe helped him to his chair then as the old man rested back with his smile dr bledsoe walked to the edge of the platform and lifted his arms i closed my eyes as i heard the deep moaning sound that issued from him and the rising crescendo of the student body joining in this time it was music sincerely felt not rendered for the guests but for themselves a song of hope and exaltation i wanted to rush from the building but didn't dare i sat stiff and erect supported by the hard bench relying upon it is a f up sorry upon it as upon a form of hope i could not look at dr bledsoe now because old barbie had made me both feel my guilt and accepted for although i had not intended it any act that endangered the continuity of the dream was an act of treason i did not listen to the next speaker a tall white man who kept dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief and repeating his phrases in an emotional and inarticulate manner then the orchestra played excerpts from dvorak's new world symphony and i kept hearing swing low sweet chariot resounding through his dominant theme my mothers and grandfather's favorite spiritual it was more than i could stand and before the next speaker could begin i hurried past the disapproving eyes of teachers and matrons out into the night a mockingbird trailed a note from which it perched upon the hand of the moonlit founder flipping its moon mad tail above its head of the eternal internally kneeling slave i went up to the shadowy drive heard it trill behind me the street lamps glowed brilliant in the moonlight the moonlit dream of the campus each light serene in its cage of shadows i may as well have waited until the end of the services for i hadn't gone far when i heard the damn bright tones of the orchestra making up a march followed by a burst of voices as the students filed out into the night with a feeling of dread i headed for the administration building and upon reaching it stood in the darkened doorway my mind fluttered like the moths that veiled the street lamp which cast shadows upon the blank bank of grass below me i would now have my real interview with dr bledsoe and i recalled barbie's address with a resentment with such words fresh in my mind i was sure dr bledsoe would be far less sympathetic to my plea i stood in the dark and doorway trying to probe my future if i was expelled where would i go what would i do how could i ever return home and that is the end of chapter five finally i feel like this is the longest chapter in history how long was it uh 54 minutes it's like yeah i don't know if we might we've probably read longer chapters in 54 minutes but it felt long because i didn't understand what was going on through the whole thing so now that that's out of the way there was a lot of imagery in the beginning about seasons and i don't know what that was about but anyways our character jack was traveling to the sermon because at the sermon he was supposed to talk to dr bledsoe it becomes apparent he won't be able to talk to him there and instead he will have to talk to him after the ceremony so the ceremony is basically 90 a preacher talking about the founding of the college and how it came to be that bledsoe was in charge after the founder died a lot of details in there uh that i didn't pick up on or understand a lot of it was because of just the way it was written i had to focus so hard on trying to get the words right and also i went to bed at like 3 30 last night so that's my bad oopsies which is why i'm so tired and i kept yawning through it also super boring chapter nothing happened no offense to the author obviously this is clearly a me issue but literally nothing happened in this chapter that i was super interested in i'm sure there's a lot to be gleaned from the pastor's speech but i'm sure it could be summarized in like two sentences and i feel like it was unnecessarily long and you should probably just read the spark notes on what this was about because again i have no idea but anyways after that um what this made our character feel it would seem is guilt because in a way he was kind of feeling what his grandfather had said to him kind of implying that you shouldn't just live to please white people and so what this guy did the pastor who it turns out is blind um which is kind of ironic i think um and i think it's intentionally ironic i think it's supposed to be that he's so passionate about this because he hasn't seen any of the things that have been happening he doesn't have those nuances available to him and he can only see what he feels versus what is actually happening he doesn't see the side-eyed glances he doesn't see how people are treated he only sees well he sees nothing he only sees in his mind's eye what he perceives to be [Music] reality and reality is more than just one or two senses sight is as important as hearing as is important as well smell and taste aren't that important but hearing inside are really critical for communication and if you're missing one of them you're missing a critical element of being able to communicate with the greater populace and that's not to say there's anything wrong with those things or you should criticize those things being blind or being deaf is like obviously disability it's totally um acceptable and fine and all that stuff what i'm not what i'm saying is not any of that what i'm saying is that because of this disability he is incapable of perceiving the reality of situations so when he's giving this heartfelt address he doesn't see all of the bad things that have happened now that's not to say you can't acknowledge them because of course he knows the history but it does seem like it's weird to hear the blind leading the blind but like in a very literal sense but anyways how this made our character feel which is what i meant to get to in the point is that he felt guilty because again his grandfather had said hey you shouldn't just try and satisfy these white people and the pastor here uh i don't remember his name but i i don't know if it's that important um he was saying we need to respect the wishes of the founder we need to go for this noble goal of educating our people and trying to do better because it's what has been this what has been led up to this moment we have this history this beautiful history of us overcoming so many things to get to where we are and it would be stupid basically if you backed off now of that pursuit of succeeding of sabotaging that dream and so it makes our character feel like oh well feeling the way i feel where it's kind of unfair i don't even know where we are i guess where our character is because a lot of this is going to become revealed in the next couple chapters when he talks to bledsoe and how we learn about how he becomes the invisible man so i guess i can't really speculate to this point as to exactly how he feels about it but what he hinted at him feeling was that he couldn't speak his mind because if he spoke his mind he would be betraying that greater goal for the college of educating the people of bringing them to equality so in a sense speaking out against things that are wrong along the way hey there's something wrong here hey there's something where under would undermine the greater message of we need to fight for equality right now we need to be unified so don't be divergent and say things are wrong along the way we need to ignore the things are wrong and push forward towards our goal of having a unified populace now the problem is again the pastor is blind and he doesn't realize that there is no such thing as a future of a unified populace with that current system in place which we learned about because we know the civil rights movement happened right after this book takes place so clearly no one was actually being treated equally um because obviously it was separate but equal but of course never equal it's more equal for uh the people with power and money anyways yeah it's um i'm not gonna be super preachy in this one because i really don't know a lot of what happened here it was all just a really really long sermon and i can't kind of like try and impassionate and make it like easy to listen to and at the same time understand what's going on just because this happens in real life too when i'm listening to any kind of like sermon or past or anything kind of conveyed with a heart in a heartfelt way but extended for a long period of time i literally just can't pay attention to it i don't know what it is um it's probably why i'm an atheist literally just can't listen to it the message is too long to have a point i just can't focus on something that takes you that long to get to um if you're gonna make a point make it quickly because i've got like three seconds of attention span and if you can't get me interested in those three seconds you've wasted my time but then again you know i'm a broken person so ignore that uh that is i think all for today uh sorry this chapter was uninteresting for me and i hope i didn't make it uninteresting for you i tried to give some intonation to the pastor i tried to give characters like voices that would befit the situation even if i screwed it up a little bit um i tried to make it interesting for you even if it wasn't interesting for me so i don't want my biases to be pressed on you but i do want you to know that my summary at the end of this chapter is not adequate for understanding what happened in this chapter you should definitely read into it more again i keep recommending spark notes it's not a sponsor or anything like i said it's literally just somebody went through almost every school book and every book and wrote up chapter summaries and analysis and major themes for you they did all the work it's free they just put it on a website and we're like yeah go do whatever you want with it so anyone can access it go into there read what they have to say it's going to help you understand the material and also if you have this for school it'll help you understand how to write about this chapter and about how this has greater significance to the story because i'm not picking up on any of the nuances you know actual authors went through and analyzed all the writing all of the themes all of the references to things from this period that i don't know because i'm not from that time period so they picked apart all those necessary details and made it really clear and available for you in like three to 20 paragraphs but in like plain english not in like really complicated english not in like flowy like oh i'm trying to make it pretty more and just like this is exactly what it means kind of thing like you don't have to think it's just going to be like right there on the page so yeah i can notice when there's a theme i can notice when there is imagery i cannot notice what that imagery and what that theme kind of mean for the greater story because i'm not an english major i spend my time working with like 3d models so as an engineer i can't tell you much about this book but i can give you my political opinions and how i think this ties into the history of the country um in some way so i'll do my best but you also need to do your part to understanding the material if you really want to know what's going on otherwise it's been fun i will see you in the next chapter uh hopefully something more interesting happens which i'm sure it will i always like when there's actually a conversation i don't like monologues i think monologues and books are really self-serving for any author that writes them i've said this in the past it's very much like here i have an opinion and i'm going to write it out in a really long form because i now have people that are forced to listen to me because they're engaged in the storyline it's a really cheap tactic for getting your point across but also i think the point of this monologue wasn't to represent the author's point of view i think it was meant to be ironic i think it was meant to be uh a part of the story i just have an innate hate of monologues because they're unrealistic for situations i get that a pr like writing a pastor is kind of like setting up a situation for monologue to happen because that's literally all they do but it is a frustrating existence to have to read books with monologues because a monologue is just the most frustrating thing to get through because if you make like 50 points i'm not gonna remember all 50 points 50 points in your monologue i'm gonna catch like one or two of them and repeat them back and it's not going to do it justice and if you have a point to make spread it across the whole book so it gets a greater message don't try and compress it it doesn't work anyways again i'm trying to end this chapter and i just can't i'll see you in the next one guys [Music] goodbye

Channel: Micah Reads

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Id: 8JFP_85o7Zw

Length: 65min 7sec (3907 seconds)

Published: Tue Feb 16 2021