Sympathy for Lee

Throughout DeLillo's Libra, Lee has been portrayed in such a manner that the reader could see him as having been used. The extent by which Lee is being used or is the user is not clear, but towards the end when Ferrie comes to give Lee that final push on the scales, I cannot help but feel sympathy for him. In this scene, Lee does not seem very enthusiastic about the prospect of shooting Kennedy. In fact, it looks like he does not want to do the dirty deed that he is faced with here.

I felt sympathy for Lee when he was being persuaded into killing JFK, but for me one of the most tender and sympathy endorsing moments of the novel occurs after Lee has committed the crime. Lee is in Jail and Marina comes to visit him. When she is thinking back about "the boy she'd married," it is practically heart wrenching. I was one who found myself wishing that Lee would not go to shoot Kennedy, wishing that DeLillo could change the course of history. But as Vonnegut shows in Slaughterhouse Five, the moment is structured this way. DeLillo of course cannot rewrite history. As with Slaughterhouse Five, from the beginning of the novel, we know the climax of the novel and we know how it will end. We know that Lee is going to shoot Kennedy from the window of the Book Depository and is then in turn going to be killed by Jack Ruby. We know that all of this is going to happen, but that in turn made it more painful for me to watch the history play out.

So when Marina comes to the jail and thinks about Lee's progression from the "mild face of the boy she'd married" to "this man with a beak nose and dark eyes, one brow swollen, clothes too big for him. This specter with grey skin. She looked at the lumpy Adam's apple, the prominent nose. His cheeks were sunk under the bones, leaving this nose, tis bird beak. He had to be guilty she thought, to look so bad." This scene is incredibly sad because as the reader, along with Marina, we have watched Lee grow up. We have seen this boy spiral down the wrong path caught up in the momentum of history. And as Marina says, he was a boy that she married. Forced into becoming this man by his circumstances.

"He told her now to buy shoes for June. Don't worry, he said. And kiss the babies for me. The guards got him out of the chair and he walked backwards to the door, watching her until he was gone" (425). The humanity in these few lines is tragic. Especially because we know that Lee holding Marina's gaze until he is taken away is the last time he will see her. DeLillo does an excellent job of playing upon the emotions of the reader. I want so badly for things to turn out well for Lee. In this way, DeLillo has succeeded in bringing light to one other side of the JFK assassination story. In this moment, I see Lee as not being at fault for Kennedy's death. I see him as having been caught up in the movement, a boy whose scales were tipped too soon.

With any great or terrible moment in history, there are many factors leading up to the event. There is rarely ever just a single cause. Lee Harvey Oswald may be pinned as the cause of Kennedy's death, but DeLillo has shown us that no matter what side we take, there was much more at play than simply a lone gunman at the window.

Coincidence?

There is so much going on in the passage where Ferrie comes and talks to Lee about how the time for action in shooting Kennedy has come (382-385). "It was all about him. Everything that happened was him." From an early age, we are taught not to view ourself as the center of the universe, and that it isn't all about us. However, in these last several chapters, it really does seem like it is all about Lee.

Lee points out several coincidental events that point at what he is about to do. He sees the men with the rifles in the hotel lobby, he turns on the tv late at night and watches a movie that he sees as mirroring what he his about to do. I'm sure there are several other coincidental occurrences that are escaping me at the moment, but perhaps the biggest coincidence, the one that sticks out the most, is that Kennedy happens to be coming to Dallas texas and will be driving down the street by the building where Lee works. This is the final straw because the plotters have essentially been waiting for this to happen, but it also is not in their control to plan the route that Kennedy would take. There is an expression "let the chips fall where they may." In this final coincidence, it is as if the chips are falling and landing perfectly.

Ferrie's beliefs might say that this is not coincidence but rather what is predestined to happen. That Lee was meant to shoot Kennedy. Regardless of how the reader views the idea of predestination, DeLillo almost sets it up so that Lee "coincidentally" fits the mold that both the plotters and he himself have created perfectly. Also, in working with all of these greater coincidences in history (for example all of the convenient deaths after Kennedy was shot), DeLillo pushes the reader to believe that there had to have been more to the story than simply a lone gunman.

Lee Harvey Oswald

Lee Harvey Oswald. One of the most notorious names in history to date. In all honesty, before reading Libra I knew very little about the conspiracy theories behind Kennedy's assassination. Sure, I knew that they existed, but I knew next to nothing of the content. In fact, I did not know much about the story at all. However, what my naive self did know was the name of Lee Harvey Oswald, the man who shot Kennedy.

Something that I have found particularly interesting in reading this novel is the reoccurring theme of Lee's name being changed, confused, mixed up, or portrayed as unimportant. Leon, Trotsky, O. H. Lee, Ozzie, and others that are escaping me at the moment are all versions of Lee Harvey Oswalds name. Although it may seem inconsequential, I feel like DeLillo is deliberately using these variations of Lee's name. What the vast uninformed public majority do know about this man is his name. So in lining this story with so many different names for Lee Harvey Oswald, DeLillo emphasizes how little we know about Lee as a person.

Throughout the novel, I have gotten the sense that to Lee, it is not so important that people know Lee's name but rather know who he his and know about him. It also seems like he has an inflated sense of self importance in the eyes of his higher powers. He assumes that everyone in the FBI and CIA and such are watching him and know all about him. In fact, when he writes a threatening note to the FBI telling them to stop bothering his wife, he doesn't even sign the note (375). Yet they will know that the note is from Lee, even without his name on the note.

A mere page turn later, the reader learns about the "Oswald doubles." In this case, the name becomes more important because these lookalikes are identified as Oswald only in name. Because a picture of a double is labelled "Oswald" it suddenly has credibility regardless of who the actual person in the photo is. This is ironic because here we see that Lee's name is becoming more important to the plotters as he himself becomes less important.

Fiction as History

Although initially I felt like DeLillo's Libra was too long and tedious of a read to be placed at the end of the course, as the story plays out I can see the necessity of placing Libra at the end of the syllabus. Not only is Lee Harvey Oswald one of the most notorious names in history, but also Kennedy's assassination is recent enough that as a modern day reader I can easily visualize this historical event playing out in my mind.

With some of the other novels that we have read in this course there were clear aspects of "fiction" and other more clear aspects of "history" (in particular Slaughterhouse Five and Kindred). Also, in most of the other novels if there has been a "main character," he/she has not been a historical figure to have actually existed or to have played as significant of a role in large-scale history. In each historical fiction novel there is the element of mystery because we can never know for sure what all did and did not happen if it was not recorded. However, having Lee and his story be the main focus of Libra has been captivating because this story fits so well into the gaps of the historical account.

In class early today (Friday) we watched the footage of Kennedy's assassination. While this was on loop, I couldn't help but view the video in the context of DeLillo's version of the event. The blend of history and fiction is so smooth in Libra that because this real footage exists, I am more inclined to entertain the possibility that DeLillo's account holds as much if not more truth than the official record. As we have also mentioned in class, the numerous coincidences in the actual historical event that are played upon in the novel makes one question if all of these ironic twists of fate are in fact somehow directly related.

In terms of work load, I would have preferred to read Libra earlier in the semester, but I do agree that the placement of this book at the end nicely wraps up the course. This novel is so much the perfect example of historical fiction because it plays upon the idea that much of the actual recorded history as we know it could be fiction. DeLillo works with the tantalizing thought that no matter how much of the Kennedy assassination case is studied, historians can never know for sure what happened if there is no record. No one will ever know for sure the conspiracy that may have gone on in secret behind the scenes.

The Map Quest

A very crucial scene in Octavia Butler’s Kindred is when Dana has been drawn back into Rufus’s time and has a map of Maryland with her. Rufus wants Dana to burn the map and says that she would be in great trouble if his father saw her with the map. When she doesn’t want to burn it, he blackmails her by saying that he won’t mail the letter to Kevin until she burns the map. The paragraphs following are particularly key.

I did not fully see how important the scene is and how much this couple of paragraphs foreshadows until after I had finished the book.

“He waited, watching me. I wanted to ask him what he would do with my letter if I didn’t burn the map. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to bear an answer that might send me out to face another patrol or earn another whipping. I wanted to do things the easy way if I could.”

After dropping the map into the fire, Dana says

“’I can manage without it you know,’ I said quietly. ‘No need for you to,’ said Rufus. ‘You’ll be all right here. You’re home.’” (143).

When I first read this scene, Rufus and Dana were kind of scaring me because I felt like their relationship could turn ugly with this new element of blackmailing each other. Now after finishing the book, other elements pop out at me. Dana says that she wants to do things the easy way. Which makes sense of course since she wants to avoid a whipping. However, it also shows a major sign of Dana breaking with the system. Later in Kindred, Alice asks Dana if she would go to Rufus and she says no. I think that Dana really does mean what she says and is acting honestly in the moment, but based on what we have seen, it makes us wonder if push came to the shove, would Dana go to him to avoid all of the physical pain.

Thus near the end when Dana is in such a situation, she thinks about how easy it would be to let Rufus rape her and although this is very disturbing, it makes more sense that she would have those thoughts.

The ambiguous first line of the prologue was also brought up during class, “I lost an arm on my last trip home” (9). In the beginning, we assume that “home” is the present day.  However, in light of Rufus’s later comment that she is home on the plantation with him, the ambiguity of the line shines forth. I think that this first line is quite intentionally ambiguous and so much so that the reader isn’t supposed to know which “home” it is referring to. It seems as though the point is that at this point, Dana has spent so much time and become so assimilated and attached in the past that even she does not know what to consider “home” anymore.

Oh Rufe.

Throughout the novel, I had been holding out for Rufus despite his later atrocities. I couldn’t help but have hope that he would turn out different from his father and not become the typical slaveholder. Looking at this all realistically, Rufus does treat his slaves much better than most of the slaveholders of the time. And I realize the necessity of taking into account that he is a product of his time, but since he has been exposed to these radical future ideals, it’s almost like a slap in the face. If Rufus, who has this  greater exposure, cannot beat the system of slavery in the south, who can?

The final scene between Rufus and Dana does not seem like the "final showdown" between the good and evil characters. This scene is much too sick and twisted to be at all glorified in my mind. I am having an extremely difficult time wrapping my head around this scene because so much is going on, both explicitly and subtly.

There are so many levels of complexity working together in this last scene. Rufus is going to rape Dana, his descendant. Dana is thinking about how easy it would be to let Rufus rape here. He doesn't want to hurt her, but he and she both know that he can and will if she resists. As it is, Dana and Rufus have had a very complicated relationship throughout his entire life. For Dana, she has been with Rufus almost continuously for the past several months, only going back to her own time for a few days. However,  Rufus has had Dana with him in relatively short chunks of time over the past twenty some years of his life.

Dana seems to think that they both need each other equally, she even says at one point that Kevin "doesn't understand how much they need each other" (or something to that effect). While it may be true that they both need each other, their roles in each others lives are extremely complex and differ drastically for each character. Both literally need the other to survive, Rufus needs Dana to keep saving his life and Dana needs Rufus to start her family blood line. However, Dana starts out as more of a motherly figure for Rufus and then as their age gap closes he begins to view her in more of a romantic way as the emotional half to his physical relationship with Alice. Thus making their relationship even more twisted.

It's difficult for me to talk about the relationship between Dana and Rufus in light of the final scene without ending up confused and feeling slightly nauseous. There is so much to discuss but in the end it all boils down to context. Rufus has spend his entire life raised in this awful oppressive system, and though what he does makes me sick, I can't help but feel sorry for him. Octavia Butler has succeeded in making me even more disgusted in what the antebellum south does to people and how easily humanity is broken.

Forgiving

The recurrent theme in Octavia Butler’s Kindred of Dana forgiving Rufus came up several times during class discussions. This got me thinking more about the relationship between Dana and Rufus. It is easier to think that I would not have forgiven Rufus so easily for his repeat offenses. However, after further consideration, it makes more sense to me that Dana would forgive him so readily.

This change in my viewpoint came when I considered my own first experience in a setting so different from my own but with obvious culture ties. The summer after my freshman year of high school, I went on an Appalachian Service Project trip with a church that a family friend belongs to. We went to Inez, Kentucky to help repair the house of a family living in severe poverty. To give a bit of context, this town is almost entirely white. I was told that there was only one black family in the entire county. I spent a lot of time playing with the children of the family whose house I was working on. For me this was interesting because I have a little sister who was the same age as one of the children. These little six and seven year old girls went around dropping F-bombs and swearing like mad at everyone and everything because they didn’t know any better. At home, I would have been appalled and never would have tolerated my sister treating me in that way, but because of the context that I was in, I found myself instead forgiving these children and feeling sad for them as I tried to set them a good example.

Obviously my experience in KY was nothing like Dana’s experience on the Weylin Plantation, but I can say that because of this I was able to understand Dana’s readiness to forgive perhaps not only because of her familial and emotional ties, but also because the context is so different from what she is used to.

Simple Moments

As we touched on in class, throughout Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five the lack of explicitly explained emotions allows for the reader to experience their own emotions during the course of the novel. I found this book to be incredibly touching. I suppose that I tend to be easily moved by novels, but this one was powerful in a different way that I attribute to the moments that Vonnegut chooses to include in telling Billy Pilgrim's stories.

Vonnegut's portrayal of World War II and the outlook on human nature tended to leave me with a bleak feeling about the terrors of this world. So it was the moments of pure and simple humanity in Slaughterhouse-Five that illicited the strongest emotional reactions in me. Hopefully this example is not getting old, but the scene in the prenatal malt syrup factory where Billy sneaks Derby a spoonful of syrup "and then Derby burst into tears" is quite powerful (205).

Another similarly emotional moment is when Billy and a few other Americans are in the back of a horse drawn wagon and are going to look through Dresden's remains to see if anything is there worth salvaging. Billy lies in the back of the wagon asleep in the sun, enjoying what he might have chosen to be "his happiest moment" (249). A short time later, a couple of German doctors notice the poor condition of the horses pulling the wagon and scold Billy for their treatment. "When Billy saw the condition of his means of transportation, he burst into tears. He hadn't cried about anything else in the war." Because there are very few moments in the novel where a character cries, the moments when there are tears shed have a much stronger impact on the reader. In both of these cases, it is as if the men are unable to fully process or let themselves be vulnerable to their own emotional reactions to the horrors of the war that they have witnessed. So, their layers of masked and hidden feelings only show through when a small act of humanity occurs.

4 Dimensions

"That was I. That was me. That was the author of this book" (160). By occasionally inserting himself into the novel, Vonnegut adds a fourth dimension to Slaughterhouse Five. It is as if Vonnegut wants the reader to see the novel from a bit of a Tralfamadorian perspective, since they see in four dimensions all the time.

It is difficult for the Tralfamadorians to explain to humans how they see the world, because humans only see the world in three dimensions. I feel like Vonnegut is showing us how difficult it is to write a "war novel" that the reader will understand because there are "four dimensions" to war, one of which could be the experience of actually being there. It is impossible to fully explain this "fourth dimension" of the war to someone who was not experiencing it for themselves. So Slaughterhouse-Five is Vonnegut's "failed" attempt to portray a dimension or war that only exists for those who were part of the structured moments in the war.

Another example of how Vonnegut uses this fourth dimension would be the science fiction aspect and his similarities as an author to his main character Billy Pilgrim. "So they were trying to reinvent themselves and their universe. Science Fiction was a big help" (128). Billy Pilgrim is using science fiction as an escape from his reality. Vonnegut does the same. Vonnegut reinvents his war experience by means of science fiction. In fact, science fiction could be seen as another fourth dimension in the novel.

The reader cannot hope to fully grasp Vonnegut's fourth dimension of war, which is his experience of being there. Thus Vonnegut uses science fiction and the elements of time travel and Tralfamadorians as a fourth dimension to this "war story" so that the reader can at least begin to understand the experience of war (and in particular the bombing of Dresden) from a perspective that does not only see the typical, or "three dimensional," depiction.

Vonnegut and Zusak in cohorts?

As I began getting into Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, I was strongly reminded of Markus Zusak's novel The Book Thief. The Book Thief is set in Germany during WWII and gives the story of several civilians during the war. The narrator is Death. This is a strange way to narrate, but adds an element of "science fiction" that is similar to using Tralfamadore in a war novel. Both of these books seem to use their respective unrealistic aspects in order to make less honorable and more gruesome parts of the war have a stronger impact in the readers mind.

Right away, I noticed several similarities between the two novels and wondered if perhaps the two others might have fed off of each others ideas at all. After doing a little research, I did not find any conclusive evidence but did find a quote from Time Magazine agreeing with the similarities I am seeing "Zusak doesn’t sugarcoat anything, but he makes his ostensibly gloomy subject bearable the same way Kurt Vonnegut did in Slaughterhouse-Five: with grim, darkly consoling humor.” 


 In Slaughterhouse-Five, the Tralfamadorians discuss the structure of a moment like being stuck in amber. No one can change what happens because that is just how it is structured and always has and always will be. The Book Thief also gives a great importance to moments, but the narrator of Death describes them in terms of colors. Both novels also jump around quite a bit. Vonnegut has Billy Pilgrim jumping through time much more than Zusak uses this element, but Death also jumps around in time in his narrations.

The most striking similarity I found in Vonnegut and Zusak's style of telling a "war story" was the approach of flat out telling what is going to happen to a character before it happens, in particular telling how and when a character is going to die. In both novels, this worked to break the hope of the reader who is holding onto the possibility that said characters will make it through. There is always a part of me that wants the happy, or at least satisfying, ending for a character so knowing about their death in advance makes it sadder for me when it actually happens. Knowing and being reminded of Derby's death so often makes it difficult and all the more heart wrenching to read passages where Derby is writing to his wife not to worry because he "will be home soon."

Although Vonnegut and Zusak may not have been in cohorts while writing their books, both approach the "war novel" from a very different angle. Neither glorifies the war but rather present it in a way that makes WWII look pathetic and something to be ashamed of on both sides.

The token white and black guys

Although it may seem like a strange comparison W. W. and Thor Wintergreen both play similar roles but on opposite ends of the color spectrum (literally and figuratively) in Reed's Mumbo Jumbo. It was brought up in class that Thor is like the token white guy. Some of the group members are wary of having Thor involved because of his race, however Berbelang stands up for him. Because of this reaction, the argument could be made that Berbelang wants Thor to be part of the Mu'tafikah so that they will have caucasian representation among their ranks.

I do not like how Reed let Thor's story play out. Thor appeared to be quite genuine in his motives for joining and helping the Mu'tafikah. While it may be true that he had not yet proven himself to the rest of the group, it seemed as though he would step up to the plate when given the opportunity. Instead, he caved in to Musclewhite sickeningly quickly. The points that Musclewhite made in order to persuade Thor to join his (the dark) side were supposed to make Berbelang look bad, and apparently to Thor this worked but to the reader it just made Berbelang look better. Musclewhite describes him as "The insolent freeman who will sit in the front of the bus and look about as if to say 'who don't like it?'" Rosa Parks anyone? In a modern day context Musclewhite's words do not sound so outrageous, making it even worse for Thor to have been so fickle. In light of this situation, the "token white guy" plays his part well showing that he is no more worthy of respect than the rest of the Wallflower group.

So how does this character of Thor related to the character of W. W? W. W. holds the role of the "token black guy" even more so than Thor. However, the main difference between what Thor and W.W. do for the novel is that Thor reinforces the idea that all of the white characters are the same, while W.W. helps to show how different the black characters are.

Woodrow Wilson is originally from Mississippi and moves to Harlem looking for a change from his ordinary life. W. W. has not yet been integrated into the Harlem Renaissance culture. In fact, he is less knowledgable on this subject matter than most of the white characters. Hinkle Von Vampton posts the sign "Negro Viewpoint Wanted" and W. W. takes the job. Hinkle assumes that all negro viewpoints are the same. He only needs this position filled so that his magazine will be somehow more credible now having  the "token black guy." His ignorance will only prove him wrong. W.W. seems only to go along with their requests because he doesn't know any better. Thus when his reverend father comes and takes him back to MS, the reader sees how different the environment that W.W. has been raised in is and sees that no matter what Hinkle wants of him, he could never effectively be the sought out Talking Android.

History as we [don't] know it

When I first pondered an answer to the question "what is the difference between fiction and history?" I focused mainly on the standards for a history compared to the standards for fiction. History is often thought of as fact-based while fiction thought of as "made-up." However, my closing thought was that fiction can also have as many truths as a history might, in which case they would not be so different. In light of having read Doctorow's Ragtime, I agree even more with my previous sentiment.

I am not saying that fiction and history are one and the same, but I am agreeing with Doctorow and White that they are closely intertwined. A fiction does not claim to be constructed entirely by events that "actually happened." The reader is not put under any illusions that there is a fact somewhere to back up what the author is saying. In Doctorow's essay "False Documents," there is a closing interview in which he says "I don't take a vow to be responsible. I'm under the illusion that all of my inventions are quite true. For instance, in Ragtime, I'm satisfied that everything I made up about Morgan and Ford is true, whether it happened or not." This is an incredibly bold statement that Doctorow makes. At first glance it might even seem outrageous. Yet he touches on the idea that something can have truth whether or not it "happened."

It is part of human nature for our understanding of the world to be based upon our metanarratives. No one's reality is going to be formed by the exact same metanarratives, but there are some broader concepts and narrations that affect the perceptions of many. History certainly plays a large role in these metanarratives, but I would argue that fiction plays an equally substantial part. Who is to say what "really happened" when every story is multifaceted? Is giving a partial truth the same as a lie? Doctorow's novel is considered to be fiction but is based both on historical and fictional events. In a sense, it could be argued that everything is fiction. The way we understand the world is no different than how Doctorow writes Ragtime; built upon history and fiction.

Finally, the idea that our metanarratives are formed by both fiction and history brings up the idea that history itself is built upon fiction. Humans make history. Humans record history. Humans understand history based upon our metanarratives. Since our metanarratives come from a combination of history and fiction, history as we see it is also a kind of fiction.

"Brother"

Throughout Doctorow's Ragtime, the character of Younger Brother plays an important role in connecting the different worlds that Doctorow has created. Younger brother has a presence throughout the novel that cannot be ignored. From the beginning he is an allusive and mysterious member of the New Rochelle family but he branches out beyond the family and becomes part of the snippets of other stories that Doctorw gives us. Such as becoming Evelyn Nesbit's lover and eventually a fan of Emma Goldman anarchist ideas. Later on, younger brother becomes deeply intertwined with Coalhouse Walker and his story.

Coalhouse walker also connects several of the different character plots. When he "captures" J.P. Morgan's library, he is also bringing Morgan and those affiliated with him back into the picture. Along with being a means of helping all of the smaller meta-narratives come together, there are several parallells between younger brother and coalhouse walker. Both have loved a woman of whom they have lost due to circumstances out of their control. They also both see apparent problems in the justice system and how society functions (Younger Brother is influenced heavily by Emma Goldman's teachings).

It could be argued that Younger Brother becomes a follower of Coalhouse in part because of the similarities between them (since Doctorow does not explicitly mention their parallels, perhaps it is a subconscious understanding).

The novel really starts heating up (pun noted) when Coalhouse sets off an explosion at the fire station and begins killing other firemen with no differentiation. Before this event, Younger Brother has been a meek sort of character that has not yet found himself, but is exploring outside the bounds of the "safety" of the New Rochelle middle class society. After Coalhouse's first strike, there is a crucial scene between Father and Younger Brother where they get into a heated discussion over the justifications of what Coalhouse Walker has done.  In this scene, Doctorow refers to Younger Brother simply as "Brother." "Brother stood up so abruptly that his chair fell over." He then goes on to criticize the hypocritical statements that Father has just made. Perhaps Doctorow did not have a particular reason for dropping "Younger" from Brother's title, but it helps to show that in this key scene Brother is moving away from his relatives and becoming his own person.

Brother goes on to join Coalhouse, becoming a follower again but of a different kind. Then he goes off on his own and wanders without a desired outcome. He never truly finds himself in the sort of situation where he believes in something strongly enough to stand up against what he knows. He stays titled as "Younger Brother," symbolically showing that his moment of self-actualization has passed. He finds himself in the throngs of the Mexican Revolution fighting for causes more because of the fight than his belief in the cause itself. The end for Younger Brother is a slightly more positive one because he seems to have found another outlet for his skills and even shows his own leadership in leading guerrilla raids. "He was respected by the zapatistas but was thought also to be reckless" (Doctorow 305). It is with a positive note that Younger Brother has earned himself respect, but also sad that his recklessness stems from loosing everything (and thus having nothing to loose).

It would be absurd to claim that Doctorow's Ragtime is about one thing. However, in light of Younger Brother's story I think it is fair to say that the theme of pushing, breaking away from, and finding ways around the constraints of society is a key element in this novel.

Father: A man of his times.

Throughout Coalhouse Walker's appearances in Doctorow's Ragtime, Father has shown mixed signals. Initially Father hates Coalhouse because of the nerve that this colored man shows (nerve in the sense that he is a respectable, car-owning black man). Eventually as Mother and the rest of the family get caught up in the courtship of Coalhouse to Sarah, Father begins to partake in the excitement. When the fire incident occurs Father bails Coalhouse out of jail. At this point I gained more respect for Father because he shows some moral fiber.

However, as soon as the homicidal destruction of the firehouse takes place, Father becomes disenchanted. It seemed like the other family members we under the courtship "spell" but saw the romance for its true beauty. Father on the other hand participated more because of the happiness that it brought Mother. Now that that Coalhouse has stricken back at the Firemen, Father's previous feelings indicating some respect have disappeared. During the courtship, father seemed to be much more progressive in his nature and behavior than before. The event of revenge pushes father several steps back as seen when he lashes out at mother for her "sentimentality." The point of Coalhouse's act may have been to show the white people not to disregard a black man's issues simply because of his race. The effect on father simply reaffirms his racist ideals. Father wonders if "his dislike for Coalhouse Walker, which had been instantaneous, was based not on the man's color but on his being engaged in an act of courtship..."

For this reason, I found it particularly ironic when later in the story Father discusses himself as a "progressive" man saying that he thinks colored people could be equal to white people. In speaking of his forward ideas though, it shows how deeply ingrained racism has been in Fathers upbringing.

Some Fictional and Historical Reflections

Does knowing that something is fiction or history change how I see a novel or story? When we were first discussing the relationship between history and fiction in class and the prospect of knowing  whether or not an event or character is "real" or "made up" I did not think that this knowledge would make much of a difference for me. However, now that I am more aware of this debate, I think that knowing that an event actually occurred can make a huge difference it is viewed.

During this years student productions, one of the plays was a musical about the dutch tulip mania. One of my family members saw the performance and thought this play was nice, but did not realize that the tulip mania was a historical event. While the story was creative and clever in itself, upon learning about the actual tulip mania, my family had a much greater respect for the musical. At this point, I realized that knowing something "actually happened" does indeed make a difference in my appreciation of the story.

I have greatly enjoyed E. L. Doctorow's Ragtime thus far, but while reading this novel and taking into consideration the historical and fictional elements, I have come to question the novel more than I might if I knew for certain which aspects were fictional and which real. Doctorow does such an excellent job blending the fiction with the history that it is not always clear what actually happened. For example, the character of Coalhouse Walker is fictional in that no person with his name and background ever existed in this world. To me though, this character seems more real and human than many of the characters in the novel. Perhaps it is in part because his views and behavior are more strongly aligned with that of current times that I find him more sympathetic. But then again, another factor contributing to my sympathy is certainly that I know of "pranks" in history of the same nature and caliber as the one "pulled" on him. 

At first I was disappointed when I did a google search on Coalhouse Walker and discovered that he only exists in Ragtime but after further consideration I realized that it makes sense for Doctorow to have created this character. In history, there has only ever been one Harry Houdini; no one else in history even comes close to comparing to Houdini and the art he created, fame, publicity, attention, and awe that he received. Even today Emma Goldman is the face of anarchy. Who doesn't know about the one and only J.P. Morgan. Ford invented the assembly line. All of these historical figures that Doctorow draws upon are well-known for something that they (and only they) have done. There have been one of each of them whereas there have been many Coalhouse Walkers to walk through the early 20th century. In not utilizing one particular history of a situation similar to Coalhouse Walker's, Doctorow allows Coalhouse to represent all of the colored people who were treated in such a disturbing manner.

Knowing what is historical and what is fictional does make a difference in how I view the given situation. Oftentimes I find historical characters in a novel more compelling, but Doctorow has impressed me by showing that sometimes knowing something is fictional can make it all the more powerful.