Wednesday, March 23, 2016

"Outdoors was the end of something, an irrevocable, physical fact, defining and complementing our metaphysical condition" (17).

Besides the beautiful writing, this quote stood out to me because of the powerful fact that it carries with it: for an African-American to lose his or her home during the Civil Rights Movement was the worst thing that could happen. "Being put outdoors" also makes it sound as if the African-American tenants of some of these homes are treated like dogs, a shocking, but unfortunately accurate metaphor.

The article that accompanies this photo talks about how landlords would often give their tenants the option of "truck" or "curb" during an eviction. Either they could pay the $350 (money they didn't have) for a moving truck, or all of their furniture would just be dumped on the sidewalk.

"She was a long time with the milk, and gazed fondly at the silhouette of Shirely Temple's dimpled face. Frieda and she had a loving conversation about how cu-ute Shirley Temple was" (19).

Here's an example of white beauty being idealized. I also find it ironic how Pecola is drinking milk out of the cup, a white liquid.

Yes she's cute, but should her beauty really be the ideal because of her skin color?

"Adults, older girls, shops, magazines, newspapers, window signs--all the world had agreed that a blue-eyed, yellow-haired, pink-skinned doll was what every girl child treasured" (20).

Again, white idealization. I'm honestly very curious when the whole of human civilization decided that the Caucasian race was the prettiest. And it still continues today--see Peregrine Falcon's comment earlier this week about the wildly popular skin bleacher that's absurdly marketed in Asia, or how Japanese anime characters appear to be, though they are exaggerated cartoons, white.

Cosmetics companies might share some of the blame for promoting white beauty, but I can't imagine that the root of this cultural phenomenon lies with them.

"There are exceptions, of course--some "critics have remarked on the emotional impact of The Bluest Eye (Bouson 1999, 230)--and thus we can use this novel as a template for the practice of an ethical emotive criticism that connects feeling to thought, in this case to psychological models of racism, stigmatism, judging by appearance, and hierarchies of emotions....Can feelings about ugliness enable white readers to identify with Pecola, become more conscious of the impact of racism generally, and thus better able to resist it" (472).

Having read some of Morrison's work before (Song of Solomon), I definitely understand how her objective tone is supposed to make the reader feel something "profound." And I do think that I experienced some sort of emotional reaction, but I'm curious if what I was feeling was unintentional because the cultural and racial barrier between us prevented me from feeling what Morrison wants the reader to feel. I'm going to try to be more aware of what I'm reading this time around, as well as the context that surrounds it.

"Racially ambiguous students said they had trouble fitting in. 'I've been called Rachel Doleful,' said Kaelan McCone, a freshman from Greensboro, N.C., referring to the white civil rights activist who identified as black" (505).

After our discussion earlier this week, I believe that people of mixed descent, especially from other countries, often have the hardest time because both cultures from which they come from may refuse to except them.