Perceiving Free-Will in Lilith's Brood

Perhaps one of the most frustrating and long-debated philosophical inquiries is the notion of whether or not humans have free-will. The more science progresses, it seems the more that our notion of free-will is threatened; with every biological advance, we can liken ourselves more and more to machines, rather than some separate, special and mysterious force within nature. This puts science in a very interesting position: simultaneously demystifying the human, while at the same time continuing to spawn several questions through its answering of just one, in a Hydra-regenerative process, leading thinkers to consider just how we became so complex in the first place. There seems to be little room for free-will in almost any scientific discipline. Yet, its complete absence can be a frightening concept. I submit that, while we cannot – and may never – definitively prove either the absence or presence of free-will within a human being, we can be sure of a human’s perception of free-will, which serves an identical purpose as free-will itself. Through a close reading of several philosophical works, as well as Octavia Butler’s Lilith’s Brood, the differences and similarities between free-will and the perception thereof will hopefully be made somewhat more clear.

I am completely sure that I operate under the absolute perception of free-will and, to me, that works just as well. In On Human Nature, sociobiologist Edward O. Wilson argues that it is probable, although not within the current constraints of human intelligence, to predict the future of a human being “with an accuracy exceeding pure chance” (Wilson, pg 73, actually referring to honeybees, but he makes the humanoid comparison in the very next paragraph). His concept is that the honey bee, within the constraints of its particular CNS, has the perception of free-will, although it is possible for humans, whom arguably have a larger, more aware and intuitive CNS, to see that the honey bee is simply responding to external stimuli in an extremely predictable manner. Wilson then postulates that what humans are able to do to honey bees, in terms of fatalist reductionism, could theoretically be done to us “[b]ut only [with] techniques beyond our present imagining could [we] hope to achieve even the short-term prediction of the detailed behavior of an individual human being, and such an accomplishment might be beyond the capacity of any conceivable intelligence” (Wilson, pg 73). Octavia Butler has conceived, at least figuratively, of such intelligence within the Oankali in Lilith’s Brood. She is less concerned with the allegorical human study of the honey bee than she is with what the honey bee feels when we present it with our prescient data (it also may be worthwhile to mention that to do this, we would have to figure out a way to make the data digestible to a honey bee, which cannot read scientific papers or understand graphs, and, unless we can learn to relay abstract concepts with waggle dances, this may be even more difficult than the initial prediction). 

Here, it should be pointed out, Wilson is operating erroneously, attributing human-specific entities (the notion of free-will) to non-human beings (a honeybee). We cannot, with any certainty, say that a honeybee experiences free-will any more than we can say that it experiences happiness or depression (we can barely even say it experiences a flower in the same way we do). This is especially dangerous because the notion can be extrapolated (and Wilson certainly does this) further and folded back to pertain to humans again, providing false insight and thereby justifying human actions. These human actions are vindicated in such a way that they completely beg the question: many of Wilson’s acumens then become completely circular arguments, succumbing to massive logical fallacy. R. C. Lewontin has already acknowledged that Wilson conflates homology and analogy (Lewontin, 95). This is his first error. Wilson’s second error is that he uses these perceived analogies to animal behavior to justify human behavior: clearly, our behavior, however distasteful as it may be, has evolved from millions upon millions of years of selection and is evident in primordial form in lower taxonomies, therefore it is just human nature and we should perhaps be less hell-bent on trying to improve or change it. So, to review, Wilson takes a human behavior, exclaims “Hey, look! Bears do something like that!” and then rushes towards “It must be OK that we do it,” which is based purely and exclusively on the fact that we do it.

And so, it goes without saying that Wilson’s treatment of the perception of free-will is subject to the same error. He assumes that honeybees experience their own version of free-will, based on the fact that humans do. He operates under the assumption that honeybees can only experience either free-will, or the absence of free-will. It does not seem to occur to Wilson that none of this might even cross a honeybee’s mind. I.e. there is a fundamental difference between “Oh, it’s time to gather honey” and “I think I’ll go gather some honey now.”(A serious precursor for the perception of free-will is probably being sentient.) However factually erroneous, Wilson’s honeybee example at the very least serves as an excellent analogy for human perceptions of free-will. One of my favorite science-related quotes is Emerson Pugh’s[1] “if the human mind were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we wouldn’t” (Pugh, 154). Wilson is pretty much[2] advocating the same idea: No, we probably don’t have free-will. In fact, the whole idea of free-will is pretty silly when you consider how we are just bundles of neurons or rather, just electricity.

But, on the other hand, we are conscious, as we define it. However, we are conscious only to a certain extent. Meaning that, on the whole, the majority of actions and reactions humans perform are subconscious and on a molecular level and are impossible for us, or anything we build, to compute in either retrospect or real-time. In the same way, you can perceive a wave crashing, the computation of which is nearly impossible and would involve mind-numbing physics, and still know that the way in which the wave crashes depends only on a few simple rules: the interaction of partially charged water molecules with one another and the salts and minerals in the ocean, the topography of the ocean floor, the gravitational pull of both the moon and the earth, and so on. The wave fits into none of our definitions of free-will. Yet such computations are reserved for chaos theory, and involve the physical computational cop-out called “turbulence.” Our own myriad stimuli and their corresponding responses compose a matrix which we call free-will. ‘Free-will’ is very much a way for us to deal with our own turbulence and it becomes increasingly mollifying towards our psyche in the face of mounting scientific evidence that we are no more than mind-blowingly complex computing machines (but just not complex enough to compute ourselves). Thus, free-will becomes something of a coping mechanism for the crushing recognition that the concept of human ‘specialness’ is itself a coping mechanism. At least for Wilson, we cannot transcend our perception of free-will: we just aren’t equipped for it. 

According to this treatment of free-will, I submit that the free-will and the perception of free-will are functionally identical. Whether I actually choose to do something or I simply (/complexly) react in a ‘conceivably’ predictable manner to either short- or long-term stimuli is trivial if I believe that I have chosen it. Given two otherwise identical beings, one with true free-will and another with only a perception of free-will, the two should react identically to a given subset of stimuli.

Octavia Butler seems intrigued by these concepts. In Lilith’s Brood, humans have their perception of free-will threatened.  They are put on a simulation of Earth, and blatantly told and reminded that it is only a simulation of Earth. However, they nearly immediately begin to question whether or not the simulation is the real Earth: they begin to seek to restore their perception of free will. Within the novel, this reaction is perpetuated by the fact that the simulation is completely undetectable as a simulation: it resembles Earth in every way possible. Being hereto captive, the humans revert to thinking that perhaps they are being lied to, and in fact they are on the actual Earth. This is completely separate from their actual free-will, because they are told from the beginning that it is not real Earth and that they are aboard a spaceship. However, they seek the edges of the simulation, presumably operating under the assumption that if they cannot find an edge or an end – anything slightly artificial – their perception of free-will will be restored. 

Like most things, Lilith’s Brood is in engaging with many of Martin Heidegger’s ideas. The humans in the spaceship are indeed ‘thrown’ into a new world, one in which they must build truth purely and only upon history. Their truth can only come to them through a thorough understanding of what happened: how did they get there, what are these things, should they feel weird about having sex with them? The sexual relationships seemed particularly pertinent to Hedegger’s idea of authenticity: having sex with aliens was simply not something one did, yet the very ability to either choose or not choose to do it (even if the choice went along with the they), was still exercising autonomy and therefore free-will. Except, in a very interesting point in Lilith’s Brood, Butler tests these preceptions: 

                 “He pulled his arm free ‘You said I could choose. I’ve made my choice!’

               “You have, yes…you see. Your body has made a different choice” (Butler 189).

Butler is drawing a very subtle line here – she is approaching the very threshold that exists between conscious reactions and subconscious reactions. Through this exposure, the Oankali hope to enlighten humans as to how calculating they really are, to rid them of their perception of free-will, in hope that it will liberate them from their ‘conflicts.’ 

Heidegger would probably not view this as a possibility. Heidegger’s entire philosophy in Being and Time seems based upon a notion of freedom – no matter how he tried to define it – the central concept of fallen Dasein, authenticity and resoluteness all stem from the perception of choosing – all actions come from making (or believing to make) a choice and how we then choose to deal with our choice once we have made it (itself its own choice). Even choosing to do what “they” do, to follow flock, is itself an authentic choice, as Dasein chooses to be one thing and not another. In this way, Heidegger would find serious error with Wilson’s treatment of free-will. Heidegger believes that the very act of asking whether or not we bother considering our free will is evidence that we, in fact, have and employ it, as the very inquiry is an example of “anxiety [which] makes manifest in Dasein its Being towards its ownmost potentiality-for-Being – that is, its Being-free for the freedom of choosing itself and taking hold of itself. Anxiety brings Dasein face to face with its Being-free for” (Heidegger, 188). Through Heidegger’s philosophy, the human’s in Lilith’s Brood are showing autonomy and free-will purely by questioning the Oankali’s notions and beliefs – and even being anxious about what their own bodies “choose” for them. If they have lost anything, perhaps they have lost only their perception of free-will, and not, as Heidegger sees it, their free-will itself.

Herbert Marcuse, a once-student of Heidegger’s, echoes Wilson’s recognition of transcendence, stating that “[a]ll liberation depends on the consciousness of servitude, and the emergence of this consciousness is always hampered by the predominance of needs and satisfactions which, to a great extent, have become the individual’s own” (Marcuse, 7). Marcuse’s entire critique of modern civilization calls for modern society to transcend methods of control that are currently inescapable: to see their surroundings as ‘oppressive’ no matter what view may be intuitive, and transcend beyond the dichotomy of capitalism and communism. As both focus on some sort of freedom, we can perhaps see parallels already between Wilson’s and Marcuse’s ideas. Marcuse would certainly argue that humans have free-will, but would state that we too often confuse free-will and the perception of free-will. Or, in other words, Marcuse would argue that society has the potentiality for free-will, which they can only achieve and exercise once they realize how atrophied it has become. Wilson thinks such transcendence is impossible: consider Pugh’s quote, altered to fit into a more Marcusean theory: “If our society were so simple that we were able to ameliorate it, we would be so simple that we couldn’t.” Wilson would argue that such a transcendence as what Marcuse calls for is impossible: transcending our own society is impossible, as our society is bounded by itself and was never built nor meant to understand and systematically improve itself (only to understand and systematically improve individuals within the society: and even then, improve for whom). 

Again, Butler seems cognizant of her philosophical forbearers. In Lilith’s Brood, an alien race (the higher-intelligence that Wilson alluded to regarding our free-will perception) is trying to change our society – reboot it in such a way that we transcend our “human contradiction” and begin a society that is eerily close to Marcuse’s utopia: “society would be rational and free to the extent to which it is organized, sustained, and reproduced by an essentially new historical Subject,” (Marcuse, 252) one where “the productive apparatus [is] organized and directed toward the satisfaction of vital needs, its control might well be centralized; such control [does] not prevent individual autonomy, but render[s] it possible” (Marcuse, 2).

So, is there freedom within Lilith’s Brood? Heidegger would of course argue yes, as the humans question themselves and their surroundings, but Heidegger often blurs freedom of thought and freedom of choice a bit liberally. Wilson would say that it depends on whose point of view the question is being asked from. If the Oankali are to answer regarding humans, then of course, no. If the humans are to answer regarding themselves, then of course, yes, as they are operating beneath an inescapable perception of free-will, fundamentally and functionally identical to actual free-will. Marcuse would become irate at the very suggestion that they might be free.

The notion of free-will perception approaches Marcuse’s analysis of contemporary culture by creating problems within his diagnosis. Marcuse states that modern man is not free, and cannot be free (from advertising, capitalism, materialism, etc.) until he realizes that he is not free. This insinuates that modern man does not realize that he is not free. Even if he is indeed unfree, modern man (with, I suppose, Marcuse excluded) is operating under the perception of freedom. Is there a quantifiable difference in the functional quality of an individual’s life if he operates beneath a perception of freedom, rather than actual freedom? Is the difference purely immaterial and ideological? One cannot simply loose this perception of freedom and assume that he has also lost freedom itself, subsequently concluding that his fellow man must also be operating beneath similar assumptions. Which brings me to another question: can one have free-will but not the perception of free-will? Or, rather, can one have freedom and not the perception of freedom? I suspect that the distinction between the two is why Marcuse and Wilson clash so irrefutably.

Butler, Octavia E. Lilith’s Brood. New York City: Grand Central Publishing, 1989

Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. Trans. John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson. New York: Harper Collins, 1962.

Lewontin, R.C. Biology as Ideology. Concord: Harper Perennial, 1991.

Marcuse, Herbert. One-Dimensional Man. Boston: Beacon Press, 1964.

Pugh, George. The Biological Origin of Human Values. New York: Basic Books, 1977.

Wilson, Edward O. On Human Nature. Cambridge (Mass.): Harvard University Press, 2004

---

[1] N.B. Emerson Pugh is George Pugh’s, the book’s author, father. G.E. Pugh is fondly quoting his father at this point in the book.

[2] By “pretty much” I mean “nearly exactly.” Edward O. Wilson’s own endorsement appears on the cover of Pugh’s book: “I believe this book is exceptional, potentially even revolutionary in its approach to the study of ethics.” Somehow, some way, I failed to realize this until I was nearly done with the entire structure of this paper.

Judas as Jinn: Final Paper

Judas as Jinn

                “It's all part 'n parcel of the whole genie gig: Phenomenal cosmic powers! Eeeetibity living space!”(John Musker, Aladdin). Throughout the reading of Lilith’s Brood by Octavia E. Butler I couldn’t help but noticing the similarities between Jodahs and the Genie of the Lamp from Aladdin. Through further investigation of Arabic genie mythology I found that Jodahs was almost an exact reflection of these beliefs. Because these tales were so connected to the Islamic belief and the Qur’an, I was led to believe that Jodahs himself could be seen as a faith-based figure, which could lead to a further explanation of Jodahs’ position as the correction to the human-contradiction.

            Genies, also known as Jinn are found all through Arabic folklore. Their representation is highly reflective of the relationship between Jodahs and his humans.

“The ability of the jinn to copulate with humans – they are almost satyr-like in their sexual appetite in some popular anecdotes – is recognized in the Qur’an, where the maidens of paradise are described as untouched by humans or jinn.”(Neguin Yavari, Jinn).

 As we saw throughout Lilith’s Brood Oankali and Oankali constructs had an insatiable desire for all humans.

“It’s a good thing your people don’t eat meat. If you did, the way you talk about us, our flavor and your hunger and your need to taste us, I think you would eat us instead of fiddling with our genes.”(Butler, 680).

This desire is a reaction of the Oankali to the “human condition” along with the humans’ tendency for cancer. It seems that their only reason for continually overlooking the “human contradiction” is that it is equally as horrible as it is sexy to the Oankali. The novel describes the attachment between the Oankali and its mates as “Literal, physical addiction to another person…”(Butler, 679). This complete need for one another surpasses any typical form of desire, going into the realms of “satyr-like” merely because of the idea of complete physical addiction. It seems that the most notable parallel between this folklore and the novel is this extreme physical bond.

We also see similarities between the human backlash in Lilith’s Brood and Arabic mythology between Jinn and humans.

“Marriage with jinn was forbidden by most classical exegetes, both Sunni and Shi’i, on the grounds that God has commanded humans to marry with their own kind.”(Neguin Yavari, Jinn).

Like the humans of Lilith’s Brood the humans of folklore also saw a disagreeing factor to copulation with non-humans. In their eyes, the act of marriage with the jinn is such a sin that God saw the necessity of decreeing it off-limits. The humans of Lilith’s Brood also were extremely mistrustful of marriage with the Oankali and then went to great lengths to preserve human-only relations. This resulted in extreme deformation within their tribe, and shortened life spans. These humans too spread folklore about the Oankali “demons” and what would happen to them should they choose to mate with a non-human.

Other connections between the two include the incapability of touch in both folklore and Lilith’s Brood.

“In that community female jinn also frequent the sexual fantatsies of young men as ephemeral beauties who are objects of arousal but disappear before any physical contact with them. Jinn as agents of sexual desire prevail in Muslim communities, although rarely.”(Neguin Yavari, Jinn).

In some folklore, Jinn are capable to flitting between entities in order to create sexual feelings in humans, or in order to have sexual relations(Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of Jinn, 108).The absence of contact within this branch of folklore is also reflected in Butler’s writing. The Oankali constructs have sexual relations with the humans through chemical stimulations within their bodies, not through actual touch. Furthermore, once two humans have bonded with their Oankali or construct mate they are incapable of touch between one another. They are “physically” capable of touching one another; however the pleasure or comfort they may have once found in physical interaction is now uncomfortable.

After having accepted that Jodahs truly is based on this jinn folklore, examination of Arabian Nights, the pinnacle of genie folklore (and the basis of Disney’s Aladdin), seemed absolutely necessary. In Arabian Nights there was an outlandish amount of sexual desire between humans and genies, with the love theme dominant above all.           

“The Nights, this monumental literary material, undoubtedly overflows with the most outlandish and stunning stories on the theme of love between jinn and humans. It is the most prolific and the most ingenious popular source… The daily life of humans in love with supernatural beings constantly combines the unfamiliar with the historical and the social. It is a realm where pure logic is of no avail for here and there, past and present, human and alien persistently fuse to create a perplexing reality.”(Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of the Jinn, 109).

This love theme is clearly present in Lilith’s Brood. Also present in Arabian Nights is the presence of the Qur’an’s influence. Though they may not abide by all laws of the Qur’an such as the prohibition of sexual relations between the Jinn and humans, it is clear that the influence remains portraying them as supernatural beings with extreme physical relationships despite their prohibition.

            Because of these connections to the Qur’an it is hard to overlook all the religious implications it entails. It is necessary to understand the pre-Islamic ideas that created the Qur’an.

“In pre-Islam, a jinni who loved a woman or a jinniyah who loved a man would take on a human form, and sometimes an animal form… It was alleged these spiritual entities would always follow the human they loved, whether the latter was aware of their presence or not.”(Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of Jinn, 103).

This extreme love plagues all theories of Jinn folklore; there are also tales of the sexual relations between these Jinn and humans in the Islamic faith.

“The idea jinn embody a human form when they fall in love with a human, of either sex, persisted in Islam… Despite an authorized prohibition against marriages between jinn and humans, as mentioned in the writings of Muslim jurists, it was believed these claimed unions continued to take place in Islam… Religious experts had to provide a juridical and theological status to this progeny. “(Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of Jinn, 105)

The views of the Qur’an are also implicated in this statement. Just how does the Qur’an view these creatures?  There is a very distinct story of jinn along with a ‘creation story’ of humans within the Qur’an.

“He created man of clay like the potter’s,/And the Jinn did He create of smokeless fire.”(Ayat 14-15).

Though nowhere within Lilith’s Brood is it stated that Jodahs is made of fire, Jodahs is a construct child. Where jinn of the Qur’an come from the loins of an angel and a human; Jodahs is born of an alien race and the human race. Because of this fact, the Oankali race as a whole cannot be seen as a genie, though all previous examples could be applied to the race as a whole. Perhaps Octavia Butler’s reason for this was to present the Oankali constructs as a type of final evolution into this “genie” state which further questions the success or failure of Jodahs in this position.

            The implication of fire is interesting beyond the angelic/human composition. As we have discussed in class, Butler was highly influenced by Herman Melville who was also was extremely interested in mythology and the presence of fire. In Melville’s Moby Dick we saw Ahab reflecting on Prometheus’ fire in discussion with the creation of his robot which is to be viewed as a perfect being.

“Hold; while Prometheus is about it, I’ll order a complete man after a desirable pattern. Imprimis, fifty feet high in his socks; then, chest modeled after the Thames Tunnel; then, legs with roots to ‘em, to stay in one place; then, arms three feet through the wrist; no eart at all, brass forehead, and about a quarter of an acre of fine brains; and let me see – shall I order eyes to see outwards? No, but put a sky-light on top of his head to illuminate inwards. There, take the order, and away.”(Melville, 512).

This robot is constructed so that information pours in, but is not chosen by the robot. Here we see a robot with massive dimensions, superior in every way. Ahab intends this robot to be the replacement of human beings. The eerie connection here is the similarities of intent. Both are seeking a ‘perfect’ race or being; Ahab with the perfect man and the Oankali creating a more perfect race by combining two with the best characteristics of both races. However, the perfect robot is never created for Ahab and his search for being ‘God-like’ leads him to his imminent downfall. The same could possibly be said for the Oankali. They are playing a ‘God-like’ position, attempting to create a superior being by playing the role of God themselves. It seems that despite their intentions of creating a superior race they are only running headlong into their own downfall.

            If Jodahs truly is a religious-based character then it is hard to miss the connection of Jodahs and the biblical Judas Iscariot. Because Butler is so influenced by Herman Melville, it is hard to overlook the similarities of their naming processes. “Call me Ishmael.”(Melville, 1): one of the most famous lines within any literary work. This too is an influential name within Biblical terms. Because Ishmael’s name is significant within the terms of Moby Dick and Butler is so influenced by Melville, the names and Biblical implications of such within Lilith’s Brood must also be of significance.

Judas Iscariot biblically is known as the Apostle who betrayed Jesus Christ for money leading to Jesus’ crucifixion.

“And Satan entered into Judas, who was surnamed Iscariot, one of the twelve. And he went, and discoursed with the chief priests and the magistrates, how he might betray him to them. And they were glad, and covenanted to give him money. And he promised. And he sought opportunity to betray him in the absence of the multitude.”(Luke 22:3-6)

Jodahs also should be viewed as a figure of betrayal within the Christian viewpoint. However, as we have already noted Judahs is already being contextualized within the Islamic viewpoint. There, Judas Iscariot plays a marginally different role. Here, we see Judas Iscariot being crucified by the unbelievers in place of Jesus. This belief comes from the following text from the Qur’an.

“And because of [the Jews] saying: We slew the Messiah, Jesus son of Mary, Allah’s messenger – they slew him not nor crucified him, but it appeared so unto them; and lo! Those who disagree concerning it are in doubt thereof; they have no knowledge thereof save pursuit of a conjecture; they slew him not for certain. But Allah took him up Himself. Allah was ever Mighty.”(S. 4:157-158).

Here, the traitor then dies in place of Jesus after the betrayal. This allows us to interpret Judas as either the traitor or the traitor turned hero. Either way, it is imperative that we allow these religious perspectives enhance our view of his character.

            Though we may see this almost critical of Christianity, I feel that in terms of Lilith’s Brood we are to see Christianity and Islamic beliefs in conjunction with one another. Aside from the presence of Judas Iscariot it may not be quite as clear as to how Christianity and Islam do come together here. As we know, Lilith’s first husband is a Nigerian man. This should not be taken as an insignificant detail. Nigeria itself is split between Christianity and Islam as well. Lilith’s first son is also given a Nigerian name. Lilith, then, could easily carry both traditions with her. As Lilith’s son, it is not hard to imagine that Jodahs could be both the connection between the Oankali and the humans and between Christianity and Islam.

            All of these combined ideas seem to point to an obvious failure of Jodahs as the correction of the human contradiction: that reason being that a religious figure as a solution would be outrageous to the Oankali. The Oankali have no use for religion, they are highly intellectual creatures who see all things in terms of genetics. Throughout the novel even in light of these intellectually superior creatures, humans continue to remain faithful. By placing so many faith-based contexts into Jodahs’ character it implies that rather than being the bridge between Oankali and human he is much more human than any of the Oankali could ever comprehend, because religion and faith are entirely incomprehensible to them. Though the Oankali may not even comprehend the idea of a God, they are attempting to play the role of God by making a figure that is akin to Ahab’s robot. Though the race may be, in the eyes of the Oankali, a perfect one, it is doomed to fail and take the Oankali with it for attempting to be like God.

            Further proof of this failure is proven within Amira El-Zein’s Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of the Jinn.

“The hierarchical Islamic view of the cosmos entails the imaginal realm just above our terrestrial domain impinges unswervingly on us and interferes in our lives in a subtle and hidden manner… Chapter 55 of the Qur’an, entitled al-Rahman (the All Merciful), embodies at the best the correspondence between humans and jinn. Throughout this chapter, written in the dual form to address its message to both jinn and humans, the following sentence is repeated ad infinitum, like a forewarning to jinn and humans: “O which of your Lord’s bounties will you [humans] and you [jinn] deny?”

Jinn are addressed in the Qur’an as nations endowed with rational faculties. Jinn and humans have mental faculties that allow them to access knowledge, perceive truth, and distinguish them from all other living beings in the universe. These two intelligent species are described as discerning the Word of God through reasoning, while the rest of Creation grasps it instinctively”(El-Zein, 13).

These paragraphs do two interesting things. Primarily, it shows that the Qur’an sees both jinn and humans as intelligently similar. They are beings who are viewed the same with the same commands and consequences for their actions. However, beyond this the jinn are part of a hierarchical cosmos. By being equally a part of this cosmos as the humans, the jinn are also hierarchical. Therefore, as a correction to the “human contradiction”, Jodahs is a complete failure, because he too encapsulates the hierarchical tendencies of the humans and the cosmos. This presence entirely refutes the idea that Jodahs could possibly be the correction, if he too holds tis major part of the “human contradiction.”

            Jodahs as a jinn figure and a religious figure is incapable of being a correction to the “human contradiction.” Aside from religious figures being strictly from human nature, jinn too are connection to religious beliefs. These religious beliefs show jinn and humans being of the same nature, and in connection, equally as hierarchical and intelligent; meaning that the jinn also hold the “human contradiction”. Jodahs cannot be a resolution to an issue that he encompasses.

Bibliography

Butler, Octavia E. Lilith's Brood. New York: Aspect/Warner, 2000. Print.

Drieskens, Barbara. Living with Djinns: Understanding and Dealing with the Invisible in Cairo. London: Saqi, 2008. Print.

El-Zein, Amira. Islam, Arabs, and the Intelligent World of the Jinn. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse UP, 2009. Print.

“Genie.” The Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology. Rosemary Ellen Guiley. New York: Facts on File, 2009. 94-95. Web. 24 March. 2012.

Melville, Herman. Moby Dick. Print.

"Jinn." Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. London: Chambers Harrap, 2009. Credo Reference. Web. 26 March 2012

“Jinn - Crystalinks." Crystalinks Home Page. Web. 27 Mar. 2012. <http://www.crystalinks.com/jinn.html>.

“Judas Iscariot.” CATHOLIC ENCYCLOPEDIA:. Web. 17 Apr. 2012. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/08539a.htm.

Meeks, Wayne A., and Jouette M. Bassler. The HarperCollins Study Bible: New Revised Standard Version, with the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 1993. Print.

“Yavari, Neguin. “Jinn.” Encyclopedia of Sex and Gender. Ed. Fedwa Malti-Douglas. Vol. 3. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007. 809-811. Web. 24 Mar. 2012.

Last open thread on Ellison and marcuse

Melville's Influence on the Nature of Blackness and Whiteness in Invisible Man

In the prologue of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, we see the narrator stealing light from Monopolated Light & Power in “an act of sabotage” (7). In this instance the ceiling of light bulbs represent the power and authority that comes with being a white man in 20^th century America, a sense of control that is denied to African Americans, and the narrator specifically. In addition to that level of symbolism, there is an even deeper layer of metaphoric rhetoric attached to the notion of light: it is colloquially associated with the concept of truth and goodness. “Nothing, storm or flood, must get in the way of our need for light” the narrator explains, “and ever more and brighter light. The truth is the light and the light is the truth” (Ellison 7). 

However, the narrator is not stealing sunlight; he is stealing electricity. Consequently, this plot device has yet another association to it because, in a physical sense, the protagonist is filling his basement with something artificial. Therefore, because electricity is a facsimile of sunlight it can be argued that Ellison is making the statement that the transcendental sense of freedom and control that the narrator is chasing which belongs to Caucasians in society is, in actually, artificial.

In addition, by using the interpretation of the text where the light from the power company is not perpetuating a metaphor of truth, but rather one of falseness on both a symbolic and physical level, then the opposite of that notion must also be true: the negativity associated with the invisible man’s blackness is also contingent on perception and not the nature of reality.

This theme of the perception of connotations associated with light and dark, white and black, is also relevant when analyzing Ellison’s novel through the influence Melville’s work had on it. The connection between Moby-Dick and Invisible Man is introduced within the first few pages of the novel, with the Invisible Man’s main character having a reefer-induced dream that makes allusions towards the moment in Moby-Dick where Ishmael briefly comes across a Black church in Nantucket. This connection is further strengthened when Brother Jack says to the narrator, “History has been born in your brain” (Ellison 291). This moment exemplifies the link between Ellison and Moby-Dick because Invisible Man’s narrator is decidedly similar to Ishmael: just like Ishmael is manufacturing the retelling of the story of the great whale, Ellison’s nameless narrator is creating his own “History” in his head.

Furthermore, a reading of Ellison through the influence of Melville is equally as prominent when examining the concept of white and blackness, as this theme is significant in both books. Within the chapter entitled “The Whiteness of the Whale” Ishmael undulates between various interpretations of the symbolism of whiteness. He states that “whiteness refiningly enhances beauty” and it is “the symbol of the divine spotlessness and power” (Melville 204-204). However, Ishmael contradicts this interpretations, also pointing out that white is also associated with “the white bear of the poles, and the white sharks of the tropics” (Melville 205). Ishmael acknowledges white as a race, saying that whiteness “applies to the human race itself, giving the white man ideal mastership over every dusky tribe” (Meville 205.) However, the back-and-forth between what white means (beautiful and terrible, pure and evil) is an intentional choice by Melville as it encapsulates a major theme within Moby-Dick: the associations of lightness and darkness, goodness and evil, are ultimately perception, not concrete reality. As Ishmael himself asks “Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of color, and at the same time the concrete of all colors?” (Melville 212).

The nameless narrator in Invisible Man also emphasizes Ishmael’s point. Throughout the novel thus far, the protagonist undergoes different incarnations of blackness as the narrative unfolds, shifting between white and black and the stereotypes associated with each. With Melville’s influence in mind, this aspect of the novel is a choice by Ellison to portray the point that the true nature of whiteness and blackness is so complicated and varied that the association of truth and goodness for whiteness and white men and negativity and darkness for blackness and black men is an oversimplification used to justify the racism of America in the 1930s. Therefore, by reading Ellison through the impact of Melville, Invisible Man becomes not only a novel that deals with issues of sociology, bigotry, and the capacity of human ignorance, it also serves as commentary on the human psyche beyond race.