An Analysis of "A Raisin in the Sun" & "Clybourne Park"

12.17.15

     A Raisin in the Sun and Clybourne Park both offer a critique of the racial barriers that persist in American society. White characters in both plays parallel each other in their attempts to deny racism while simultaneously being unable to rid themselves of their prejudice. Karl Lindner and Bev Stoller are particularly interesting in that they approach race relations in opposite ways, yet share an underlying bias that manifests itself in their interactions with black characters. The discomfort incited by such interactions forces the audience to consider to what extent racism is an individual choice as opposed to an ingrained system of belief, and the measures we must take to extricate ourselves from the roles that we are born into.

     In A Raisin in the Sun, Karl Lindner struggles to cover up his blatant racism with desperate attempts at logic, demonstrating the conflicting needs to maintain a good image while also clinging to prejudicial social norms. “I want you to believe me when I tell you that race prejudice simply doesn’t enter into it,” he insists (118). He enters the Youngers’ home with the goal of maintaining racial residential segregation within his community, yet still makes the claim that racial prejudice is not the root of his undertaking. To clarify his meaning, he claims that “...people can get awful worked up when they feel that their whole way of life and everything they’ve ever worked for is threatened” (119). Karl uses a passive voice in saying his way of life “is threatened”, but it is clear that he views the black family as a threat, despite his claims that “anyone [could] see [they] are a nice family” (117). Thus, his logic is flawed. In beating around the bush to try to appear as though he isn’t a terribly prejudiced man, many of the things he says directly counteract his argument. His contradictory statements are a reflection of his struggle to keep the family out while also not offending them. The fact that he thinks he can even convince them that he isn’t racist at all, furthermore, shows that all his talk about “understanding the other fellow’s problem” is only a way to tamp down the Youngers’ perspective (117). He closes himself off from their point of view long before he even gets to their house.

     Clybourne Park returns to Karl and his rhetorical strategies, but also shows the audience a darker shade of his character. He manipulates the truth over and over again to get what he wants, which illustrates how much he is truly controlled by his racism, even as he pretends that he isn’t. When Bev says she thinks they should welcome the Youngers to the neighborhood, Karl uses a slippery slope argument: “Who shall we invite next, the Red Chinese?” His analogy compares the differences between black and white families to the opposite political ideologies of capitalist America and communist China. This stresses his point that “fitting into a community is really what it all comes down to” (29).

     It also lays the foundation for his argument that neither whites nor blacks would benefit from living in integrated neighborhoods. His use of rhetoric not only absolves him of blame, but also tries to make it seem that he has the Youngers’ best interests at heart. He ropes Francine and Albert into the situation for proof of his conviction, claiming that, for example, different races enjoy different foods. Put on the spot, Francine and Albert actually discredit what Karl is saying. Albert makes everyone uncomfortable by playing into their stereotypes of him and saying what Karl and Jim want him to: “I sho couldn’t shop nowhere that didn’ sell no pig feet” (32). Francine simply says she enjoys spaghetti and meatballs, a typical dish for a white family. Still, Karl is undeterred. He finds an arbitrary  way to set them apart- “But you’ll have to show me where to find the skiing Negroes!”- and in doing so, completely overlooks the very people whose opinions he had asked for (33).

     Karl ignores the fact that claiming all black people share some innate quality that irrefutably sets them apart from whites is in itself completely racist. In fact, it could even be said that he is deaf to the nonsense that comes out of his mouth. Betsy, Karl’s deaf wife, is a symbol for his lack of self-awareness. Because he treats her as an extension of himself, constantly attentive and concerned about her wellbeing, her disability is a parallel to his own figurative one. The only difference is that Karl chooses to close his mind to other perspectives, while Betsy, of course, cannot choose not to be deaf. The audience can see Karl grasping at straws to support his argument, which shows how firm he is in the conviction that his actions are justified.

     Bev, on the other hand, portrayed as idealistic to the point of naiveté. She genuinely tries to set herself apart from other white people. In some ways, she can seem like a foil character to Karl’s; optimistic while he is pessimistic, open to the idea of the Younger family whereas he is decisively opposed to it. However, in her efforts to prove that she is not racist, her ignorance of her own intrinsic biases becomes evident. Bev protests against Karl’s insistence that a black family cannot move into the neighborhood. Jim and Karl are on the same side, and Russ isn’t contributing to the conversation, making Bev feel like a lone underdog fighting for what’s right. As the others dismiss the needs of the Younger family, Bev implores them “in principle, don’t we all deserve to- shouldn’t we all have the opportunity to [pursue our needs]?” (29) Because those around her are so obviously prejudiced, Bev has the moral high ground. She feels like a mediator and an upstanding model of white behavior.

This means that in her conversations with Francine and Albert, Bev is blissfully unaware of how ignorant she seems. She makes herself believe that she has a beautiful friendship with Francine, when actually, Francine is only “indulging [her]” every time she brings up how close they are (31). Francine obviously does not feel particularly attached to Bev, as she tells Albert that everyone at the Stoller residence can “knock each other’s brains out, for all [she] [cares]” (40). Furthermore, when Albert is trying to leave, Bev tries to pay him back for his work. This may seem to her as though she’s being charitable and kind, but actually, she is patronizing him by refusing to accept that he sincerely does not want or need her money. Bev stands up against Karl to show others that she is not racist. She clings to a fabricated relationship with Francine and wants to give money to Albert because she feels the need to show herself the same thing. Her need to feel like she is a good person keeps her from seeing the reality of the situation.

     Both of these characters want to separate themselves from their ideas of what qualifies a racist. In their desperation to do so, they fail to realize that it isn’t white people who get to decide what is considered racist and what isn’t. What truly defines one’s ability to live without prejudice, then, is their ability to listen to those who have too often been silenced. Both plays reveal that ingrained, individual biases and behaviors can be overcome only by being willing to hear the things about ourselves that we would rather deny.