The Complexity of Evil in Morison´s The Bluest Eye Essay

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The book The Bluest Eye is a real representation of what Morison the author thought growing up as a black girl in a city in Georgia was like. She wanted to be as realistic as she could, the point of the novel is not to be some heart-warming story about how a young black girl can rise up in the Georgia neighborhood that she lived in. But about the hard and confusing life of a black girl. There was no true hero and there was no goal but just a girl trying to understand the world in which she lives in. This book emphasizes the cruel reality in the black communities in Georgia. Morison’s views on realistic evil is present as she try’s to show though Cholly Breadlove the true cause of evil. Morrison wants to show that there is no clear evil in …show more content…
This is only the tip of the iceberg because we then have to take a look at why Cholly did such a awful thing. Things like his parents abandoning him at a very young age, this on top all of the other things that kept compounding on him like when the white men kept watching him while he was having sex. This confusion that confronts the reader when they look into Cholly's back story resembles any confusion to any story real or fake. The author does an excellent job at adding to this already complex story of Cholly's life Morrison is not like the normal author she realistically portrays the characters as people who were not always bad and wants you to have sympathy for them. A normal author would not give such embarrassing situations for Cholly to go though. Morrison writes of examples of when Cholly was hurt and embarrassed to have the reader feel sorry for Cholly and understand what happen to bring him to do such a horrible thing. When Cholly was trying to meet his father for the first time, he gets very nervous. This is because both his parents left him before the age of four. Because he doesn't know what to do, his emotions get the best of him. “Atop the fall of water from his eyes. While straining in this way, focusing every erg of energy on his eyes, his bowels knew, liquid stools were running down his legs. At the mouth of the alley where his father was, on an orange crate in the sun, on a street

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