What Are The Major Conflicts In Native Son Novel?

In 'Native Son', the rat in the opening scene is a powerful symbol. It represents Bigger Thomas’s trapped existence and the dehumanizing conditions of poverty. The rat’s frantic struggle mirrors Bigger’s own fight for survival in a society that views him as less than human. Another key symbol is the snow that blankets the city after Mary’s murder. It’s both a literal and metaphorical cover, hiding Bigger’s crime but also reflecting the cold, unyielding nature of the world he lives in. The furnace where Mary’s body is burned symbolizes destruction and the erasure of identity, as Bigger tries to obliterate the evidence of his actions. These symbols collectively highlight the themes of oppression, fear, and the cyclical nature of violence in the novel.

In 'Native Son', fear isn’t just an emotion—it’s a force that shapes Bigger Thomas’s entire existence. From the start, he’s trapped in a world that sees him as a threat, and that perception becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. His fear of white authority and societal rejection drives his actions, like the accidental killing of Mary Dalton. It’s not just about survival; it’s about the suffocating weight of being constantly watched, judged, and dehumanized. Bigger’s fear is also a mirror of the fear white society has of Black men. This mutual fear creates a cycle of violence and misunderstanding. When Bigger acts out of fear, he reinforces the stereotypes that oppress him. The novel shows how fear can strip away humanity, turning people into symbols of their race rather than individuals. By the end, Bigger’s fear evolves into a kind of clarity—he understands the system that created him, but it’s too late to escape it.

In 'Native Son', the American Dream is portrayed as a cruel illusion for African Americans, especially through the life of Bigger Thomas. The novel dives deep into systemic racism and economic disparity, showing how Bigger’s environment traps him in a cycle of poverty and violence. The American Dream promises opportunity and success, but for Bigger, it’s a mirage. His aspirations are crushed by societal barriers, and his actions—like the accidental killing of Mary Dalton—are born out of desperation, not malice. Wright doesn’t just critique the Dream; he exposes its hypocrisy. Bigger’s story is a mirror to the systemic oppression that denies Black Americans the chance to even dream. The novel forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about race and class in America. It’s not just Bigger’s failure; it’s the failure of a system that claims equality but perpetuates inequality. The American Dream, as depicted in 'Native Son', is a lie for those born into oppression.

In 'Native Son', the justice system is depicted as a machine that grinds down the marginalized, especially Black Americans, with relentless efficiency. Bigger Thomas’s trial isn’t about truth or fairness—it’s a spectacle, a performance of societal fear and racial prejudice. The prosecution paints him as a monster, feeding into the white public’s stereotypes. His lawyer, Max, tries to contextualize Bigger’s actions within the systemic oppression he’s endured, but the court isn’t interested in nuance. They want a scapegoat, not justice. The system’s bias is laid bare in how quickly Bigger is condemned, not just for his crimes, but for his existence. The trial feels less about accountability and more about reinforcing the status quo. Even Max’s defense, while compassionate, can’t break through the wall of racism. The novel shows that for people like Bigger, the justice system isn’t a path to fairness—it’s a tool of control, designed to maintain power hierarchies rather than deliver equity.

Richard Wright's 'Native Son' is a cornerstone in modern literature, especially in its unflinching portrayal of systemic racism and its psychological toll. The novel’s protagonist, Bigger Thomas, isn’t just a character; he’s a symbol of the societal pressures and injustices faced by Black Americans in the 20th century. Wright’s raw, almost brutal honesty forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about race, class, and power dynamics. What makes 'Native Son' groundbreaking is its refusal to sugarcoat or offer easy resolutions. Bigger’s actions, while horrifying, are rooted in a reality shaped by oppression. This complexity challenges readers to see beyond surface-level judgments and consider the broader societal forces at play. The novel’s influence is evident in how it paved the way for later works that tackle similar themes, like James Baldwin’s 'Go Tell It on the Mountain' and Toni Morrison’s 'Beloved.' It’s not just a story; it’s a mirror held up to society, demanding accountability and change.

Bigger Thomas in 'Native Son' is a character that embodies the raw, unfiltered reality of systemic oppression. His life is a testament to the crushing weight of poverty, racism, and societal neglect. Bigger isn’t just a person; he’s a symbol of the dehumanization that Black Americans faced in the 1930s. His actions, though violent and extreme, are a desperate cry against a world that has stripped him of agency and dignity. What makes Bigger so significant is how he forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths. He’s not a hero, nor is he entirely a villain. He’s a product of his environment, shaped by forces beyond his control. His story isn’t just about crime; it’s about the conditions that create criminals. Through Bigger, Richard Wright exposes the cyclical nature of poverty and racism, showing how they trap individuals in a web of despair and violence. Bigger’s significance also lies in his complexity. He’s not a one-dimensional character; he’s filled with contradictions. He’s both fearful and defiant, both victim and perpetrator. This duality makes him a powerful figure, challenging readers to grapple with the moral ambiguities of his actions. In the end, Bigger Thomas isn’t just a character in a novel; he’s a mirror reflecting the harsh realities of a society that fails its most vulnerable.

In 'Native Son', naturalism is woven into the fabric of the story through its unflinching portrayal of Bigger Thomas’s life and the societal forces that shape him. The novel doesn’t just tell his story—it immerses you in the gritty, oppressive reality of 1930s Chicago. Bigger’s actions aren’t just his own; they’re reactions to the poverty, racism, and systemic injustice that trap him. Wright doesn’t sugarcoat anything. The descriptions are raw—the cramped apartment, the constant fear, the dehumanizing jobs. It’s like you’re there, feeling the weight of it all. What makes it naturalism is how Bigger’s fate feels inevitable. He’s not a hero or a villain; he’s a product of his environment. The novel shows how society’s structures—like segregation and economic inequality—dictate his choices. Even his violence isn’t glorified or condemned; it’s presented as a consequence of his circumstances. Wright uses naturalism to strip away any romanticism, forcing readers to confront the harsh truths about race and class in America. It’s not just a story—it’s a mirror held up to society.

In 'Native Son', Richard Wright dives deep into the crushing weight of systemic racism through Bigger Thomas’s life. Bigger isn’t just a character; he’s a product of a society that has already decided his fate. From the start, we see how poverty, lack of education, and racial prejudice trap him in a cycle of fear and violence. The novel doesn’t just show racism as individual acts of hate but as a system that dehumanizes Black people at every turn. Bigger’s job as a chauffeur for the Daltons is a perfect example. The Daltons see themselves as benevolent, but their charity is hollow. They profit from the very system that oppresses Bigger, yet they’re blind to their role in it. When Bigger accidentally kills Mary Dalton, it’s not just a crime—it’s a desperate act of survival in a world that has never given him a chance. The trial that follows exposes the hypocrisy of a justice system that’s supposed to be fair but is anything but. Wright forces us to confront uncomfortable truths. Bigger’s actions are horrific, but they’re also a response to a society that has stripped him of his humanity. The novel doesn’t excuse his crimes but asks us to see them as symptoms of a larger, more insidious problem. It’s a raw, unflinching look at how systemic racism doesn’t just harm individuals—it destroys lives and perpetuates cycles of violence.