Doctor Benedict Mady Copeland Character Analysis

“A person can’t pick up they children and just squeeze them to which-a-way they wants them to be. Whether it hurt them or not. Whether it right or wrong. You done tried that hard as any man could try. And now I the only one of us that would come in this here house and sit with you like this.”

Singer was always the same to everyone. He sat in a straight chair by the window with his hands stuffed tight into his pockets, and nodded or smiled to show his guests that he understood.

“And we are not alone in this slavery. There are millions of others throughout the world, of all colors and races and creeds. […] The people in this town living by the river who work in the mills. People who are almost as much in need as we are ourselves. This hatred is a great evil, and no good can ever come from it. We must remember the words of Karl Marx and see the truth according to his teachings. The injustice of need must bring us all together and not separate us.” […]

Doctor Copeland loosened the collar of his shirt, for in his throat there was a choked feeling. The grievous love he felt within him was too much.

“They hollered there for three days and three nights and nobody come.”

“I am deaf,” said Doctor Copeland. “I cannot understand.”

“They put our Willie and them boys in this here ice-cold room. There were a rope hanging down from the ceiling. They taken their shoes off and tied their bare feets to this rope […] and their feets swolled up and they struggle on the floor and holler out. […] Their feets swolled up and they hollered for three nights and three days. And nobody come.”

Doctor Copeland pressed his head with his hands, but still the steady trembling would not stop. “I cannot hear what you say.”

The next morning the sun came out. The strange Southern winter was at its end. Doctor Copeland was released. A little group waited outside the jail for him. Mr. Singer was there. Portia and Highboy and Marshall Nicolls were present also. Their faces were confused and he could not see them clearly. The sun was very bright.

“Father, don’t you know that ain’t no way to help out Willie? Messing around at a white folks’ courthouse? Best thing us can do is keep our mouth shut and wait.”

“But if you was to ask me to point out the most uncivilized are on the face of this globe I would point here—” […] Jake turned the globe again and pressed his blunt, grimy thumb on a carefully selected spot. “Here. These thirteen states. I know what I’m talking about. I read books and I go around. I been in every damn one of these thirteen states. […] And here in these thirteen states the exploitation of human beings is so that—that it’s a thing you got to take in with your own eyes.”

“A person can’t pick up they children and just squeeze them to which-a-way they wants them to be. Whether it hurt them or not. Whether it right or wrong. You done tried that hard as any man could try. And now I the only one of us that would come in this here house and sit with you like this.”

Singer was always the same to everyone. He sat in a straight chair by the window with his hands stuffed tight into his pockets, and nodded or smiled to show his guests that he understood.

“And we are not alone in this slavery. There are millions of others throughout the world, of all colors and races and creeds. […] The people in this town living by the river who work in the mills. People who are almost as much in need as we are ourselves. This hatred is a great evil, and no good can ever come from it. We must remember the words of Karl Marx and see the truth according to his teachings. The injustice of need must bring us all together and not separate us.” […]

Doctor Copeland loosened the collar of his shirt, for in his throat there was a choked feeling. The grievous love he felt within him was too much.

“They hollered there for three days and three nights and nobody come.”

“I am deaf,” said Doctor Copeland. “I cannot understand.”

“They put our Willie and them boys in this here ice-cold room. There were a rope hanging down from the ceiling. They taken their shoes off and tied their bare feets to this rope […] and their feets swolled up and they struggle on the floor and holler out. […] Their feets swolled up and they hollered for three nights and three days. And nobody come.”

Doctor Copeland pressed his head with his hands, but still the steady trembling would not stop. “I cannot hear what you say.”

The next morning the sun came out. The strange Southern winter was at its end. Doctor Copeland was released. A little group waited outside the jail for him. Mr. Singer was there. Portia and Highboy and Marshall Nicolls were present also. Their faces were confused and he could not see them clearly. The sun was very bright.

“Father, don’t you know that ain’t no way to help out Willie? Messing around at a white folks’ courthouse? Best thing us can do is keep our mouth shut and wait.”

“But if you was to ask me to point out the most uncivilized are on the face of this globe I would point here—” […] Jake turned the globe again and pressed his blunt, grimy thumb on a carefully selected spot. “Here. These thirteen states. I know what I’m talking about. I read books and I go around. I been in every damn one of these thirteen states. […] And here in these thirteen states the exploitation of human beings is so that—that it’s a thing you got to take in with your own eyes.”