The narrator has such a large number of contending driving forces in his mind: to accomplish exact retribution on Dr. Bledsoe, to advance in Harlem, and to satisfy the desires of his friends and family. In any case, he seethes under the impacts of "self control, that frozen virtue, that freezing vice.” The irony is self-evident, alluding to what is ordinarily viewed as a discipline as both bad habit and virtue, as one that deadens as opposed to solidifies.