Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Dreams of America

Seven years ago, I was sitting in a cafe in France when a familiar tune filled my ears.  The song was Simon and Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound." I was all of sixteen years old, having a grand old time in Europe, enjoying myself far too much to remember I was five thousand miles from home.  All of a sudden though, perhaps drawn in contrast to the soothing voice of Paul Simon, the conversations around me grew markedly foreign.  I became painfully aware of how distant I was from those around me, in language, culture, even appearance.  A warm nostalgia crept over me like embracing arms, and I suddenly longed for the comforts of home and familiarity.  I yearned for America.

When I think back on this moment, I always wonder what it was about the song that evoked such sentimental feelings.  I didn't really miss America.  In fact, I never gave it a thought because France honestly seemed in all aspects so much greater than the country I was born in.  There was richer history and culture, older architecture, endless stretches of beautiful land where so many had tread before me.  Yet for a moment there, I was pulled away from my surroundings and made to recognize where I came from and where I would inevitably return to.  America was my home.

As I listen to the song today, pondering America on the Fourth of July, the song and the nostalgia it evoked achieves new meaning.  Beyond the poetry of their music, Simon and Garfunkel captured some aspect of the modern American mythos in their songs.  Not the unbridled hope and optimism of the elusive American Dream, so doubted in recent times, but a deep sense of uncertainty attached to our national ethos that abounds in troubled times. While searching for the meaning of America on the song 'America,' Simon stumbles, finding himself lost, "empty and aching," suddenly wary of those around him.  'The Sound of Silence' documents a growing collapse in communication across society as a whole, brought upon by events like Kennedy's assassination and the Vietnam War, while 'The Dangling Conversation' reflects on failures to connect in personal life.  By the end of 'America' everything is in deeper doubt than it was in the beginning.  Despite all the despair, however, there's a glimmering sense of shared experience - the comfort of knowing that we're all struggling together as a nation in troubled times. 

In many ways, these songs embody the atmosphere of another definitively American artist: Edward Hopper.  They conjure uncertainty upon a backdrop of familiar sights and sounds just as Hopper's paintings portray anxiety and loneliness in the common features of American life, the gas stations, diners, local motels.  His scenes and landscapes depict isolation, resignation, and regret, creating a desolate view of America, more real than that sparkling notion of the American Dream upon which our nation was built.

Hopper's America along with that of Simon and Garfunkel and countless other artists and writers of the 20th century represent a view of our country that is perhaps not what we are known for.  America is supposed to be the country of boundless opportunity, of self-made men, the land of the free and the home of the brave.  Where is this elusive American Dream today in a society rife with unemployment, economic inequality, and disappointment?  I'd challenge the notion that it existed at all.  What's more notable is that our country has a collective consciousness that honors struggle, individuality, and self-improvement and has seen real hardship and real victory throughout its history.  The American Dream still serves to motivate millions of Americans toward something of value.  It reinforces the beauty of the human experience in moments of both triumph and failure and reminds us of generations of Americans before us who have sought the meaning of America.  After all, America is all about the journey, about climbing our personal ladders to success and finding out for ourselves what the American dream is all about. 

There are many things about America that I am not satisfied with, but there are also certain moments when I am reminded of America's greatness, its unique culture, tradition, and symbols that transcend our daily experience.  When I hear Copland's "Fanfare for the Common Man," a piece of music simultaneously triumphant and mournful that could only characterize the sound of America.  Or when I drive across expanses of land that never seem to end, that simply proclaim the vastness of America, that smell of adventure and sweat, that remind me of the many journeys that await me in this great country.

I'm proud of America and all it stands for.  Happy Fourth of July.

Flag (1954-55), Jasper Johns.