The American Classic: Redefined
0 Comments Published by Michael on Tuesday, July 25, 2006 at 8:23 AM.
This summer has afforded me the opportunity to read a handful of what are argued to be America's greatest novels, written by those who are esteemed to be America's greatest novelists. I have been allowed a glimpse into the lives that I might never otherwise experience, and I have lived and died by the choices these characters have made as if I were with them. I have been the affluent youth, seemingly unaffected by war and economic depression, unconcerned with the life not enclosed within the ivy walls that I have surrounded myself with. I have been, too, the paternal figure, knowing that I cannot do more to feed my family, and forced from my home to the hostile "road", a place that wants us no more than we want it. I have been destitute, and I have been rich beyond comprehension. I have been the adulterer, justifying my actions against the backdrop of necessity or anonymity, and I have been the faithful wife, no less tempted, but grounded in ideals that cannot be shaken by circumstance. I have been murderer, thief, priest, soldier, son, daughter, pervert, old, young, dead, but this weekend I was something else; I was an observer of reality.
After witnessing the wedding of our friends, Dustin and Jamie, we spent the night with the Gerlts and Erin's parents in Comanche, TX. Sitting under the stars, cool breeze cooling us from the 100 degree heat from earlier in the day, a heat that seems to normally linger like a slow lifting morning fog, green grass fitting between our toes, and mosquitos feasting upon us, we talked and we listened. I could have listened till dawn and still not have grown weary, because, sitting beside the near-dry lake, we were given a taste of history from the lips of two people who had lived it. It was tangible, real. Steinbeck and Fitzgerald, West and Mailer, these can give thrilling stories of survival and love, loss and fortune, but there is an element of the fantastic that causes them to sell books. Would "The Grapes of Wrath" have been the classic that it is had it not tore into the hearts of its readers, culminating in a grotesquely beautiful image of life and death? What makes them great novels also makes them detached from the everyday life of the reader.
What the Allen's shared with us by the light of the moon was not fancy. There were no cliffhangers or exagerrations, amplified in an effort to grab the attention of the consumer, there was simply stories of a past that my generation has not and perhaps cannot know. The purity of a history free from artistic license was refreshing, and am grateful that I was given a glimpse behind the curtain of their rich lives. Thank you, Joe and Doniece.
After witnessing the wedding of our friends, Dustin and Jamie, we spent the night with the Gerlts and Erin's parents in Comanche, TX. Sitting under the stars, cool breeze cooling us from the 100 degree heat from earlier in the day, a heat that seems to normally linger like a slow lifting morning fog, green grass fitting between our toes, and mosquitos feasting upon us, we talked and we listened. I could have listened till dawn and still not have grown weary, because, sitting beside the near-dry lake, we were given a taste of history from the lips of two people who had lived it. It was tangible, real. Steinbeck and Fitzgerald, West and Mailer, these can give thrilling stories of survival and love, loss and fortune, but there is an element of the fantastic that causes them to sell books. Would "The Grapes of Wrath" have been the classic that it is had it not tore into the hearts of its readers, culminating in a grotesquely beautiful image of life and death? What makes them great novels also makes them detached from the everyday life of the reader.
What the Allen's shared with us by the light of the moon was not fancy. There were no cliffhangers or exagerrations, amplified in an effort to grab the attention of the consumer, there was simply stories of a past that my generation has not and perhaps cannot know. The purity of a history free from artistic license was refreshing, and am grateful that I was given a glimpse behind the curtain of their rich lives. Thank you, Joe and Doniece.
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