
Love it or hate it, there’s one country that everyone has an opinion on — The United States. I think that’s because of a weird dynamic between the promise of freedom, and pursuit of happiness and the American Dream of its self-image when contrasted with the quite-obvious impossibility for everyone to achieve those promises.
Nowhere else is the “creative destruction” of rampant capitalism quite so vehemently defended, for example — in idea and in idealism, if not always in practice.
As a Canadian, the whole concept of America as an elephant next door has been absorbed into my psyche since birth. I’m not American, but I’m somewhat defined by Americanism nonetheless. I’m a little bit fascinated by it, and often frustrated.
Experiencing a culture is the best way to get a bead on it, obviously, but analysis of American culture is so thoroughly dominated by Americans that it’s sometimes difficult to get what you might term an unbiased opinion. So I was enthralled to read the final essay of the BBC’s North American editor. Having lived in The States for the past six years, he’s returning home. And he’s penned a blistering broadside — with love — at the country he’s leaving behind:
America shines a light on the entire human condition …. America speaks to the whole of humanity because the whole of humanity is represented here; our possibilities and our propensities.
Often what is revealed is unpleasing; truths that are not attractive or wholesome or hopeful.
On the last day we spent in our home in north-east Washington, they were holding a food-eating competition in a burger bar at the end of our street. The sight was nauseating: acne-ridden youths, several already obese, stuffing meat and buns into their mouths while local television reporters, the women in dinky pastel suits, rushed around getting the best shots.
America can be seen as little more than an eating competition, a giant, gaudy, manic effort to stuff grease and gunge into already sated innards.
John Webb has “mixed feelings” about America, because despite it’s obvious faults, he really does love it, he says. Actually, he contends that it is because of those faults that America still has greatness:
To make it big, there must be something creating the drive, and part of that something is the poverty of the alternative, the discomfort of the ordinary lives that most Americans endure and the freedom that Americans have to go to hell if that is the decision they take.
A found a similar — and more enchanting — message at the New York Times. Using visual storytelling in a way that has to be seen to be appreciated, Maria Kalman tries to exhort people to find that drive, to reach for something better, to create. To invent:
They don’t exist in some natural state. They must be invented by people. And that, of course, is a great thing. Don’t mope in your room. Go invent something. That is the American message. Electricity, flight, the telephone. The television. Computers. Walking on the moon. It never stops.
Now I just have to find something to invent!