3/21/2013

20+ Archetypal Americans


A passing reference in a book I'm reading got me thinking about American archetypes - not brands or companies, but characters.  If you had to pick people (real or fictional) who symbolize what America represents, who would they be? Who symbolize what we think we represent? Who symbolize what others in the world think we represent? 

I started asking friends for their inputs and got some fascinating answers.  Here's the list we've come up with so far.  Apparently - if you judge by this list - we're clever but folksy, greedy but generous, dutiful but not averse to breaking rules, glamorous/powerful but down-to-earth, reckless but reliable, powerful but humble, and definitely larger than life!
  1. George Washington.  Nobly gave up the opportunity to be king because he believed in democratic ideals.  Plus he was a farmer, which is as down to earth as you can get. (No pun intended)
  2. Ben Franklin.  Intelligent, funny, folksy, an autodidact, and just a little bit naughty.
  3. Davy Crocket.  An explorer who - according to the myth - combined courage, fortitude, and woodsmanship with a lust for adventure
  4. Paul Bunyan.  Bigger than life ... literally!
  5. Abraham Lincoln/Martin Luther King Jr.  God knows our country has made a lot of spiritual missteps, but we like to believe that - when push comes to shove - we'll spawn leaders able to guide us towards the right and honorable path 
  6. General Robert E. Lee.  Yes, he ended up on the losing side of the Civil War, but hard not to respect that he placed duty and honor over his own desires.
  7. Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn.  Practically our national icons, combining self-confidence with folksy charm and an endearing (or alarming, depending on your system of government) penchant for rule-breaking.
  8. Mark Twain.  Of all the folks on the list, probably best personifies what foreigners think of us - we're clever and possess a certain folksy charm, but we're also annoyingly prolific, pervasive, commercial, and self-satisfied 
  9. Thomas Edison/Steve Jobs. Ingenious, clever, and determined; plus, we like to think of ourselves as the technology leaders of the free world
  10. Franklin D. Roosevelt.  A man who made Americans proud of their ability to work hard and sacrifice for the common good.
  11. Eleanor Roosevelt.  She symbolizes intelligence, diplomacy, modesty and wit.
  12. The Hardy Boys.  They symbolize the boy-children we like to think we raise here in the U.S.: clever, multi-talented, self-sufficient and always up for adventure
  13. Jay Gatsby.  We'll throw everything away in search of our dreams.
  14. John Wayne (the characters he played in movies)/Boy Scouts.  They epitomize honor, chivalry, duty, determination, self-sacrifice, plus you can't imagine them passing an old lady without helping her cross the street
  15. Marilyn Monroe.  Could have chosen from a list of celebrities (Elizabeth Taylor and Elvis come to mind), but Marilyn represents the type: glamorous, sexy, largely invented by the media but we liked them even better when we embrace their flaws
  16. Amelia Earhart/Charles Lindbergh/Neil Armstrong.  Together, they symbolize our sense of reckless courage and our willingness to throw ourselves into danger in search of everlasting glory 
  17. General George Patton.  Highly educated, eccentric, irrascable, brilliant, courageous, and victorious in war.
  18. Aunt Bea.  She's nurturing, capable, loyal and yet quietly strong - a classic female American archetype if there ever was one.
  19. Oprah.  The epitome of the self-made man ... except, of course, that she's a woman.  She dominates entertainment the way we like to think we dominate the world: defining tastes, creating/manipulating markets, and amassing a huge personal fortune 
Who do you think needs to be added to the list?  Let me know!

3/19/2013

Book Look: People of the Book, by Geraldine Brooks


The plot is easily told: a book restorer, Hanna Heath, is asked to restore a copy of a precious ancient text, a gorgeously illuminated but mysterious Jewish Haggadah salvaged from the ashes of civil war in Sarajevo. But Hanna isn’t just a book restorer: she’s really more of a book whisperer, a literary paleontology who specializes in reconstructing the lives of ancient text by interpreting the clues left embedded in paper and ink, thread and binding, stains and marks.

Each clue that Hanna extracts from the Haggadah - a fragment of butterfly wing, missing silver clasps, a wine stain containing traces of blood, grains of sea salt, the inexplicable presence of dark-skinned woman in one of the book’s dazzling illuminations – provides Brooks an opportunity to transport us back through time to explore, through a series of "stories within the story", the timeless conflict between hatred and tolerance, between humanity and inhumanity, between despair and hope.

Each of Brooks’ deftly rendered historical vignettes reminds us of just how timeless and implacable are the forces of hate. Making a Jewish holy book the epicenter of the text is an obvious starting point for any tale of the ravages of intolerance. But as Brooks transports us back through the book’s timeline (stopping along the way in Sarajevo 1940, Vienna 1894, Venice 1609, Tarragona 1492, and Seville 1480), we see the toll that intolerance has always exacted on our humanity, a price paid not just by Jews but by Muslims and Christians as well. After every vignette, Brooks circles back to Hanna’s story which, though modern, echoes the same theme: that only through understanding and tolerance can we achieve peace – both literally and figuratively.

It’s been a while since I read a novel so wholly satisfying. Brook’s plotting is brisk and intense, her prose intelligent, her historical research impeccable. If I had to venture any criticism, it might be that Brook’s female characters tend to be cut from the same simplistic mold: strong, smart, and with a broad streak of rebellion. About all that changes is their names (Hanna, Lola, Reyna, Ruti, Isabella/Nura, al-Mura) and the nature of the peril they are facing. But I think most readers will be as willing as I was to overlook this anachronism given the novel’s sweeping historical scope, engrossing mystery, deft prose, and overarching message of compassion.