Friday, May 31, 2013

"Westward to the American Dream" From Dory to Lilly

I like the long drive from Boise to our parents' house. It's a good time for listening to loud music, singing along when I know no-one will judge me, and thinking deep thoughts about the universe. As I was doing those first two things, I noticed an odd thing that kept popping up in my music that made me start in on that third thing. I kept hearing the word word "west," so I started paying attention. See if you can find a pattern here:

From the musical "Wicked":
Elphaba: "So if you cannot find me, look to the western sky! As someone told me lately, everyone deserves a chance to fly. And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free! To those who'd ground me, take a message back from me: tell them how I am defying gravity."
From Streetlight Manifesto's "A Moment of Silence/A Moment of Violence"
"Oh, to the west you don't know what it is you're running from, but everybody's laughing loud: last chance to make your mother and your father proud." 
And then I thought about that song who's writer and name I don't remember, but a line floated up from years ago:
"We're headed East, way way East, to catch the summer. We're headed West, way way West, because anything's better than here."
These songs are all using "west" somewhat symbolically. West for a new beginning, for an opportunity. Somehow, west is a valid way of suggesting possibility, opportunity, a way to start over. I was trying to think of why this might be, and I then it was suddenly so obvious. In the history of the U.S., and even further back into European colonization, the idea of quite literally going west has always represented those ideas--going west to to the New World: to streets paved with gold, to an end to religious discrimination, to a homestead and a plot of land, to adventure, to find a water route from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean. These were the dreams of people who went west (whether or not they accomplished those is a different story, and not the point). The point is, that that idea is still embedded in our culture, and apparently in our language and our symbolism. Cool. I was thinking about this more (long drive) and trying to come up with more evidence. I listened to that beloved song "Defying Gravity" again--this song is important to people, on par with "I'll Make a Man Out of You" even if people have never seen the rest of the musical. It resonates. I wonder why?



Elphaba: "It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leap! [...] 
Glinda: "How can I make you understand? You're having delusions of grandeur!"
Elphaba: "I'm through accepting limits because someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know!"
Holy American Dream, Batman!

As I said before, though, this goes back all the way to Europe. Think Lord of the Rings, which was written by a British Author.  East and West are very meaningful.  The further East you go, the more entrenched things get.  Civilizations get older, more care-worn.  Gondor, as the furthest west we go (besides Mordor), is like the big brother of every other place we see. They're the final barrier between the literal representation of Evil and the younger and more innocent peoples further West.  The Hobbits are the furthest West in Middle-Earth and they are the most innocent. Aragorn goes West to become anonymous, to escape the burden of his heritage.  And then, of course, we have the Undying Lands of the West.  If Tolkein meant Middle-Earth to be Europe (Middle-Earth is an Old English name for Europe), then the Undying Lands are certainly the New World, and Frodo's eventual voyage to the Undying Lands again represents that idea of a fresh start, an escape from the old, entrenched rules of the East.

I think the point I'm trying to make with all of this is that symbolism of the West.  That the West is inextricably tied to that very American idea of being able to make it if you try hard enough, to always having an opportunity no matter what has happened before, to always being able to start again. To travel from East to West.

By the way, this could come off as terribly ethnocentric, and I don't mean it that way.  This is something subconcious in our culture, and it has nothing to do anymore with literal east and west--I'm not saying that the U.S. is somehow better than Japan or China. It's nothing so literal as that, although perhaps in our history it was. Now it's just an idea, a symbol.

Do you have anything to add to this, sister?  Or did I make any sense at all?

Love, Dory