Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Almost two views on America
(1) There is a tendency in Britain to think of the Anglo-American relationship as like that of George and Lenny in Of Mice and Men - “I didn’t mean to hurt the Iraqis, George! I was just tryin' to pet 'em a little.” – a blundering brute kept in check by a smaller, wily, more streetwise friend. The reality is less flattering. The British attitude (and perhaps the European, though I don’t feel qualified to speak for them) is more like that of an ageing parent, jealously carping about a more vigorous, errant offspring. This wayward son is damned whatever. Too clever by half – Harvard, MIT, MOMA – and just plain stupid: redneck, patriotic, terrible television. Held to a different standard than other nations, our son either mopes in isolation or should learn to mind his own business; so unlike those other nice boys, China, Russia and India. Even plucky old France, the lippy neighbourhood scrapper, could teach our kid a thing or two. He’s fallen in with a bad crowd, you see: the Neoconservatives, the Christian Right, the philistines and the postmodernists. We don’t like it. Why can't he be more like us? We complain about his escapades and the way he throws his weight around; to be honest, he secretly reminds us of ourselves when we were young. The problem is not even so much what he does do, but what he’s able to do – just because he feels like it. Still though, we call him if we fall over and can’t get out of the bath. He never comes in time though, the ungrateful little bastard, gave him our best years we did.
(2) If I could be bothered then I would extend the following analogy further. However, cultural studies and alternative readings are not really my thing. Nevertheless, I’ll give you a thumbnail sketch. Instead of a portrait of modern day America, early Sopranos episodes can be interpreted as a metaphor for America’s place within the world*. Tony represents the USA as it is today: powerful if unsure of its role, it lives by a code of its own, thinking that this it superior to the hypocrisies of official law. Trying to balance the various elements of its family and keep everyone happy it becomes frustrated and may lash out. Tony’s mother is, to borrow a phrase from Donald Rumsfeld, “Old Europe”. Consumed with jealousy and self-hatred, frustrations are taken out on the son and its own faults and malevolent tendencies ignored. The UK is Carmela, content to enjoy the riches that Tony provides, but reserving the right to feel occasional pangs of guilt and to scold every now and then.
Take it or leave it.
* From an American perspective.
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(1) There is a tendency in Britain to think of the Anglo-American relationship as like that of George and Lenny in Of Mice and Men - “I didn’t mean to hurt the Iraqis, George! I was just tryin' to pet 'em a little.” – a blundering brute kept in check by a smaller, wily, more streetwise friend. The reality is less flattering. The British attitude (and perhaps the European, though I don’t feel qualified to speak for them) is more like that of an ageing parent, jealously carping about a more vigorous, errant offspring. This wayward son is damned whatever. Too clever by half – Harvard, MIT, MOMA – and just plain stupid: redneck, patriotic, terrible television. Held to a different standard than other nations, our son either mopes in isolation or should learn to mind his own business; so unlike those other nice boys, China, Russia and India. Even plucky old France, the lippy neighbourhood scrapper, could teach our kid a thing or two. He’s fallen in with a bad crowd, you see: the Neoconservatives, the Christian Right, the philistines and the postmodernists. We don’t like it. Why can't he be more like us? We complain about his escapades and the way he throws his weight around; to be honest, he secretly reminds us of ourselves when we were young. The problem is not even so much what he does do, but what he’s able to do – just because he feels like it. Still though, we call him if we fall over and can’t get out of the bath. He never comes in time though, the ungrateful little bastard, gave him our best years we did.
(2) If I could be bothered then I would extend the following analogy further. However, cultural studies and alternative readings are not really my thing. Nevertheless, I’ll give you a thumbnail sketch. Instead of a portrait of modern day America, early Sopranos episodes can be interpreted as a metaphor for America’s place within the world*. Tony represents the USA as it is today: powerful if unsure of its role, it lives by a code of its own, thinking that this it superior to the hypocrisies of official law. Trying to balance the various elements of its family and keep everyone happy it becomes frustrated and may lash out. Tony’s mother is, to borrow a phrase from Donald Rumsfeld, “Old Europe”. Consumed with jealousy and self-hatred, frustrations are taken out on the son and its own faults and malevolent tendencies ignored. The UK is Carmela, content to enjoy the riches that Tony provides, but reserving the right to feel occasional pangs of guilt and to scold every now and then.
Take it or leave it.
* From an American perspective.
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