This review of Delillo's
Americana. One of my favorite novels is so well written, it's almost as good as the book.:
The time, the age, the epoch, the season, the culrue, and the genius at full bloom at the outset,
March 13, 2007
No need to write the great American Novel.
It has already been written.
This is it. Vonnegut
in his fiction wrote that all you
need to know how to live is in the Brother's
Karamazov, but it's not enough anymore. If you live
in America, this is the supplement. In the negative sense.
One almost should enjoy this novel one sentence at a time.
Each one is genius. I also like the way Delillo micromanages words,
and sentences. The page is extremely claustrophobic, but it is an
extremely cozy nook. The vividness with which this novel comes alive is
perhaps its triumph. Delillo has described the journey of David Bell so
well, that one can live in it vicariously, and doesn't have to make it
themselves. I do not want to make that cross country sojourn anymore to
writhe the experience out of Americana, get some vital juice out of
being an American. He describes the currents and undercurrents very
well.
The heart of the book is, I believe, on page 130.
...Something else was left over for the rest of us, or some of the
rest of us, and it was the dream of the good life, innocent enough,
simple enough on the surface, beginning for me as soon as I could read
and continuing through the era of the early astronauts, the red carpet
welcome on the aircraft carrier as the band played on. It encompassed
all those things that people are said to want, materials and objects
and the shadows they cast, and yet the dream had its complexities, its
edges of illusion and self-deception, an implication of serio-comic
death. To achieve an existence totally symbolic is less simple than
mining the buried metals of other countries or sending the pilots of
your squadron to hang their bombs over some illiterate village." [...]
I think this is what Americans are striving to ultimately do,
(speaking of the general culture) and this is of course, as Delillo
points out in the novel is not only destructive but impossible.
He also talks truth about the role of statistics in the national
consciousness. Everyone, will, or should find a foible of Americana
that they can appropriate as knowledge, something to call their own
form now `till death.
One can get distracted, but the entire message for me is this:
There is nothing in the American culture worth having. On the fringes,
or in the mainstream. Pick your poison. A book dedicated to this is
monumental. This really is, I think, the great American Novel, which is
as fertile today as it was in 1971.