Ginsberg's ghost
Mar. 12th, 2006 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imomusI've found myself this week in the middle of a certain kind of New York conversation, the kind I used to hunger for, lively conversation about art and projects and ideas and ambition and politics, falling silent. It's not that I don't want to be in the conversation. It's not that the terms of the conversation make no sense to me. It's not even that I'm still a bit jet-lagged and tend to get tired early in the evening. It's just something to do with feeling bored with the way these New York conversations, these American conversations, are framed. I feel like, no matter how much I agree, I won't agree. No American definition of the good life will match mine. I want to opt out of the terms and framings of these conversations even before I get into them. These days I seem to prefer processing things visually; I find that more interesting. I'm sitting in a bar, and there's conversation, but I notice that there's an abacus lattice in front of me, 
and I want to concentrate on that. Or there's music playing, but the peripheral sounds (rain, ventilation, machinery) are more interesting. The landscape out the window of the plane is more interesting than the film. Silence is more interesting than speech. I just want to look at what people are wearing, watch a crane elevator moving up and down its metal spine, silhouetted against the western horizon.
At moments like this I think of Allen Ginsberg. I think of that gimmick he had -- and it also wasn't a gimmick -- of launching into a mantra at any given moment. Here's one, his Vajra Mantra. It's a lovely recording, a serious and sensuous pronunciation of holy syllables. And I think of Ginsberg's self-awarded license to pronounce these syllables as a strategy, in part, to avoid other syllables. His embrace of Buddhism might have been, amongst other things, a way for Ginsberg to be post-American, a way out of all sorts of conversations with people at universities, rallies, in cars and cafes, wherever; a way out of small talk which would ultimately just confirm certain American fixed ideas, and also confirm him as an American Jew. By becoming some sort of satyr-devotee, by mixing cultures and invoking gods who were non-gods, Ginsberg could escape all that rubbish, all that restricting clutter. I wish I had a gimmick like that! I wish I could break out a small electronic shruti box and just start chanting! Where do I need to apply for the license to do that? Do I need to be a 1960s person? An eccentric? A famous poet? A visiting lecturer?
Ginsberg is a man I admire a lot. He's dead, of course, and now we have Devendra Banhart, a sort of "fashion Hindu", in something approximating the same cultural space. Now, all sorts of objections could be raised to Devendra -- and what's he doing in the men's fashion section of the New York Times, anyway? What kind of transcendence is that? -- but I'm not really interested in any of them. Anything that lifts America away from its dull denims, its dreadful protestant practicality, is fine by me. A use of fashion that lifts America away from itself -- away from its endless small talk about the weather and projects and success -- towards a recognition of the wisdom of India is, well, a correct use of fashion. The ghost of Ginsberg is there, doing good work.
and I want to concentrate on that. Or there's music playing, but the peripheral sounds (rain, ventilation, machinery) are more interesting. The landscape out the window of the plane is more interesting than the film. Silence is more interesting than speech. I just want to look at what people are wearing, watch a crane elevator moving up and down its metal spine, silhouetted against the western horizon.At moments like this I think of Allen Ginsberg. I think of that gimmick he had -- and it also wasn't a gimmick -- of launching into a mantra at any given moment. Here's one, his Vajra Mantra. It's a lovely recording, a serious and sensuous pronunciation of holy syllables. And I think of Ginsberg's self-awarded license to pronounce these syllables as a strategy, in part, to avoid other syllables. His embrace of Buddhism might have been, amongst other things, a way for Ginsberg to be post-American, a way out of all sorts of conversations with people at universities, rallies, in cars and cafes, wherever; a way out of small talk which would ultimately just confirm certain American fixed ideas, and also confirm him as an American Jew. By becoming some sort of satyr-devotee, by mixing cultures and invoking gods who were non-gods, Ginsberg could escape all that rubbish, all that restricting clutter. I wish I had a gimmick like that! I wish I could break out a small electronic shruti box and just start chanting! Where do I need to apply for the license to do that? Do I need to be a 1960s person? An eccentric? A famous poet? A visiting lecturer?
Ginsberg is a man I admire a lot. He's dead, of course, and now we have Devendra Banhart, a sort of "fashion Hindu", in something approximating the same cultural space. Now, all sorts of objections could be raised to Devendra -- and what's he doing in the men's fashion section of the New York Times, anyway? What kind of transcendence is that? -- but I'm not really interested in any of them. Anything that lifts America away from its dull denims, its dreadful protestant practicality, is fine by me. A use of fashion that lifts America away from itself -- away from its endless small talk about the weather and projects and success -- towards a recognition of the wisdom of India is, well, a correct use of fashion. The ghost of Ginsberg is there, doing good work.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-12 08:30 pm (UTC)Yes, it does. We've had these "post-Americans" from our very inception; America is unimaginable without them.
Americans are by definition uprooted, so we don't deplore "rootedness" (whatever that really means) as Europeans might, who grow up amid the tradtions and artifacts of the past. Perhaps Europeans take them for granted; a bit spoiled by being surrounded by such riches, viewing their legacy as a burden rather than a boon?
I think we Americans (or at least the Americans described above), while relishing the dynamism of this ceaseless cultural cross-pollination, sometimes crave this admittedly oft-idealized state of rootedness because we live in a rootless, fluid society, devoid of any universal traditions. The rootless future many Europeans seem to desire is where we've grown up—and I can speak from experience when I say that relentless novelty becomes tiresome after a point, unsatisfying.
But hey—good luck just the same, Europe. Maybe you have what we lack: a rich cultural foundation that might prevent you from making a complete hash of things. Fluidity and dynamism may be another matter, though.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-12 09:43 pm (UTC)http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maypole
Noone bought it. No wonder you Yankees remain rootless.
Perhaps it was the frogdance* that put them off?
http://www.smufjallgard.nu/Konfa2005/Bilder/IMGP2139_L.jpg
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-12 10:12 pm (UTC)As far as the frogdance(TM): It was probably the ensuing intense lower-back pain that dampened their continued enthusiasm (although it would be very funny to see all those southern beer bellies in mid-flight). You may find fellow dancers in Minnesota, of course. I'd say keep adding to the pot—something is bound to stick!
What we really need now is an influx of Catalonians and their poop-laden folk traditions. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caganer) That would liven things up a bit!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-12 10:26 pm (UTC)One of the worst things about the fluidity is how we constantly destroy our own culture for something new. "Everything new" can be great and all, but it's the fact that we can't seem to find a way to balance both our own American history with our obsession for newness.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-12 11:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-13 04:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-13 04:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-13 04:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-13 05:33 am (UTC)I have my bland, white-like-paper caucasian relations on one side and, when I tire of their incessant racism and ignorance, I have my Okinawan side to chill out in...and I can hang with Hawaiians and talk about Island People stuff.
It's nice to be rooted, just make sure you have more than one set.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-13 05:42 am (UTC)Nearly everyone has in this land of mutts, my own mutt self included. And if they don't, they often just borrow their neighbor's.