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Friday, September 12, 2014

The Age of "After": Gass, Barthelme, and Coover

5/7/07
         Eric Hobsbawm’s examination of the “post” in “post-modernism” reveals that the third quarter of the 20th century is an age of decline or descent.  This revelation begs questions like what was before?  What is after, and what are we left with?  The novels of William Gass, Donald Barthelme and Robert Coover address and develop these questions and the idea of the latter part of the 20th century as a “funereal” age.  Gass in particular addresses the idea of a pre-existing life that is now destroyed: the Garden of Eden, and specifically the fall of man into sin.  This allegory calls to mind the major loss of innocence of the 20th century, World War II and the Holocaust, during which time the world became aware of the great potential for evil humans possess.  The novels Omensetter’s Luck, The Dead Father, and The Public Burning examine the reaction of humans to a profound loss of innocence and social reconstruction.
            The New World may have appeared to be a paradise to the European explorers, but it quickly became a place of disillusionment through the horrors of the 20th century.  Quickly, people began to look for a scapegoat, reasoning that once the responsible perpetrator is found, the world can restore order by punishing that person.  Coover’s The Public Burning chronicles such a reaction, through the fictional account of two people who were in reality blamed for selling secrets during the Cold War.  The main character, Richard Nixon, grapples with the growing realization that there is contradicting evidence against Julius and Ethel Rosenberg.  It is unclear whether they are being framed, or only Julius was guilty, or a myriad other possibilities Nixon cannot seem to overlook.  Meanwhile, the entire administration—as well as the patriotic spirit mascot Uncle Sam—is determined to sentence the Rosenbergs to death.  The novel posits the idea that often in a crisis as important as the Cold War, people will go to any lengths to be able to place blame.  Nixon’s disillusionment grows as he discovers the arbitrariness of the trial process with which America prides itself.  The circular nature of cruelty is perpetuated by humanity’s overwhelming desire to destroy the ones supposedly responsible for a cataclysmic event; and the government that in theory should protect the innocent ignores the “due process” mandate for its own justice system.  Nixon’s fixation on Ethel Rosenberg recalls to mind Eve who was blamed for man’s fall into sin, and his love for her may represent a kind of forgiveness and understanding that is lacking in the hearts of the entire country.
            Gass’ novel Omensetter’s Luck cites the human desire to return to this paradise.  The novels chronicles a kind of prelapsarian man, connected to nature rather than worldly goods, and is described as “a wide and happy man” (31).  His presence in the town of Gilean sparks a change in the way the townspeople view themselves, particularly Israbestis Tott, the preacher.  Omensetter’s carefree and friendly disposition is, perhaps, how Adam would have lived in the garden, before his fall into sin.  Meanwhile the townspeople attend church and live responsible, pious lives in order to receive redemption for their sins.  Omensetter’s presence is greeted at first with malice and confusion.  Henry Pimber fosters hatred, and then later develops a love for the prelapsarian man who trusts his luck to leave his carriage full of belongings open to the weather.  His faith in his luck is analogous to Adam’s complete faith in and dependence on God.  But after he partakes in the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, he becomes cynical and ashamed, so says the story.  The novel breaks with the traditional story when there is a confrontation between the so-called innocent and the damned.  The choice becomes not whether to give up paradise for knowledge as it was for Adam and Eve, but whether to give up responsibility for paradise is it is for the Gilean townspeople.  Once they observe Omensetter’s happiness, they can choose to emulate him or not.  Henry Pimber chooses Omensetter’s way, but just at the point when it seems Omensetter is losing his own paradise, and accepting responsibility by shining his shoes and cleaning his nails.  There seems to no longer be the option for paradise, and Pimber sees no other option than suicide.  Gass examines the possibility for a man to live in innocence while surrounded by a post-lapsarian world of sin and guilt, and finds that the consequences are at best confusing, and at worst dire.
            The results of the failure to place blame or revert to a prelapsarian state of innocence are, as Barthelme illustrates, a breakdown in communication and a society of sexual desire and emotional apathy.  The very structure of his novel, The Dead Father, suggests a very minimalist world of which descriptions are written in halting form: “The countryside.  Flowers.  Creeping snowberry.  The road with dust.  The sweat popping from little sweat glands” (13).  This style suggests a sterile, frigid tone, a distance from the visual and auditory facts.  The conversations are short-winded and often do not reveal a successful communication between the characters.  The use of tired clichés and the creation of new ones reveal gaps in communication and the devolution of language.  The characters discuss nostalgia for the old days while burying the past.  The men in the novel desperately request sex from the women who systematically deny them, except Julie and Thomas.  The small group of humans moving about suggests—further from the post-lapsarian—a kind of post-apocalyptic society in which nothing is left but their bodies.  But the presence of the two young women, and the frequent attempts they make at establishing communication between each other, as well as Julie’s use of physical touch at the end of the novel, suggest a hope for a future of communication and empathy.

            The term “post-modernism” possibly conveys hopelessness and apocalyptic undertones, when in some ways the novels attempt and achieve more than to make commentary on the state of humanity as it is now. While awareness of the dangers of living in a chaotic age (for instance the tendency to place full blame on people without regard for mercy or understanding) is important, the acknowledgement of possibilities is crucial.  All the novels seek to represent the post-modern human as one given to violence and judgment, but also one capable of great empathy and progress towards an establishment of communication.

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