1919

http://www.hyperebaaktiivne.ee/2022/0...

Aitäh, Koolibri, raamatu eest!

John Dos Passos "USA triloogia II: 1919" oli teine raamat, mis minuga Ameerikas ringi seikles. Sarja avaosa "USA triloogia I: 42. laiuskraad" (loe blogipostitust) andis aimu suurriigist sajandivahetusel ja mulle meeldis väga, et see enne reisi loetud sai. Järjega alustasin küll alles lennukis tagasiteel Eestisse.

20. sajandi algus, USA ja Euroopa. Joe, Dick, Eveline ja Anne on ameeriklased, kes erineval moel leiavad oma koha Esimeses maailmasõjas. Igaühel on oma roll, kes on eesliinil, kes tagalas, kes seilab merd kaubalaevastikus. Nende kodumaal kogub endiselt hoogu töölisliikumine, kuigi selle juhte karistatakse karmilt, samuti nagu patsifiste. Ben on ameeriklane, kes ei sõida üle Atlandi ookeani, vaid vaimustub revolutsioonijuttudest ning võtab aktiivselt meeleavaldustest osa.

"USA triloogia II: 1919" jätkab sealt, kus eelmine osa pooleli jäi - algab I maailmasõda. Eeldasin millegipärast, et rohkem on juttu sellest, kuidas see mõjutab elu Ameerikas, aga põhitegevus viis hoopis Euroopasse, Pariisi ja Rooma. Kui eelmises raamatus olid tegelased üle Ameerika laiali, siis siin on nad rohkem koos, lubades nende lugudel omavahel põimuda. Euroopasse jõuavad ka juba tuttavad Janey, Ward ja Eleanor, aga nende toimetusi näeb ainult teiste tegelaste pilgu läbi.

Üllatav oli ka see, et sõjategevusele endale teos ei keskendu. See on lihtsalt taustaks. Rindel käib peategelastest vaid üks ja temagi ei lähe sinna sõdima. Rohkem saab lugeda sellest, kuidas ameeriklased rahulepingu allkirjastamist ootavad, kõvasti pidu panevad, armuvalus piinlevad, satuvad sekeldustesse ja rabelevad neist välja. Mul ei tekkinud ühtki lemmikut, kellele ma väga kaasa oleks elanud, aga endiselt oli huvitav lugeda, kuidas erinevad tegelased läbi elu kulgesid. Veidi küll tekitas tülgastust, kui palju oli juttu igaühega voodisse heitmisest, suguhaigustest ja rasedate hülgamisest.

Stiililt on triloogia teine osa täpselt samasugune nagu esimene ehk vahelduvad eri tüüpi peatükid. Mulle küll tundus, et oli rohkem romaaniosa ja vähem pealkirjade, uudisekatkete ja lauluridade ning mõttejoru virrvarri, sekka parajalt ülevaateid tuntud inimeste elulugudest. Kui jutustavad peatükid jälgivad peategelasi Euroopas, siis kontrastiks on pilguheidud töölisliikumisele Ameerikas, kus pea iga punane aktivist trellide taha saadetakse. Toonilt on raamat eelmisest süngem - taustaks olev sõda, jõhkrad kokkupõrked töölisliikumise ja selle vastaste vahel ning mitu peategelast leiavad õudse lõpu.

This book is the second part of the USA trilogy, and the comments I made in my review of the first book, The 42nd Parallel, pretty much apply to this book as well. The author continues to use those four narrative modes which provide a wide sweep, but shallow depth, of early 20th century life.

The book may be shallow in its treatment of what's normally considered to be history. But the narrative goes into exhaustive detail with regard to the carnal thoughts and actions of the featured fictional characters. Inconvenient pregnancies continue to be a concern, and one in particular is solved by having the woman be in an airplane when its wing falls off. Only authors of novels have the ability to solve problems in such exotic ways. It's interesting to note that the man responsible for this pregnancy is the fictional character most similar to the author. The story reminds the reader that the people of the early 20th century had human frailties.

The book features multiple examples of the suppression of internal dissent during and immediately after WWI. Once again the book gives ample coverage to members of the Industrial Workers of the World (Wobblies). Most of these individuals considered the Russian Revolution and the overthrow of the Czar as the beginning of a new glorious chapter in world history. Some of them assumed the that spread of Communism was inevitable. One of these Wobblies is lynched near the end of this book. Which reminds the reader of a reoccurring ironic question. Why would a mob made up of working class people lynch a union organizer who advocates for better wages and working conditions for the working class?

This book concludes with an elegiac biography of the body selected to be the "unknown soldier."

The second novel in his USA trilogy. A very realistic, gritty, unhopeful look at American life in the titular year. Not really a fun read, but an enlightening one. In this world, men treated women as sex objects, fit only for throwing away when they'd used them once or twice. In other words, not so very different from today. The women seemed surprisingly modern, too. Many of them wanted careers, they wanted to do things other than have children and marry the first man who made them pregnant, but whom they didn't necessarily want to settle down with. The characters seem alive and flawed.
The labor movement's another major theme. Folks are always joining a union or starting a strike, and in those days that meant you might get shot at. I think what I'm trying to say is that people didn't automatically assume that because the boss owned the business, he deserved all the profits, an idea that seems to have fallen by the wayside today. A dangerous idea, I suppose.
If you read this great novel, don't get this edition. It has too many typos, more than I've seen in any book I've read in a long time. Very bad proofreading.

I can't give this one star, because it's not quite as bad as some of the really reprehensible trash I've read in the past. I will say, however, that I am glad that Mr. Dos Passos is not still alive, or I'd be compelled to sock him in the mouth. It takes a real miserable son of a bitch to write such miserable sonsabitches as exist in these books. And it takes a worse one to relentlessly kill off any character that shows the least bit of hope, selflessness, or true love. George RR Martin is a total softy compared to this guy, nay, a poseur. Dos Passos kills off anything that smacks of hope, anything that even tries to do good, and any relationships are the very definition of dysfunctional. Oh, don't even try to blame it on the era and the other writers of his group-- sure, Hemingway had some miserable endings and hopeless situations, but at least his characters knew how to love and actually attempted to find happiness. Dos Passos doesn't just kill off the girls, force them into abortions, and abandon them en masse, he even kills the damn parakeet. To say I hate these books is an understatement.

Despite the title, all of this book takes place during WWI except the last two dozen or so pages which are post war. The construction of this novel is the same as its predecessor, The 42nd Parallel. These novels comprise a series, and should definitely be read in order.

Some of the characters are those from "42nd" and some are introduced in this one. I think the sections with the character headings could be likened to short stories. In some instances these "short stories" were inter-connected, that one character would have a cameo appearance or even a supporting role in another. I believe one of the characters was somewhat autobiographical.

I found Dos Passos leftist politics more prevalent here. Many times I thought he wrote with bitterness and cynicism. For me, this made for hard reading. For enjoyment, I'm hard put to give this more than 3-stars, but because there is more to this series than a relaxing read, I'm willing to find another star. I don't anticipate the next installment will be much easier, but I fully intend to complete the series soon.

It’s basically, sorta, like this:

“She makes me so unsure of myself
Standing there but never ever talking sense
Just a visitor you see
So much wanting to be seen
She'd open up the doors and vaguely carry us away

It's the customary thing to say or do
To a disappointed proud man in his grief
And on Fridays she'd be there
But on Mondays not at all
Just casually appearing from the clock across the hall

You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
I'm the church and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

The Continent's just fallen in disgrace
William William William Rogers put it in its place
Blood and tears from old Japan
Caravans and lots of jam and maids of honor
Singing crying singing tediously

You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Yes, you're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
I'm the bishop and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Efficiency efficiency they say
Get to know the date and tell the time of day
As the crowds begin complaining
How the Beaujolais is raining
Down on darkened meetings on the Champs Elysées

You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
And I'm the church and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
You're a ghost la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
I'm the church and I've come
To claim you with my iron drum
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la”

I'll start by saying how much I love the U.S.A. Trilogy. There's nothing like it in American letters, which is too bad, nothing of the pumping, forward-throttle of lives splayed over the massive events of their day. The first volume is electric, for the most part, showing the often frenetic, restless movements of its characters against a backdrop of a nation that was only just figuring out what it was, post-Civil War, during expansion, industrialization, and coming into its own. In this volume, we see how America reacts to World War I, equating war-lust with patriotism, and to the Russian Revolution, dropping itself like a ton of bricks on labor organizers and various pinks and reds.

This second novel, however, lacks some of the former's vitality. The way the characters keep bumping into each other feels constricted (one might prefer them to never cross paths). While Dos Passos performs admirably with his female characters, especially in terms of their sexuality, there's a ton of overlap in identity. There's not much difference between Eleanor Stoddard and Eveline Hutchins -- Janey Williams, in the first book, is more appealing -- and here we get Daughter, who is traced from admirably delineated Texas cloth, but is more of the same.

It's too much to ask Dos Passos to look at black characters, Hispanic characters, I suppose; he's writing within his wheelhouse, but there's too much interest in these higher society types. Essentially, the issue with the last quarter (or so) of the first novel erupts here. The Mac-surrogate from the first novel is Joe Williams, a lunkheaded, brutish seafarer: he occupies much of the beginning, and almost endlessly. The middle is occupied by those adjacent to the war in Europe. We're treated to drinking and wandering and screwing and it gets a bit mindless, too. Meanwhile, the sorta-sage eminence from the first, J. Ward Morehouse, shows up to a bit too much narrative admiration, in my opinion.

There's a sense of exhaustion here, as if JDP wasn't quite as electrified as he was for most of The 42nd Parallel. We don't see much of the war -- which is fine; I'd expect his readers were well-aware of it -- and perhaps the fresh anger at the war (for whomever bore it) is hard to grasp now, the jumpy energy of Woodrow Wilson's League of Nations and new ideals. But the capsule portraits of major figures lack the poetry of the previous volume, a few going on too long, Joe Hill's (frex) barely a whisper and too short, and we don't quite, in my opinion, grasp the ideas shuttling around in the distance as they infect, or don't, these characters. Late, with Ben Compton, do we get that old electricity: Dos Passos wakes up when he's talking about labor and these poor, befuddled, doomed street philosophers.

The whole novel isn't entirely successful. But not quite there, for Dos Passos, and at least in this trilogy, is still terrific. As leaden and long as some parts are, as a bit lost to history as other parts are (he didn't think to fully translate 1919 to us a century later!), so much of this is very good. In his prelude to the entire set, he says U.S.A. is the speech of the people and boy can you feel and hear it. When he's really working, his prose is exceptional, enlivened by vertiginous drops into close third / free-indirect discourse, and his knack for impressionistically setting a scene, commanding characters' emotional content, hitting nervy, expressive detail, before whisking away in time using barely a sentence, is tremendous.

So, perhaps not a sum of its parts, but just an amazing achievement, still. There's a sickening, enlivening thing (both) that happens when we see these characters strive and flail and not really go anywhere, or have any huge impact (that is) on the events around them. They come and go -- Janey Williams, so effective in the last book, is nowhere to be seen, here. Mac is long gone. There's something amazing about this, even if the author didn't quite make it narratively pungent, although I suspect the impossibility in this regard. Only late, frex, do things get jumpy with labor strikes and Ben Compton, as well as the drama around Daughter's eventually miserable situation.

The middle volume of USA takes us into the European theater of WWI with many of the characters from 42nd Parallel and some new ones. The cynicism of the ambulance drivers and the corridors of the peace discussions reminded me of the way that Heller and Pynchon described WWII in Europe. The echos of anti-Semitism sadly presage the catastrophies that will arrive later in the 20s and 30s as the Nazis rise to power. It is interesting to note that Dos Passos was himself and ambulance driver during this period of the war, and that The Camera Eye sections are usually his own autobiographical memoirs.
I am a bit mystified as to why this book did not win the 1932 Pulitzer given the relatively obscurity of winner Stribling's The Store.