Recently I went to the James J. Hill Library and checked out a copy of The Sun Also Rises, by Hemingway. I loved it. There is something so relevant about the Lost Generation... I also watched a documentary by Ken Burns on New York City.
F. Scott Fitzgerald was born in St. Paul, Minnesota. The Poet of the Jazz Age loved New York. His lost city.
I think America feels a bit like Fitzgerald's lost city. I remember the glittering world of my childhood. The wealth and security of that golden age where America was surreal and at peace. Or so one could almost imagine, if they tried.
The image of Hemingway's Brett and Jake listlessly lounging around at bars, getting intoxicated and hiding from themselves seems so like today. We were taught to reach for the moon and now we are finding that the earth at our feet can no longer hold us.
However, there is something refreshing and soothing about crashing to the ground. Although painful it feels so real. At least the air is thick enough to breath. Too much time in the clouds can be detrimental. Maybe?
It's just too bad it is this way. Rise and Fall. Rise and Fall. The pendulum swings. Some die and some live. They raise their young to embrace a new peace only to find more war on the horizon.
Am I right? I don't know.
Oh Brett what are we going to do with you?