"The Idea of America… Or What’s Left of It"
The importance of art and literature in an age of decline...
A Book Review by Doug Casey
"As many of you know, I’ve recently returned to my sometimes home here in the Backwater Socialist Republic of Uruguay, after having spent the summer season in the USSA. For all Uruguay’s drawbacks, it’s a pleasant enough country, more or less at the end of the road, where people mostly leave you alone to do whatever you want.
It’s been a long time since I could say that about the United States, where snitching has become something of a national pastime, both for members of the increasingly ubiquitous surveillance state and, much to my dismay, private citizens, too. Time was, one could get by without paying much attention to politics but, as the 5th century BCE Greek politician Pericles is said to have said, “Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you.”
It pays to be aware of the Leviathan’s movements and motivations. Even though the enlightened mind would rather invest its time in more productive and rewarding pursuits the State may have other ideas. In other words, while the pursuit of happiness is theoretically guaranteed by the long-forgotten document on which America was founded, that’s just theory. The reality is often very different.
Which brings me to a novel I just finished, "Morris, Alive." The book offers a cameo of the US today. And there are some things better captured in fiction than non-fiction. It acts as a sign along the road to perdition.
There are always signs along the road as a degenerate empire staggers toward collapse. Military misadventures abroad and economic ruin at home. Rising prices for basic goods and services along with generally lower standards of living. Growing political authoritarianism. Social antagonism and class warfare. Increasing nihilism, collectivism, and general moral decay. Add to those usual suspects a lack of appreciation for cultural and aesthetic values, and a nasty disrespect of tradition.
The cultural landscape of today’s America also marks a decline in appreciation for quality literature. The population, thanks in no small part to the scourge of anti-social media, is blighted by a shrinking attention span. It seems incapable of digesting anything beyond the 140 characters it takes to compose a snide “tweet.”
Gone are the days when people read real physical books in cafes or on train rides. Unless a novel is written by someone in a politically correct group - a Person of Color, a radical feminist, a communist, a person suffering from serious psychological and sexual aberrations, or all of the above - it won’t be reviewed by upmarket media or discussed in fashionable company. A working knowledge of the classics was once considered the mark of an educated man. Now it’s considered a badge of the white patriarchy. I’m not sure most people read anything that requires thought. Staring at one’s phone during a dinner “conversation,” or catching up on Buzzfeed Top 10 lists doesn’t count.
The so-called “reading public” is largely a misnomer; they mostly read scrolling FaceBook posts. I doubt one in a hundred college graduates today could cite more than a handful of works from the classics section of the fast-disappearing western canon. Having squandered four years and hundreds of thousands of dollars (of either their parent’s savings or government/taxpayer loans) attending various “studies” of debatable merit, tomorrow’s alleged “leaders” are as ill-versed in quality American and European literary works as medieval field peasants. But I suppose that’s to be expected as an empire slides into a new dark age.
Against this lamentable trend, my friend Joel Bowman published his excellent novel: "Morris, Alive." A classic bildungsroman in style, the story follows our young protagonist, Morris, as he journeys across the USA in search of the “Idea of America”… or what’s left of it.
The novel is full of witty dialogue, sound philosophical meditations and memorable scenes as Morris sets out from sea to shining sea on a journey of self-discovery. His great American road trip reminds me of Jack Kerouac, Robert Pirsig, or Hunter Thompson. Joel’s writing harks back to simpler times, before postmodernism and the age of grievances cast a shameful pall over the arts. Maybe it’s just me, but I prefer classical heroic narratives.
I hope I’m wrong when I say I don’t think the book will sell well. That’s nothing against the novel itself. On the contrary. Joel’s prose style, characters and plot development simply belong to a more graceful era. Back when readers weren’t “triggered” and writers “canceled” for broaching subjects like race relations and economic inequality. Personally, I like Joel’s mentioning “uncomfortable” historical facts. But worse, the novel features - wait for it - a straight, white male as the protagonist. That’s something akin to being a modern-day slave owner according to the woke minds infesting college faculty lounges today.
There are loads literary references in the book - Edgar Allen Poe, Lysander Spooner, H.L. Mencken - which I liked. Sometimes - not too often - Joel goes off on a literary riff. Slice of life stuff. Take this passage, from Chapter III:
“Winter dug itself into long, deep trenches that first year, the smog of America’s rust belt cities captured in the falling snow and packed tightly against the hard, frozen earth. Asphalt streets and windswept parking lots in places like Wilmington and Trenton and Philadelphia cracked and split along creeping hairlines, their subsequent depressions sinking into unseen potholes lurking beneath the ashen slush. A motorcar accident on one such road, a forlorn stretch between Pittsburgh and Titusville, left a young mother of three widowed and her husband, a drunkard and a philanderer on his last chance, ejected from this world through the shattering windscreen of her Oldsmobile clunker. Notification of the incident dissolved over the phone, left to hang lifelessly at the end of its hallway cord, as the woman shuffled to the fridge and, removing the unpaid registration bill from the straining magnet, let it fall into the trash can with the rest of the day’s news. She would tell the children after dinner, she supposed, when their favorite television show would be on to distract their attention.” ~ From "Morris, Alive" by Joel Bowman
Judging by the contemporary best-seller lists on Amazon and Oprah-style book clubs, Joel’s novel stands about zero chance at mainstream success. For that he would need to write a series about hunky teenage vampires or chart the “lived experience” of a gender fluid Congolese hermaphrodite seeking justice in a world that just doesn’t understand what it means to be a They/Them.
Morris, in contrast, pursues much-derided traditional values, compelling storytelling, and characters a sane human can actually identify with. It’s almost as if he’s suggesting there was something worth saving in the long and storied history of writers from Homer to Hemingway. That said, I doubt Joel minds whether the mainstream enjoys his latest literary foray or not. Like most libertarian thinkers and writers, Joel is somewhat of a “genetic mutant” in that he still cares about things like truth and beauty, even if most of the so-called cultural elites have forgotten all about them. Or actively despise them.
So, if you’re the rare reader who still values fluent prose, cares about real heroes and traditional values, and is looking to get a first edition from someone who may become famous as a talented writer, I suggest you pick up a copy of my friend’s debut novel: "Morris, Alive." If you’re anything like me, you might just find yourself recommending it to other, similarly-minded individuals."
o
“Five percent of the people think;
ten percent of the people think they think;
and the other eighty-five percent would rather die than think.”
- Thomas A. Edison
Joel’s (very grateful) Post Script: "Thanks to Doug for the kind and insightful words… and to you, dear reader, for supporting independent literary fiction. As mentioned above, Notes Members can download a copy of our debut novel, Morris, Alive (along with a second work, Night Drew Her Sable Cloak) and start reading today. If you’re not already a member and would like to access these works, feel free to join us right here:
If you’re the Old School type who prefers physical copies, consider joining our Founding Members subscription level. Then, just drop us a line with your preferred mailing address (home, office or post office box), and we’ll personally send you both copies directly. And as always, stay tuned for more Notes From the End of the World…"
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