Monday, October 20, 2008

Spoiled Trout

In what appears to be a novel, but in fact is a critique of a hybrid world in the company between insdustrialism and nature, Richard Brautigan writes of a world caught between its natural form and urbanization. In the most natural form of the world there is trout fishing in America, but this leisurely past time of mankind has been hampered, even replaced, by industrial growth and the expansion of capitalism. Brautigan introduces this replacement as a phenomenon that is unrealized by mankind in his piece “Knock on Wood: (Part Two),” where he places himself in the shoes of a young, naieve boy determined to go trout fishing. Today’s generation is comprised of these naieve children, born into a world compromised by our forefathers’ destruction of nature. We are naieve because the tales of America’s natural fruit—trout—have deceived us into believing it’s still there and we can “almost feel [the] cold spray” of the troutstream (4). Some of us can even enjoy the beauty of these waterfalls via our deception: “[h]ow beautiful the field looked and the creek that came pouring down in a waterfall off the hill” (5). For many, this distanced enjoyment of life is satisfying, but the only way to discover the true composition of America is to personally search for it, which only a few (children in this case) set out to do. Brautigan recalls when he himself made this realization: when he mistook a woman for a stream of trout.

Trout Fishing in America represents a world where the nullification of mankind has become the norm, a process that harldy anybody seeks to reverse. Many people are indifferent to nature’s beauty by being blinded by their success in a material world, such as the rich man in “Sea, Sea Rider.” “These things make no difference to him. He’s rich. He has 3,859 Rolls Royces,” says a woman to the young boy when explaining the man’s indifference to sex (23). This man’s satisfaction from his economic success has left him disinterested in sex—one of the many trout in America. The man’s materialism has consumed him, leaving him desensitized to emotion, neither looking happy or sad. Emotions are the essence of humanity. This desensification shows that not only is the world becoming more unnatural, but man is becoming less human. The boy and woman represent the antithesis of the man, having had enjoyed the fruits of nature, “neither...[having] performed like millionaires in bed” (25). Ultimately, Brautigan is advocating that what results from materialism is a truly selfish being, interested only in self-pleasure, disabling the procreation of man.

America must stop this destructive trend now, Brautigan implies, because it cannot be reversed. The belly-up fish in “The Last Year the Trout Came up Hayman Creek” are the non-replenishable fruits of America. Once all the lonely old men (those free of urbanization) who appreciate the fish are gone, the trout will disappear and will not come back. The new wave of mankind may try to artifically instill these precious trout into the world, and to distanced people it may look like the fish are swimming, like the stairway in “Knock on Wood,” but up close the river is lifeless. America must realize the disappearance of its nation’s fruit and learn to appreciate it before it has all been rotted away.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Two Scavengers...Two Beauties

Ferlinghetti’s poem “Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes” depicts San Francisco as a place of economic opportunity and daily interaction among its socially divided classes.

One of the most easily noticeable elements of the poem is how it is visually organized. The lines alternate from the left to the right side of the page, creating a visual representation of the opposition of the “Scavengers” and the “Beautiful People.” Like the two cars at the stop sign, the opposing lines of the text pull together, making it hard to distinguish which is which. For the time they are stopped at the red light, these two very different types of San Franciscans come into contact with each other and for a second their realities seem impermanent.  While the cars are together at the red light, the scavengers gaze at a "odorless TV ad" for what Ferlinghetti makes out to be the perfect lifestyle.  Clearly the men want to transcend their scavenger status and live life as one of the “beautiful people.” No longer would the men have to scavenge around together, wearing red plastic blazers; they could leisurely ride with whom they choose, in real blazers.  The poem ends with a bit of uncertainty, and left me wondering when and how the cars left--who pulled away first and who got ahead?  I suppose he wants us to choose our own destiny.

Despite the distance between the two couples in this poem, it seems like Ferlinghetti is trying to promote San Francisco as the land that the many envision America to be—a place of freedom and economic opportunity. As he mentions in the last lines of the text, it is the “high seas/of this democracy” that enables fluidity between classes that make it seem as though “anything at all [is] possible” (60).  Wasn't he just complaining in the earlier pages about the new, yuppie lifestyle San Francisco has grown into?