What Is America?

 I've heard it said that America is an idea more than a nation. Founded on the inalienable rights in the Declaration of Independence, on the "We the People" in the Preamble to the Constitution, an idea of freedom and unity. I don't think this notion is particularly liberal or conservative. Many conservatives I know believe strongly that America should be a country in which all are considered equal, and the only valid rank is that of talent, hard work, and determination.

 

So I was surprised to read in the New York Times that some feel that America should be a Christian country, generally a specifically white, northern European Protestant Christian country. I suppose it is true that the settlers of Massachusetts  Bay Colony did envision such a thing, but they were only one group, and they generally didn't like the others. They hated the Baptists of Rhode Island. They had no tolerance for the Dutch down in New Amsterdam. If a Quaker came from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts, they would chop off his hand. If he came back, they'd bore a hole through his tongue. Fortunately, these violently unpleasant people did not have their way, and to be formed into a country, they had to agree that there would be no official religion in the United States. It's right there in the First Amendment, the very first right in all the listing of American rights.

 

This article from the Times had a quote from someone who objected to the notion that America is an idea more than an ethnicity. He said, "It leaves out some on the right who don't agree." This gave me pause. You see, the America I envision is fundamentally inclusive. Every citizen should be able to sign on to this great idea of America. We can argue about what it means and what to do about, sure, but we all agree it is to be a country defined by its people, that embraces fundamental civic rights, and the fundamental freedom everyone should enjoy. Am I missing something, that someone feels excluded?

 

I realized that I am. Embracing my vision means giving up a vision of America as a particular ethnic tribe. But I also realized that I don't care. Anyone can embrace this nation of democracy. But doing so requires us to embrace the freedom of others. If you want to live in an America where you can pick and choose who belongs, based on race or faith or "tradition" or whatever you call it, you are taking a stand against democracy, against the freedoms on which this country was built. No one has to be excluded, but if you choose to be, that's your problem. 

Boots of Spanish Leather

 I have long loved this Bob Dylan song. It is a poignant story of love lost, and is remarkably musical for Dylan. In classic folk-song style, it is a dialogue between the man and his departing lover. She offers to send him treasures from her travels, and he declines, saying all he wants is to have her back. She offers three times, he refuses three times. Then she drops this bombshell: "I don't know when I'll be coming back again. It depends on how I'm feeling." He wishes her well, and then asks if she couldn't send him a nice pair of Spanish boots.

 

I was always struck by the coldness of the girl's snub of her faithful lover: I'll come back when and if I feel like it. But also by the coldness of his reply: on second thought, a nice pair of boots are better than you.

 

The other day I heard an interview with Suze Rotolo, Dylan's girlfriend at the time, the very one who appears on the cover of his iconic Freewheelin' album. Apparently, she had lived her whole life in New York City, had never gone to college, and got an opportunity to go to Italy. It was something she wanted to do, because she felt constrained, she wanted to discover who she was beyond "Bob Dylan's girlfriend." The plan had been for her trip to be 3 months at most. She wound up staying 8.

That's when it hit me what was missing from "Spanish Leather." Her. Who is this girl the singer loves so much? Why is she going to Spain? No idea. All that matters is she is not where he wants her, at his side. Now, that's not horrible, every lover wants their beloved to be with them. But look again at the words with which he declines her presents.

 

No, there’s nothing you can send me, my own true love
There’s nothing I wish to be owning
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled
From across that lonesome ocean

 

What is this word, "unspoiled"? There's a sexual meaning of "spoiled" that is hard to ignore in this context. He doesn't just want her back, he wants her back without her having had sex with anyone else. It's striking that, in this moment, when he's trying to say how much he just misses her companionship, he slips in this caveat. There's a way you could come back to me that I wouldn't want.

But even if we don't go with the sexual meaning of "spoiled," why "spoiled"? Is his concern that something would happen that would change her, so that she lost her value to him? Suddenly I'm looking back at the previous line, with its word "owning." He doesn't want her to lose her value. 

 

Now remember the context of the story behind the song. The idea of going on a journey to find yourself was a part of the culture of the times. Kerouac's On the Road, or Steibeck's Travels With Charley. Was the possibility of Rotolo's self-discovery threatening to Dylan?

 

How different things can look, when you see them from the other side.