lamerica
I got caught up in the mania last night, severely wishing I was more attached to the event. Shots of crazed crowds around the US exuding pure political and historical joy had me re assessing my national identity again. I love Canada. Canada is weird and unsure, lovable in the same way as the smart but quiet kid from high school who appears on the local scene ten years after graduation. And now he’s really cute and makes horror films.
But I kept thinking of the scene two weeks ago when i was up alone at 1 am during the acceptance speeches as most of the nation fell softly asleep, unworried and uninspired. I’m so jealous of Americans (like the smart but quiet kid from high school). They’re totally allowed to be patriotic. They’re even allowed to get their flag tattooed on their body (I don’t want a flag tattoo but I’d like the option of it meaning more than I like to go camping at Algonquin). If you have an American flag tattoo it probably means you almost died, and don’t get you started on patriotism because you’ll either cry or split someone’s lip.
The United States was almost lost and now it’s found. Typical. Leave it to them to get everyone worked up again. They keep pushing and pushing and pushing international patience to the brink and then do something really great. I understand this caution, that Obama is a mere man and not the saviour of the world. But I think that whatever he is and however mortal, he’s a huge symbol that America is still not a real country. It gets away with everything because it’s a mythical figment of of our imaginations that embodies everything that’s ever happened from the creation of the world. I mean, wtf? A month ago we thought the country was doomed but today, redemption sweeps across the land. It’s so sudden. This can’t be reality. That’s why I love America, wish I could live in America, wish I was America.
I’m one of the most critical people I know, but last night I felt all criticism seep out of my body. All I wanted to do was feel positive and hopeful and embrace this mythical thing. Because I recently noted that Canada is moderate. The whole country recently noted it (democratically). And I get choked up about it, and a rush of love and affection. But the idea that I would paint my face and dance in the street over anything that happens in this country in my life time is ridiculous. The hope and optimism I feel within Canadian Politics is systematic, intellectual, controlled and sarcastic.
Somehow at some point America became a projection of the whole world’s hopes and fears. Last night it came to light that I didn’t really understand the US political process. There was a vague feeling in the room that I should know. And it’s true. There is a sense that everyone in the world should know what’s going on in the USA. Our fates are attached to what happens there. The American myth affects me, even though I am not American. We perpetuate this bizarre global domination by loving them and hating them, celebrating in our streets their successes and failures and following their election more closely on TV then our own (on CNN and CBC, incidentally). It is not the best country in the world, but it’s definitely the most interesting and the most important because it exists outside of reality. If America ceases, the world must confront the impending end of the world. As long as it redeems itself (impossibly and suddenly), the impossible is still possible.
If Obama saves nothing else, he saved this outrageous narrative.
