🌏🌇"America, Their America" by J.P. Clark

🌏🌇"America, Their America" by J.P. Clark

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Steel, stone, glass boxes! Not one

A carton

To handle with care!

Castellated, crowd

Miles on end, fall one

Over the other, and Empire State, the proud

Peak flying a pennon

Above this nightmare

Of ladders, beams, bolts, fumes, refuse …

And below!

America, Broadway, Madison,

Park, Lexington

And all the other streets

And avenues, east and west,

In a blue splash of steel

Cascade over channels, drop tubes past

Collisions of shafts, are

Sparking conveyor belts, turning,

Churning, carrying like rapids

The boil and market of a continent

Incontinent …

So rears

The anthill

Into the rainbow sky –

The intercellar city, the tail

In the mouth files of anonymous

Citizens overburdened with work,

The soldiers guarding well

Beyond the gates, each

Together, severally

And equally

For the commonweal

But here,

Where is the care,

the pool,

the queen?

Another, at once more obvious and oblique pictures the city as some promiscuous, chic client of neon-lit night clubs –

A dumpling by day

At night a fairy

In a dance of stars.

And yet a third, almost an epigraph, writes off the great iron heap in rather funeral terms –

The skyscrapers and

Bridges, among the avenues

And isles, are pyramids

And aqueducts, cutting

Swathes on a tired ground

Saddling streams running to sand.

Admittedly, these are all uncharitable remarks, but driving through the many-storeyed mounds and obelisks of New York, all of them set out in their square lots and rows, and then running every now and again past its vast, sprawling burial grounds with all those spendid tombs and tablets, several of them decked with fresh flowers and flying flags, authentic versions of the star-spangled banner, the eye tired of looking upon stone and glass forms, whether squat or slender, and the fact became more blurred in the mind as to which structure and block was put up to the dead and which to the living.

At long last night came. Leaving London earlier in the day, the gimmick had been that you take off at 11.30 a.m. and touch down five hours later at exactly the same hour in New York. Actually we did not arrive till almost double that time. By then we had been served lunch in the air. But what with the weird protraction of day going west I was to have yet another lunch, a regular Nigerian dish of jolof rice and stewed chicken, washed down by long draughts of cold beer. The effect was to the restore the bottom which I sort of felt and feared had dropped out of my being. One of those interminable parties at the United Nations was going on that night, and my old school friend, into whose apartment I had moved, after his initial grumble at not being warned in good time of my coming, brightened up on the second Bourbon and ginger, and it was in that expansive spirit, he suggested I come along with him. I demurred, said I needed a good warm bath, and that even a vigil long as that for an elder of the clan gone home had to come to an end sometime.

As it happened, I kept further vigil on that my first night in the United States. I was curled up in the bath, splashing and singing to myself, (spluttering it was more like), when the telephone rang in the sitting room. ‘Let it,’ I muttered above the suds. ‘Whoever is calling will hang up soon enough.’ But the buzz-buzzing noise of it went on, and worse than that of a fly or mosquito, it was futile trying to beat it off my ears. So cursing and sopping wet, I put about me the towel nearest to hand and padded out into the bedroom to take the call there. The voice at the other end was that of a woman obviously heavy with caresses – more for her own self.

🌏🌇"America, Their America" by J.P. Clark

Overview:

Plot: The novel follows the protagonist, likely modeled after J.P. Clark himself, who travels to the U.S. on a scholarship. As he navigates the American academic, social, and cultural landscape, he is confronted with the realities of race, inequality, and the American way of life, which often stands in stark contrast to the ideals presented to outsiders. The protagonist’s journey is marked by disillusionment and a critical reflection on Western culture through the lens of an African intellectual.

Setting: Set primarily in the United States, the novel explores university campuses, urban spaces, and perhaps other regions that emphasize the sharp social divides in American society during the 1960s. The setting plays a critical role in highlighting the alienation and culture shock experienced by the protagonist.

Themes:

Cultural alienation: A major theme is the protagonist’s feeling of estrangement in a foreign land that presents itself as a land of opportunity but, in reality, is fraught with contradictions.
Racism and inequality: The novel deals with the theme of racial discrimination and class disparity in the U.S., as viewed from an outsider's perspective.
Identity and belonging: As the protagonist experiences American society, he reflects on his own identity as an African and his place in a world that is dominated by Western power structures.
Critique of Western civilization: J.P. Clark offers a sharp critique of American and, by extension, Western ideals, questioning the narrative of America as a moral and cultural leader.

Characters:

Protagonist: A Nigerian intellectual who is the author's alter ego, struggling to reconcile his expectations of America with the reality he encounters. His journey is one of increasing skepticism and critical reflection.

American academics and peers: The novel likely features a variety of American characters, including academics, fellow students, and everyday people, who help to illustrate the cultural and racial divides in American society.

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