the heel press

An original idea: such a loaded conception nearly extinct to this world. The only form of its existence seems to resonate in the works of those who choose not to partake in a search for "it" but who formulate a systematic and desperate criticism of its absence. Are we blinded by the thick cloud of a world plagued by commercialization and standardization? Have we become what was predicted of us? Are we living in a "Brave New World"? Surely it is not the year "1984" anymore but the significance of the date can be overshadowed by the truth of a prediction. Huxley and Orwell envisioned it. Has the prophecy been fulfilled?

The last main surge of originality seemed to have its roots in the early 20th century when the writers and thinkers of that time were dubbed what Gertrude Stein called the "Lost Generation." It is interesting that those who were "lost" seemed to express more purity, originality, innovation, and individuality that we can even imagine possible in the world today. The "Lost Generation" was plagued by what Malcolm Cowley called "deracination" and was forced to turn to ex-patriotism to find some sort of meaning or value, but even still, they found it.

Fitzgerald, Crane, Hemingway, Wilder, Dos Passos, Cowley, and others rebelled against the traditionalism and conformity that represented the literature of the time and created an artistic version of their own. Some of the best pieces ever written were born from this version, and we are lucky enough today to be able to read and re-read the genius it exposes. Because we are living in a time where typography must take a step down and yield to the powers of the all-mighty television, a mental journey through the pages of some great original art is all the more revitalizing. And to do this, we must rely on past generations.

You might hear people today proclaim joyously that "Dan Brown is our savior. 'The Da Vince Code' was the re-birth of a passion for literature. The Kids are reading again!" But what has Brown done for literature? His books will eventually be movies one day and make millions of dollars. The crowds that flock to see "The Mona Lisa" might even be a little thicker, but what does that accomplish besides ultimately just further feeding the massive monster of commercialization that thrives in capitalism?

The difference with Ernest Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" is that it inspired a way of life. College students around the nation started talking like Hemingway's characters and the beauty of simple conversation was born. Hemingway instilled a passion and love for dialogue, and he made people appreciate the simple art of being around other people. Hemingway established that the most significant meaning in life arises from those simple moments of conversation, and people were better off for reading him. He shone the path of hope with exuberant lights, and dialogue became a vehicle for the establishment of a second chance. And, most importantly, he recognized the single most important theme in all of literature: the answer to survival does not lie in challenging the meaninglessness of life or attempting to disprove it, but rather, in accepting and trying to co-exist amongst it.

But it is far too early to throw in the towel yet. We must have faith; hope still bears its presence in glimpses that come every so often and stay long enough to have an effect, but fade too quickly for any permanence. There is still a chance and it takes human form in Jim Jarmusch, the writer and director of Coffee and Cigarettes. He sees it, he feels it, he is desperate for its return, and most importantly, he feels like we still have a chance.