Satyajit Ray’s ‘Apu Trilogy’, completed between 1955 and 1959, chronicles the life journey of a young boy, born to a poor Brahman family in rural India. Apu is bright and his teachers are compelled to take notice. They give him special consideration and instruction. Eventually, the boy lands in Calcutta at the University where many of his new-found friends dream of continuing their studies in Great Britain. From there, they all hope to go to America. It is a fair assessment (pre-Al-Qaeda) of the dreams young people harbor in many disparate parts of the world.
The movies, shot in black and white, are recognized for their expert portrayal of the universal themes Ray sets out to convey. These are movies that, once one has seen them, stay in one’s mind and become a part of one’s world view. Apu’s motivation to leave everything behind and reach the promise land of milk and honey, where the streets are paved with gold, is metaphorically unmistakable.
I have often thought of those – including myself – who’ve had the now questionable good fortune to grow up here - in the New York Metropolitan area, no less – in what has been traditionally perceived by many as the center of the universe. Where do we go to seek our fortune, to sacrifice our straight-jacketed heritage for the opportunity to do great and impossible things? Where are we to park our dreams when, by all accounts, we’ve already arrived by mere accident of birth?
Is it then our lot to turn against the systems that our forbearers have sweated bullets to put in place? Are we to trash it all and turn back the clock to raw feudalism? Is this the ‘change’ that will sustain our illusion of having done something worthwhile with our lives? Apparently so.
Why else would we (or anyone) now look to Marxism for answers? China mirrors us. It is the opposite of what we once were (not too long ago). Both systems are now under attack - the natives rattling their cages, wanting desperately to change places. They want liberty; we want bondage. Why else would we be so eager to trash the best of the best that’s ever been for the mere promise of a government check; empty store shelves; limited opportunities for employment and free self-expression.
Around the world, governments have outgrown their britches. The people’s vision of globalism has outpaced that of the ruling classes. Whereas the Zeitgeist dictates that globalism should be in our future, the concept as envisioned differs according to who articulates it.
In America, it is not the poor that clamor for social justice; it is not the poor who plot to incite revolution. It’s the rich, those at the top of the heap, who are plagued by guilt and ennui. It is our best educated (or those who’ve invested the most on their ‘education’) who have allowed themselves to be dazzled by elegant but meaningless social equations, and are now scheming quietly to turn this country (and all others like it) into a system of colorless gulags where existence is reduced to simple-minded brutality and heavy breathing.
How difficult to break the chains once we’re there! But at least it’s a challenge; one, that is a hell of a lot more daunting than it was tearing it all down.
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