The rain coming down hard outside the storied house and the backdrop of an NPR show on The War of the Worlds by Orson Welles make a potent incentive for another shallow philosophical post.
It's not new.
If you have been curious and patient enough to read more than a couple of posts on this blog, not an easy task, really, then you have encountered some that talked about narrative, about shaping reality through presentation.
Even a Microsoft PowerPoint presentation can do it, but this post makes a more sweeping statement.
What makes America, the United States, what it is today is....drum roll...storytelling.
The U.S. is the nation of storytelling. Storytelling in this country is so pervasive, so everywhere, like the air we breathe, equally taken for granted and - if you feel a bit cynic - equally polluted.
The blogster does not know why and how the U.S. became the nation of storytelling and does not feel the urge to go and ask the Internet. The obvious national story that is the frequently quoted and discussed "American Dream" seems to be just one of many stories that "make up" these United States.
There is a bewildering multitude of stories, often conflicting, difficult to understand and describe for someone not trained in the art of philosophy, in the art of talking for hours without saying anything, as a friend will describe it.
The blogster is also unable to fully reconcile dismissal of the concept of "American exceptionalism" with using the implicitly exceptionalist "the" nation of storytellers. It is a matter of degree, not of absolutes. Other nations tell stories, too.
Maybe the choice of 'nation' as the group of reference is inadequate, modern nations are young beasts in human history. The oldest, great stories after all are the religions, from different corners of the planet. They also tell us what happens when an individual pierces a heretofore powerful generally accepted story line.
Should we attempt to argue that there is something unique about American storytelling?
What would it be? Emotional depth, richer detail, less judgemental, more diverse?
You can find stories that support these criteria, but just as easily others that disprove them. Just ask American minorities, or look at Russian writers for the emotional depth.
After a full two minutes of pondering, the blogster decided that the following aspect is the one thing that makes American storytelling different from that of the usual suspects (i.e. the few other countries we think we know enough about): Americans as a whole have been aware that they were engaged in storytelling. Next time you watch the six o'clock news, count how many times you hear the word story.
The rain has stopped, the sun is out again, time to wrap it up.
Extrapolating this, the blogster claims that nations or groups tend to do worse if they don't spell out that they are telling a story or if they collectively forget or suppress the fact.
As long as we can acknowledge that we are always telling a story, we leave the door open to other points of view. And to peace, and to progress.
Is it really that simple?
How was this post as a story?
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