J. Hector St John de Crèvecoeur & the evolution of American Exceptionalism as an Ideology

In the third installment of his 'Letters from an American Farmer', French-born Hector St John de Crèvecoeur invites us to consider "What then is the American, this new man?". It is this idea, such is its depth, that almost single-handedly constitutes the premise for Crèvecoeur's series of letters.

In his belief that the creation of the American nation and by default, its own ethnicity and social order marked a sufficient departure from the traditions of the Old World to label the American as a 'new man', Crèvecoeur attributes a sense of the 'exceptional' to the American's fundamental identity. However, while this manifests itself here as an example of logistical exceptionalism through the American's geographical translocation and cultural and political differentiation, Crèvecoeur quickly adapts his notion of 'exceptionalism' to encompass ideas of identity, ideology and potential beyond the aforementioned literal translations of the concept. This is made clear when Crèvecoeur states that it is these new Americans who "are carrying along with them that great mass of arts, sciences, vigour, and industry which began long since in the east" and that it is they who "will finish the great circle". Here, Crèvecoeur argues that the future progression of these disciplines (which may be characterized broadly as European products of the enlightenment) is only possible in the New World while implying that the ability of the European peoples to finish this "great circle" has withered in light of their flaws as a set of monarchies, cultures and sovereign nations. Consequently, Crèvecoeur firmly establishes this notion of 'American Exceptionalism' wherein the American has an innate capacity for excellence that significantly surpasses his global contemporaries.

Although Crèvecoeur's articulation of his phenomenon is perhaps the most concise and poignant, its origins perhaps lie in the writings of John Winthrop and his often-cited phrase of "a city on a hill" in reference to the colony of New England. In this quotation, Winthrop uses the idea of the 'city' as an epitome of civilization and its connotations of resisting the Native 'Savages' and imposing God's will on the land as an optimistic aspiration for the utopia that he imagines the New World might become. Furthermore, the concept of this city existing on a hill suggests that this civilization is a project worthy of admiration that will supersede previous failed attempts at creating this religiously-mandated social order, therefore alluding to a kind of 'American Exceptionalism', even before the idea of America was fully conceived on a cultural and geopolitical level. While Winthrop's words (pre-dating Crèvecoeur's letter by some 150 years) perhaps constitute the first instance of an attempt to define or advocate the existence of 'American Exceptionalism', his words seem less precise on the matter, and offer a wider scope for interpretation in comparison with Crèvecoeur's notion of "the great circle". Consequently, Crèvecoeur generally retains credit for the origins of the ideology, although it is nonetheless important to recognize its literary longevity and gradual emergence from the traditions of the colonial discourse on early settlement.

Arguably the single most iconic demonstration of 'American Exceptionalism' came in 1886 with the de
dication of the Statue of Liberty in New York City, NY. An interpretation of the statue with specific reference to the ideology of 'American Exceptionalism' is overwhelmingly accessible, perhaps accounting for the statue's iconic status as its principal example in popular culture. The connotations of Liberty herself holding aloft a torch as a kind of example and guiding light draws striking parallels with the writings of Winthrop and Crèvecoeur. Indeed, the latter's acknowledgement of America's inherent European qualities is represented through the statue's origins as a French-designed and constructed monument. This similarity arguably reveals the fragility of 'American Exceptionalism' as an ideology and represents some of the internal tensions and definitions of identity that have interacted to form America and its resultant exceptionalism.

Finally, it is worthy to note how this ideology has remained embedded deep within the contemporary consciousness of America's politics and culture. In 1998, then secretary-of-state Madeleine Albright stated on NBC's Today Show in reference to growing political tensions in Iraq that:

 "if we have to use force, it is because we are America; we are the indispensable nation. We stand tall and we see further than other countries into the future, and we see the danger here to all of us." 

In this statement, Albright emphatically reinforces the ideology of 'American Exceptionalism' through a denigration of other sovereign states who she implies are incapable of dealing with the threat in the way that America can. Furthermore, she uses this perceived strength as a way of justifying military action in Iraq which, when finally manifested between 2003-2011, proved extremely divisive both internally and externally for the United States, earning much scorn from the global community. Ultimately, Albright's statement provides more questions than it does answers and, as scholars and literary analysts, should force us to reconsider the way in which the concept of 'American Exceptionalism' has evolved from its origins in the writings of those such as Crèvecoeur.

N. Scott Momaday, The Arrowmaker & Words as a Virus

In 'The Man Made of Words', N. Scott Momaday constructs a world view wherein "our most essential being consists in language" and that the "morality of a verbal dimension" is intrinsic to the nature of the human condition itself. Furthermore, Momaday not only interprets these ideas as an articulation of our "definite reality", but as a "world of [...] infinite possibility". Here, Momaday prioritizes our capacity for linguistic expression and its resultant effects above other elements of our human character, arguing that it is language which exists symbiotically with human experience which in turn, he seems to argue comprises our "living memory" which gives meaning to our lives through our shared cultural heritage, presented in this case through stories.

This concept and its seemingly inexhaustible capacity to reveal meaning is perhaps manifested most poignantly in the story of 'The Arrowmaker', a celebrated narrative in the Kiowa cultural tradition. When faced by an unnamed, unidentified and undefined human (immediately interpreted as an external threat), the Kiowa arrowmaker calls out, under the pretense of speaking with his wife, the following:

"I know that you are there on the outside, for I can feel your eyes upon me. If you are a Kiowa, you will understand what I'm saying, and you will speak your name."

Upon receiving no reply, the arrowmaker immediately shoots and kills his perceived enemy, thus confirming the vitality and power of language as the central mechanism through which he protects himself. Indeed, Momaday states that, through his triumph, the arrowmaker becomes "the man made of words" who has "consummate being in language" which comprises the "world of his origin, and his posterity", echoing the idea of language and story as articulations of our "living memory" and its associated power. As personified through the arrowmaker, Momaday also states that these ideas represent the element of risk, which he argues is fundamental to the concept and realization of language itself.

It is this concept of risk and its interaction with the spoken elements of our being wherein it has the capacity to destroy or protect the speaker which arguably remains most relevant to a modern and Western-centric discourse on language and literature. Such ideas recall an often-cited quote by the 20th Century author William S. Burroughs within which an attempt is made to describe the power of language through the metaphor and archetype of the parasite. it reads as follows:

"From symbiosis to parasitism is a short step. The word is now a virus"

Here, Burroughs argues that the meaning of language has transitioned from a position of "symbiosis" with what he described as "the 'Other Half'" (in reference to the elements of our being that we deem to be 'unknown', 'unexplored') to a position of "parasitism" where the word is seemingly nothing but risk. While this idea is certainly echoed in Momaday's retelling of the story of the arrowmaker who "puts his very life in the balance", surely even a rudimentary analysis of the story and its themes confirms that labels such as "symbiosis" and "parasitism" are not, as Burroughs seems to suggest, mutually exclusive, as in having the courage to speak, the arrowmaker himself proceeds from a position where the word risks becoming a parasite, to a situation where he is again safe and protected, thus reconfirming the word's capacity for "symbiosis".

Nonetheless, Burroughs' idea remains profound in this discussion, especially when considered through the lens of clinical psychologist and professor of psychology at the University of Toronto, Dr. Jordan B. Peterson. In reference to Burroughs's idea, Peterson states that "The strange idea, the stranger and the pathogen [...] are all the same thing [...] because they're all external threats to the structure of the dominance hierarchy".Here, Peterson captures the essence of the arrowmaker story wherein the enemy outside the Tipi undoubtedly constitutes the "strange idea, the stranger and the pathogen"  and the "structure of the dominance hierarchy" represents the routine life of the Kiowa tribesmen.In this analysis, the enemy is able to occupy the archetypal position of the pathogen or "virus" without the power of words which Burroughs' quote would suggest is necessary to the idea of "parasitism". Ultimately, this is his downfall as, parasitic though he might be, when faced with the power of the words expressed by the Kiowa arrowmaker, the enemy is unable to respond and is consequently destroyed.

Subsequently, I would argue that our analysis of the arrowmaker story becomes cyclical, by definition. This is because, while Peterson's analysis leads us to conclude that the enemy encompasses elements of the "pathogen", his power nonetheless wains in contrast with the arrowmaker's power in language. As readers, we are forced then to return to Momaday's idea of language as an ultimate source of power and "infinite possibility". However, we are simultaneously introduced to a new idea which I believe is astonishing in its depth and scope for interpretation and analysis within our human reality. This is the idea that, if "The word is now a virus", we learn that the arrowmaker successfully implemented the qualities of the virus (through his speech) to destroy his enemy who in turn, we are forced to recognize as parasitical in his own right as an external threat to what Peterson described as "the structure of the dominance hierarchy". Consequently, the conclusion from this might be that the idea and implementation of language as a virus, is a way through which we can combat and neutralize the threat of a different virus, which of course, should be interpreted in a multifaceted and metaphorical manner. Consequently, there is the idea here that language as a virus grants it's wielder a certain capacity to overcome other manifestations of the virus archetype, thus reinforcing Momaday's original ideas about language and its integral relationship to the human condition and cementing the traditions of which he writes within our consciousness as modern scholars and consumers of literature.

Sources

Momaday, N. Scott. "The Man Made of Words", 1997. Rpt. in Nothing But the Truth: An Anthology of Native American Literature. Edited by John L. Purdy and James Ruppert. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2001. pp. 82-95.

Burroughs, William S. The Ticket that Exploded, 1962. Paris, France: Olympia Press, 1962.

Peterson, Jordan B. with Joe Rogan. The Joe Rogan Experience, Podcast. Episode 958, May 9, 2017. Retrieved from <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USg3NR76XpQ&t=2081s> Last accessed: 9/17/2017.