“And it may be that a crowd at a particular moment of history creates the object to justify its gathering, as it did at the first Human Be-In and Monterey Pop and Woodstock. Or it may be that two generations of war and surveillance had left people craving the embodiment of their own unease in the form of a lone, unsteady man on a slide guitar.”
The quote by Jennifer Egan suggests that moments in history can give rise to certain cultural phenomena, whether it be a gathering like Woodstock or the emergence of a particular artist who captures the collective mood of a generation. In this case, Egan highlights how the tumultuous events of war and surveillance may have contributed to the popularity of a lone, unsteady man on a slide guitar. This analysis suggests that art and music can serve as a reflection of society's anxieties and desires during specific periods in history.
In today's rapidly changing and interconnected world, the quote by Jennifer Egan highlights the power of collective gatherings to shape cultural movements and create iconic figures. From music festivals like Coachella and Lollapalooza to social movements like Black Lives Matter and #MeToo, we see how people come together to give voice to their shared experiences and desires for change. Just as past generations found solace in the music of a lone slide guitar player, contemporary society continues to seek out and elevate individuals who capture the zeitgeist of the times.
In this quote, Jennifer Egan explores the idea of how cultural movements and gatherings can shape the art and music that emerge during those times.
The author reflects on how seminal events such as the Human Be-In, Monterey Pop, and Woodstock gave rise to new cultural icons and trends. The image of a lone musician on a slide guitar symbolizes the collective unease felt by a generation scarred by war and surveillance.
In this quote, Jennifer Egan discusses the phenomenon of how certain events or gatherings can shape or create their own symbol or embodiment. Reflecting on this idea, consider the following questions:
Can you think of any examples in history where a particular event or gathering created its own symbol or representation? How did this symbol come to be associated with that event?
How do you interpret the idea that two generations of war and surveillance could lead people to crave the embodiment of their unease in a lone, unsteady man on a slide guitar? Do you agree with this interpretation?
In your opinion, how does the creation of symbols or embodiments by a crowd reflect the collective psyche or feelings of that group of people at that specific moment in time?
“[I]t may be that a crowd at a particular moment of history creates the object to justify its gathering.”
“He remembered his mentor, Lou Kline, telling him in the nineties that rock and roll had peaked at Monterey Pop. They'd been in Lou's house in LA with its waterfalls, the pretty girls Lou always had, his car collection out front, and Bennie had looked into his idol's famous face and thought, You're finished. Nostalgia was the end - everyone knew that.”
“And Alex understood that Scotty Hausmann did not exist. He was a word casing in human form: a shell whose essence has vanished.”
“Kathy was a Republican, one of those people who used the unforgivable phrase "meant to be"--usually when describing her own good fortune or the disasters that had befallen other people.”
“Things had gotten -- what's the word? Dry. Things had gotten sort of dry for me. I was working as a city janitor in a neighborhood elementary school and, in summers, collecting litter in the park alongside the East River near the WIlliamsburg Bridge. I felt no shame whatsoever in these activities, because I understood what almost no one else seemed to grasp: that there was only an infinitesimal difference, a difference so small that it barely existed except as a figment of the human imagination, between working in a tall green glass building on Park Avenue and collecting litter in a park. In fact, there may have been no difference at all.”
“I felt no shame in these activities, because I understood what almost no one else seemed to grasp: that there was only an infinitesimal difference, a difference so small that it barely existed except as a figment of the human imagination, between working in a tall green glass building on Park Avenue and collecting litter in a park. In fact, there may have been no difference at all.”