Opinion | Joan Didion, RFK's Assassination and Why "The White Album" Still Feels So Rel... - 0 views
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Kennedy’s casket was transported by rail to Washington, and along the tracks nearly two million people lined up to pay their respects. To Ms. Didion, the contrast between these scenes and the Royal Hawaiian’s conspicuously deserted verandah felt appalling. With Robert Kennedy’s assassination, she said, “it was as if all the disturbances of the whole past couple of years came to a head that night. And here was a whole part of America that wasn’t having it.” As she and Mr. Dunne watched the news coverage, she told Ms. Stein, “it was like something snapping.”
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Ms. Didion found herself confronted with a fractured version of America that’s not too different from the one we’ve come to recognize today. Millions are dead from the pandemic. Thousands take to the streets in protest while thousands more gather in the national capital to storm the seat of government.
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“No matter what your political feelings are, if you’re attached to the idea of the nation as a community — if you feel yourself to be part of that community — then obviously something has happened to that community,” Ms. Didion told Ms. Stein of that night in 1968
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We are at a continual deficit of either unity or cohesion. And in the wake of each new cataclysm, we’ve found ourselves further apart.
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“It seemed as if these people did not count themselves as part of the community. That they came from another America.” They could heckle a praying singer. They could watch “The Lawrence Welk Show” but ignore a political assassination. The same economic system that put these specific Americans in the position to take this vacation — the white-collar stability, the inequality sustaining it — was what allowed them, now, to turn their backs. They didn’t really care about any of it; the broader narrative of patriotism and pride was just an excuse for doing what they wanted — for their self-interest — a narrative they could apply and discard from one situation to the next as they saw fit.
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“We tell ourselves stories in order to live,” she wrote — and, later in the essay, “I was supposed to have a script, and had mislaid it,” recounting “a time when I began to doubt the premises of all the stories I had ever told myself, a common condition but one I found troubling.”
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“The White Album” clarifies something essential to our current experience: what it’s like to navigate our fractured cultural landscape when it can feel so difficult to talk to each other, because we lack the sense of a shared reality on which such a conversation depends
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That sense of “the final unraveling,” as Mr. Dunne described it, often feels like it’s currently underway.
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For Ms. Didion, there was no overarching narrative we could rely on either to magically put things back together or to predict how it all might finally fall apart. “Writing has not yet helped me to see what it means,” she wrote in the essay’s final line.