Well, shit. I picked up this book because my grandma died this year, and like most people faced with the sudden loss of a loved one, I had an immediate desire to know much more about the person who I no longer had the opportunity to ask. I would say it more than served that purpose.
Like many Americans my age, I took for granted that I had a grandparent or great-grandparent who had stepped off the boat around 1900 and went to work and here we are. I took for granted the infusion of Slovak language and culture in our lives. I never asked why or how, it was just the way things were.
For us born here, where did our forefathers come from? The first part of Handlin's book beautifully describes village life in the Old Country. Across Europe, people lived as they had for hundreds or thousands of years, clustered in small communities where everyone knew his place in the community and in nature. The land, if cared for, produced good food and strong animals which translated to wealth and comfort. Families, households, weddings and funerals, the church calendar, even the law was driven by the land and its cycle of life and death. Handlin describes it better than me:
"In the fields the grain rises again. Again the leaves break forth. These are not the grain and leaves of last year. The new is not the old. Yet the new and old are related. They are related by the death of the old which was necessary for the birth of the new... What is the religion of men who live through winter and spring? It is the affirmation that life is victorious over death."
How about that for giving meaning to life. But one man's beautiful symbiosis is another man's crippling dependency. External and internal forces were conspiring against the village, especially as industrialization swept across Europe. Internally, the traditional way of passing down land to the oldest or all sons in a family was causing either a shortage of land or a shortage of sons when played out over centuries. Externally, as landless (and therefore worthless) men left to find work, the village became more dependent on outsiders who brought new ideas and opportunities.
So The Great Migration began. For peasants who had never traveled more than a few miles from home, the journey was unimaginably harrowing, dangerous, and probably without any of the opportunistic thrill my generation likes to imagine. Then they arrived in the New World, which bore zero resemblance to anything they knew. Again from Handlin:
"In the Old Country, this house in this village, these fields by these trees, had had a character and identity of their own. They had testified to the peasants "I," they had fixed his place in the visible universe. The church, the shrine, the graveyard, and the generations that inhabited it also had their personality, had testified to the peasant's "I," and had fixed his place in a larger invisible universe. In the New Country, all these were gone. That was hard enough. Harder still was the fact that nothing replaced them. In America, the peasant was a transient without meaning in time and space. He lived now with inanimate objects, cut off from his surroundings. His dwelling and his place of work had no relationship to him as a man."
Now let me say, I've experienced a taste of migration. Growing up I lived in two countries outside the US, and enjoyed all the feelings of culture shock. But most people, native or not, commuted to their jobs, used transportation, used the telephone, and bought their food at stores. Even though we struggled with the language, and social norms, and looked visibly different, we were ultimately just exchanging one modern culture for another. Not so for the immigrants. And so Handlin spends most of the book detailing how the immigrants coped with every aspect of life. In clinging to the Old Ways, they built their own societies to meet others from similar backgrounds, and provide financial assistance to members in a communal way. They built churches to try to replicate the centralized structure within the village. They published their own native-language newspapers and formed communities to preserve traditions. In embracing new American ways, they gave the hardest time to the newest ethnic group, until a newer one came along to replace them and the bullied became the bullies. They commercialized and started buying everything they needed instead of making it. They learned how to use democracy to their advantage by getting elected and wielding power, not like in the Old Country where the feudal state was purely a tool of oppression.
Then of course, babies were born. My grandma, her 9 siblings, and all the kids who were the first American generation of their families were free from knowing village life in its totality, could actually help their parents navigate the New World. And of course with this, came what I can only imagine is a vastly under-appreciated generational difference between the old way and the new. One example: "They would never understand each others conception of marriage. Sure, the parents tried to explain the nature of this most crucial step, that this was a means of extending on in time the continuity of the family, that it involved the sacrifice of personality toward a larger end... The children would not listen. For them, marriage was an act of liberation by which they cast off the family ties and expressed themselves as persons through the power to love."
How modern of them. How un-village-like.
As the immigrants aged and assimilated themselves, each baby born was more American than the last. My baba spoke broken, self-taught English. Her children spoke both Slovak and English. My dad spoke broken Slovak, and I know only bits and pieces.
Handlin originally wrote this work in the 1950s, when millions of immigrants were still alive and able to tell their stories. In that conclusion, he notes the "new" dissolution of barriers between races. How the ethnic groups who once kept to themselves as a matter of national pride and survival can scarcely believe they are genetically related to each other, let alone inter-marrying. He added an afterword in the 1970s reprint, where he notes the continuation of this trend as we complete our evolution into "Americans." Also tellingly, he writes his concern for technology. How when people are made into social security numbers, and post-war governmental services take away the need for work, we become people unrecognizable to our grandparents. Not only separated from our ethnic roots, but separated from our place in the village, from meaning in our labors, and everything that once gave meaning to life.
I can't help but wonder what Mr. Handlin would say about the latest fad in rustic, organic, locally made. After a few generations, have people realized The Village is where we belong? Raising our own chickens and smithing our own metal? Is the Village even possible without a very traditional and restrictive view of family and church? Or will this new generation similarly realize that peasant life in many ways is not sustainable, and migrate to new lifestyle trends?
Giving five stars for all of the above, but giving one star because this is not an easy read. I'm tempted to say the content is so profound, it should be required reading for Americans. But then I remembered the reason I have this book is because it WAS required reading in senior year history. Ha! #sorrynotsorry. So one star for the boredom factor, and Handlin's generic, non-sourced tone which I'm sure was cool 60 years ago. Stick with it though, especially if you remember your Old Country ties.