Modern Nomads

 

Telling Tales/Take Two

“We all look to stories to understand what we are doing. But stories are always an imperfect match.”

Jessica Bruder (as reported by Xan Brooks, The Guardian, April 9, 2021)

          I’ve been reading articles about the American nomad culture that is depicted in the film, “Nomadland.” Jessica Bruder, author of the book from which the movie derived, compares the lifestyle of this modern nomadic culture to that of the western-era cowboys. But the cowboy we Americans mythologize as a freewheeling, devil-may-care, John Wayne swaggering, individual is and was a poor, itinerant seasonal worker, living a migratory life on the road for lack of a better option.

The modern nomad culture began in earnest with the 2008 crash and resulting evictions that made thousands of people jobless and homeless. That population is being fed everyday by our increasing financial inequality. Whereas the film tried hard to depict the nomads as freedom-seekers, and “hippy” counter-culturists, in reality they are folks just trying to keep body and soul together. This is where the stories of rugged individualism break down. No one in this modern world goes it alone and succeeds. Even the nomads band together for group meals and social events and share their possessions. Whereas our pioneering ancestors headed west in search of something—some opportunity or possibility—these modern nomads, more often than not, are running away from everything.

          Quite often the stories we tell ourselves are also fictional in the sense that we create the story to camouflage or obscure our reality. Our stories tend to make us either more glamorous, more interesting, or conversely, more pitiful, and pathetic, than we are by adding exaggerated scenarios. Again, that is not a criticism, it’s human. We need to believe that we are a little more heroic or more victimized than we are, not because we are liars, but because it keeps us going. Our stories, fact or fiction, give us structure. They are the framework within which we build our lives.

          The nomads are, as Martin Scorsese says, “destined to wander forever between the winds.” The film emotes a “mood of pensive restlessness” (Xan Brooks) in the camper-dwellers. What may seem like true freedom is also freedom to starve, to be sweltering in summer and freezing in winter, to be alone and broken down on an empty highway in the dead of night. Most of us prefer the company of kindred spirits, association with helpful souls, and shelter from the storm. (Can you hear a little Dylan playing in the background? That’s for effect.)

Happy sabbath to all nomads and to all immobile-structure dwellers, too! Namaste!

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane