Unlike Sinclair Lewis’s love-hate relationship with Main Street America, our hero waxes nostalgic on a Tom Sawyer’s America that’s as harmless as a Mayberry, R.F.D. Not out of naivete but more out of loss. Loss for an Eden haunts his art throughout the book.
An America that lasted until the mid-60s, and after that – merely a tourist attraction off the main beat, relegated to the “Old Town” section of too many towns too close to Walmart and not far enough from the interstates – an antique, a historical marker, but defunct.
So yes, he treats it with almost reverence, which otherwise belies his pervasive cynicism throughout. In fact, as we have already established many times before, if not for his paintings, we, the reader, wouldn’t have a clue about this side of him.
To be continued.