Yes, we’ve explored this one a number of times, but now let’s explore the results:
In the foreground, as noted on previous occasions is a plastic Coors beer cup. To the left of it, a kerosene lantern. Between it and that rectangular looking box is a buffalo robe. The “box” is a parfleche – an Indian chest for keeping prize possessions. To the left of it is a backrest, the counterpart of a recliner. Way in the background, not too noticeable, is a lady with an umbrella over her head. But unlike almost all of his paintings where you’re outside, at best looking in, here you’re inside looking out. Now you can read all sorts of things into that one, but the fact is that way of life can really only be seen from inside now (which might explain the Coors to aid in that long gone dream [if it ever was real] – and that of course is the crux of the whole story. Or stories, since it takes three novels to unravel the significance of all this: the paintings, the desire to go back, back to the Eden of his childhood, the noble savage of Rousseau, and all the other myths of the Great American unconscious [see page 1-666]). To be continued
Confessions of St. Augustine (a 21st Century Rousseau)
