Go East, Young Man: Imagining the American West as the Orient.
Chung, Sue Fawn
GO EAST, YOUNG MAN: IMAGINING THE AMERICAN WEST AS THE ORIENT
By Richard V. Francaviglia (Logan: Utah State University Press,
2011, 310 pp., $36.95 cloth)
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
THIS IS A CREATIVE PERSPECTIVE, developed over several decades, of
the American West reinterpreted as the Orient (defined as the Middle
East to Asia) and the response of Americans to Asia and Asians.
Francaviglia examines the geologic, climatic, and biotic similarities of
the two landscapes while acknowledging that there are some differences;
focuses on places and how they were perceived; and looks at the
historical linkages in postcards, American and European literature,
memoirs, travel narratives, folk songs, art, films, television, and
other forms of popular culture. He also uses contemporary historians and
writers who have similar ideas to support his position. Throughout his
presentation, the American duality of positive and negative sentiments
toward the Orient prevails and the emotions of fear, jealousy, and
alienation are mixed with appreciation, admiration, and identification.
The book of ten chapters is divided into two parts: "The
Frontier West as the Orient (ca. 1810-1920)" in seven chapters and
"The Modern West as the Orient (ca. 1920-2010)" in three
chapters. Francaviglia begins in the nineteenth century because
Americans had become more sophisticated international travelers and
often compared the exotic places they visited to their homeland
(Colorado's Rocky Mountains were viewed as similar to the Swiss
Alps). At the same time, there is an attraction to Oriental
spiritualism. The Mormons viewed their settlement in Salt Lake City as
similar to the Israelis settling near the Dead Sea and referred to the
state of Utah as the Holy Land. Those experiencing the open landscape of
the semiarid American West could relate to the Sahara, Arabia, Mongolia,
and other exotic Oriental locations (John Charles Fremont, upon reaching
the "remarkable rock" that reminded him of the Great Pyramid
of Cheops, named the lake surrounding the rock Pyramid Lake in 1844).
From a geomorphologic perspective, Nevada resembled eastern Uzbekistan
and southern Nevada, the Sahara.
The Orient was an exotic place that fascinated Americans, and its
culture influenced American thinkers, businessmen, writers, and artists
from the early nineteenth century. The sexuality and charm of Mexican
and Native American women attracted the attention of American military
personnel as well as writers and artists (Charles M. Russell's
painting Keeoma [1896] of a Native American woman lounging in front of a
tepee is reminiscent of a woman before a Middle Eastern odalisque). In
the search for Eden, Douglas Cazaux Sackman promoted California as the
place that produced the fruits of Eden--oranges. As landscapes as
cultural analogies prevailed, the railroads chose such names for their
towns as Phoenix, connoting something magical.
The story would not be complete without an examination of the
Chinese and Japanese influence in the Far West. As miners, railroad
workers, and others--part of the new territories--they were accepted and
then rejected, as was typical of the American ambivalence toward Asians.
The Chinese built their own temples and Chinatowns, often in their own
style, while influencing Americans to build structures and gardens
inspired by the Orient (Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood,
California). The Northwest was imagined as having a Japan-like landscape
(Mount Rainier was likened to Mount Fuji), a notion reinforced by
Japanese immigrants who settled in Hood River, Oregon, whose Mount Hood
also reminded them of their beloved mountain (the Mount Fuji connection
continued in 2010 with the National Park Service's Mount
Rainier-Mount Fuji Sister Mountain Curriculum Project). The Great
Northern Railway named its premier Minneapolis-Seattle train the
Oriental Limited. By the twentieth century, Oriental themes in stories
and movies either endeared audiences to Orientals or, as seen in World
War II--themed television shows and movies, furthered racism and
discrimination.
Francaviglia has portrayed the Orientalized American West--with
influences from the Middle East to East Asia--as not only a fragment of
the larger United States but also a component of a broader American
identity that is deep-seated in the American mind with both negative and
positive images.
Go East, Young Man is full of colorful examples and is based on
decades of Francaviglia's thinking about the topic (as early as
1979, he published a book and subsequently numerous articles about the
Mormon landscape). It is very entertaining to read. Despite numerous and
varied details, there are some errors, such as naming Gordon Chang of
Stanford University as an Asian American art historian instead of a
professor of American and Asian American history and citing Wang Lee
instead of Ang Lee as the director of the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden
Dragon. When discussing the advent of camels in Virginia City, Nevada,
in the 1800s in the misguided hope that they could be used to transport
salt and other goods in the Nevada desert, he fails to point out that it
was the Chinese who used camels to transport goods along the Silk Road
beginning in the Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 220). Some art historians may
argue about Francaviglia's comparisons of artworks and paintings,
but one cannot deny that there certainly is "food for
thought," which was the author's original intention. On that
basis, I would highly recommend Go East, Young Man.
REVIEWED BY SUE FAWN CHUNG, ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF HISTORY,
UNIVERSITY OF NEVADA, LAS VEGAS, AND AUTHOR OF IN PURSUIT Of Gold:
CHINESE AMERICAN MINERS AND MERCHANTS IN THE AMERICAN WEST