Subdivisions
Lyrics: Neil Peart
Sprawling on the fringes of the city
In geometric order
An insulated border
In between the bright lights
And the far unlit unknownGrowing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zoneNowhere is the dreamer
Or the misfit so alone
Subdivisions —
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
Subdivisions —
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out
Any escape might help to smooth
The unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
The restless dreams of youthDrawn like moths we drift into the city
The timeless old attraction
Cruising for the action
Lit up like a firefly
Just to feel the living nightSome will sell their dreams for small desires
Or lose the race to rats
Get caught in ticking traps
And start to dream of somewhere
To relax their restless flightSomewhere out of a memory
Of lighted streets on quiet nights…
In 1982, the year this song by the popular band, Rush, spoke to me and my growing feeling of isolation. It spoke my fears that I would never make it to the “far unlit unknown” and that my future had already been “pre-decided”.
This is timeless in that it speaks to that conflict in all of us between fitting in and living our best potential which is repressed by the forces telling us to be this false ideal that does not truly exist. “Conform or be cast out” can be read “give up your identity or be always alone”. I chose to be alone. The cost of conformity – it’s too much to bare.
“Some will sell their dreams for small desires and lose the race to rats…”
Too many suffer that fate, living in their little boxes, repeating the same worn routine day in and day out in some cubicle so that they can keep their box all the while screaming on the inside.
There is something so broken in society, it seems incurable. The way we live is not healthy or conducive to creativity and the resulting productivity that might evolve us beyond our technology.
We have so many more of these “Signals” in society than we did in 1982. We are always plugged in to the beast that is social media which instead of making us each welcome to the world further isolates us not only from each other but from our own humanity.
“Growing up it all seems so one-sided. Opinions all provided…”
This has grown exponentially true. If you dare step out of line with the latest narrative, being cast out is the best one can hope for.
Fairy Tales then, are not responsible for producing in children fear, or any of the shapes of fear; fairy tales do not give the child the idea of the evil or the ugly; that is in the child already, because it is in the world already. Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon. Exactly what the fairy tale does is this: it accustoms him for a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors had a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.
My dad loved quoting both Mark Twain and Winston Churchill when I was growing up. My first dog was a Springer Spaniel named Winston Churchill so for the longest time I thought dad was quoting our dog. Winston was, after all, the best bird dog in the whole neighborhood. I understood about Mark Twain. He wrote Tom Sawyer who gave me some excellent ideas on how to get out of unwanted chores.
John Milton and Dante Alighieri were the bane of my existence in my early life. In my parent’s bookshelves, I was fascinated by the tales that Milton’s Paradise Lost and Dante’s Inferno revealed, and the insight they gave to this Hell where I was told I would definitely be heading. You see, I was sent to Catholic school from first to fifth grade, and not being the most agreeable of children, was threatened with certain damnation for all my vile imagination (boy, I could lie in a way that would put Lucifer to shame) and my refusal to conform (I was not a proper little girl).
