This Blessed Isle

Now that I've come at least three quarters of the way through my English experience, I have to sit here and wonder, what does it take to be British? Is it just the tea, the class struggles, the calling of things what they're not usually called (i.e. cookies = biscuits, etc.)? Or is it something else?

Because the dissimilarity between British and American culture is readily apparent. I was talking to a lady in church today (separate story, but I went to Easter Communion at the Exeter Cathedral. It was pretty sweet.), who was originally from New Mexico but had moved to Bristol and stayed there. For the most part she spoke with a Bristolean (?) accent, but here and there I could sense semblances of American left in her voice. She showed me around to the grave of Charles Wesley's brother, who was an organist in the Cathedral and got his own burial place beneath it, and we just talked about differences in cutlure: across America, across England. How New Mexico and Santa Fe were one world, and Bristol was another. The geography, the cultural influences (in this case, the presence of Spanish/Mexican influences on Easter practices), political climates, so on and so on.

Of course, the similarities are just as easily visible: England imports a lot of American culture, and returns things like ideas for American Idol and Dancing With The Stars. And Doctor Who. The only two places a musical can be "born" and recieve any amount of success is either on Broadway or in the West End. And, I mean, we both speak the same language.

But what kind of life do you have to lead in England to become English? Do you have to be raised here? Apparently not, since I know at least two people I'd consider English who both were raised in America. And if it can grow on you, what does it take? A proclimation of ideals? Do you renounce manifest destiny, the hope of becoming a movie star, and the American Dream in favor of taking up the Realm, politeness, and the Queen? What on earth is a national identity made up of, and is it a conscious choice, or is it just a sort of lump of all the experiences you have rolled into one?

I love being different here, but I love fitting in. Not that Englishness and I have always gotten along very well, as the occasional emo-rant on this blog can illustrate. But when it comes down to it, I do love being in dialogue with Englishness and English culture, as an outsider. But then, I get offended and start ranting when someone honestly suggests that "American" is a separate language. I rant to myself about how that's denying my cultural heritage.

But is England my cultural heritage? The English are said to have two books: the Bible, and the Complete Works of Shakespeare. That's what was put in the time capsule in Our Town. To what extent is the American experience a reinvention of the British one? We both had bloody civil wars. We both struggled with the question of when it was right to overthrow a king. What is the American Cultural Heritage, anyway, if not somehow connected to where we all moved in from anyway? Apart from whether democracy can work, and what the equality of man could be, in the end, what major questions has America answered in 300 years? What are our defining characteristics? All I can think of is what we're percieved to be. We can be perceived as wealthy, or idealistic, or business-driven, or stupid, or laid back, or wild, or any number of things. But among all these percieved characteristics, I can't think of one thing that it takes to be American. And maybe it's as simple as national identity not existing at all. Maybe it's just a label and a handed down set of themes that historians and literary critics dictate to us. Maybe it's that in America you can be whatever you want to be. That sounds oddly sappy.

When I was in Bath, I was talking to a high-school-age student involved in His Dark Materials. She said that she couldn't understand why anyone would ever come from America, to England. England, she insisted, was dull, and slow, while America was fast-paced. I told her England was quieter, and I don't remember exactly what else I said but my feeling about it is that England is more profound, that still waters run deep. And, in that, I can't see why anyone, being English, would want to go to America. I mean, a change of pace is always good, and of course people often don't appreciate things until they step back from them, and maybe not everyone in England particularly likes the English lifestyle, but if you've got this inborn connection to the culture on this peculiar, wonderful little island - if you can tell someone's birthplace and education just by hearing them speak, if you've endured the weather here, and been brought up with the BBC, and lived among solid history - why would you want to leave? Why would you want to give that up for the American experience, which seems somehow more superficial, or at least less profound? I mean, I've got a family and friends in America, what have you got, Hypothetical-British-Person-To-Whom-I'm-Speaking? You're just a conceptual target for my direct address. You don't even have feelings.

The clouds move faster in England, and the weather is more sporadic. Tea solves everything. Faith is easier to talk about, but only %2 of people attend religious services. When you turn 18 you get a bigger pint of beer than the one you're used to (apparently). People are most commonly nice, though some get frustrated by little things (like paying before you bag your groceries). Lots of people have dogs but only a few let you pet them. No one talks about personal subjects unless you corner them. More people have seen Shakespeare than you would normally expect. Grape jelly doesn't exist, clotted cream does.

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I'm headed off to Dawlish and Glastonbury soon, so I'll try to get in some good travel writing about them. Thanks for keeping up with my adventures so far, my readers, even if they don't often make much sense.