In September 1933, Martin Heidegger, who was dean of the University of Freiburg, received an offer to appoint him as professor of philosophy at the University of Berlin. He declined this offer and wrote an article entitled The Black Forest explaining the reason for his refusal. The article is like a short story, a meditative text that glorifies rural life, the atmosphere of nature, and the work of peasants. It starts from the country house and moves to the expansive forest, covered by a clear summer sky, within which two hawks rise, drawing wide circles. In this natural landscape, he – Heidegger – does not contemplate the scene surrounding him, but rather senses its transformations from time to time, as it melts from night into day. On a winter night, a snowstorm erupts around the country house, covering everything. It was time for philosophy, with its simple and basic problems, for they are nothing but a reformulation of harsh thoughts, according to him. The effort poured into the power of words is like the resilience of fir trees standing up against the storm. Heidegger refuses to leave this place, simple in form but profound in meaning. Philosophical work is not done in exceptional settings, but among trees and peasants. Would he prefer to live isolated and alone? He does not perceive himself as isolated, but he is lonely. In large cities, a person can be easily more isolated than ever, but he can never be alone. Loneliness, he says, has a unique effect in not isolating us. Heidegger shows his inner self in this article through his visits and conversations with the peasants and their social closeness. There is no doubt that his description of nature is poetic and lyrical. I read the article at intervals more than once, and Heidegger seemed to me knowledgeable of the ways of the forest and its branches, a man who enjoys strolling and taking it slow.
The road is present in Heidegger’s philosophy as a subject and a philosophical subject. Translator Ismail al-Musaddeq says in Martin Heidegger’s book Basic Writings:
Heidegger chose the slogan for his entire series of works: “Methods, not writings.” This means for the reader that none of Heidegger’s texts should be treated as a collection of knowledge and information about a specific issue, because each of his texts is a path taken by the thinking questioner, but this path is not existing and open to the thinking questioner from the beginning, so that he only has to cross it. Rather, the path is constantly being paved and opened, and it changes with every step of the questioning. This path does not end with providing an answer to the question, because the question changes along the way and always appears in a new light, and in parallel with that the concepts from which the question started also change. As the questioner himself changes and transforms, the result of his research and questioning becomes not a set of results that must be recorded, but rather is integrated into the universe of the questioner himself, so that the conclusion of the text – the end of the road – is not an end, but rather a prior indication of a new beginning that must be accomplished and undertaken. However, on the other hand, this does not mean that the steps taken by the thinking questioner lack importance, such that it is possible to skip over them, on the contrary, it is only thanks to them that the position of the questioner is transformed.
Another article by Martin Heidegger, entitled The Fieldpath, sheds light on what the road constitutes in Heidegger’s philosophy. This text is meditative par excellence, combining biography, thought, poetry, and symbolism. The poetics of the text in Fieldpath are no different from Black Forest. He authored this article with the soul of a poet, who hides more than he shows. In Black Forest, Heidegger was present and clear, yet in Fieldpath, he talks about himself in the third person. He mentions indirect references to his childhood and youth by walking down the road and greeting the giant oak tree, and his father chopping the big tree to make firewood. Then the text turns to philosophy, examining the subject of absolute truth that stands in the way of the Fieldpath. He greets a large oak tree in the forest, under which there is a wooden bench:
Occasionally there lay on the bench some writing or other of the great thinkers, which a young awkwardness attempted to decipher. Whenever the riddles pressed upon each other and no way out was in sight, the Fieldpath helped, for it quietly guided the foot on a turning path through the expanse of the barren land. Time and again, thinking follows in the Same writings, or goes by its own attempts on the trail where the Fieldpath passes through the field. The Fieldpath remains as close to the step of the Thinker as to that of the farmer who walks to his mowing in the early morning.
In literature, cinema, and travel books, there is ample space for the road. The road as a space for walking and contemplation, the road as narrative material in a fictional text, the road as a necessary isolation, the road as a means of communication, the road as a revealer of the subconscious, and the road as a contemplative means through which a person looks into his personal history.
I would not have thought of the road as a narrative material or a novelistic subject, had it not been for the cinematic work The Straight Story, by director David Lynch. In the 1990s, the old man Alvin Straight receives news that his brother is suffering from a very serious illness. Straight’s relationship with his brother is strained. There is no real communication or friendliness. There is a kind of disconnect. They are separated both emotionally and physically, as Straight resides in a state far from his brother’s state, which created an estrangement that lasted for years. Old Man Straight – feeling that he would not live long – decided to visit his brother before it became too late. The story so far is realistic, not exceptional nor problematic, because even if there were problems and disagreements between siblings, there may come a time for reconciliation.
But Straight’s path to meet his brother is not paved with gold. What precedes meeting his brother seems important, perhaps even more important than the meeting itself. The trip from his home in his state to his brother’s state is a journey of atonement and internal purification. Old Straight decided to rely on himself and his limited means in this journey, without utilizing modern and fast means of transportation. He could have gone by plane or train, but he decided not to resort to these means. He wanted to achieve his aspiration with his individuality, as if he would be suffocated with the crowds. The lawnmower that was designated for small homes and gardens was Alvin Straight’s vehicle for the trip, to get from one state to another and see his brother. There is some kind of madness! This vehicle is extremely slow, lengthening the journey duration beyond belief. He cannot speed in this slow machine, but who says Street wants to go fast? This is exactly what he wants. It is not disability or poverty that forces him to use the lawnmower. His idea is small, but its impact is big; a long trip alone to see his brother. He will get tired and exhausted, but all this fatigue and exhaustion is external. What explodes within the soul is what is most important, which is the success of Straight’s journey. The idea itself is unique, but the strength of the film rests on the road, on its form, theme, and image. David Lynch’s camera is not fast or swift. It gives the road justice, through slowness and ease. The camera moves as if it’s painting a poem over the fields, weeds, and wheat farms. The usually fast-paced scenes in American cinema move slowly here. They are not independent, their elements collectively serve as a reflection of the facial features of the old man who crosses the roads, fields, and highlands. The beautiful soundtrack has an overwhelming presence. The music is not added for the sake of completing the scene, but it is thoughtful, added to give the artwork an additional advantage that brings out the aesthetics of the road. David Lynch’s camera rises above the fields and moves slowly, revealing the large lawnmower cutting across the field in a silent image. The viewer does not get a feel of the sounds of nature, the grass, or the field. He just enjoys a beautiful picture, complemented by the tone of the violin that glides from one note to another, similar to country music, symbolizing nature and Straight’s journey.
Straight and the road: Straight and the road are closely intertwined. They are inseparable and both represent the basis of the artwork. This content – simple in its basis, great in its emotion – proves that cinema can present a human work that the viewer can sympathize with without trying too hard. The film does not discuss a universal issue that might provoke disagreement and controversy, but an individual case of an elderly man visiting his old brother. But the means, method of artistic work, dialogues, and music made it a great work. I would never have guessed that David Lynch is the director of this great work! If this film taught us anything, it is that David Lynch is capable of creating and directing great works, but – as they say – every work has its time and influence, in alignment with the director’s eccentric thoughts and strange characters.
How did the road serve Alvin Straight? By providing an opportunity for solitude, contemplation, dialogue, and admiring the vast skies outside the cities. The dialogue scenes between Straight and strangers on the road is a new experience for him. He converses with others with certainty that even if he crosses the road alone, he cannot live without other people. The aim of these dialogues is not to provide advice or life experience. He does not perceive himself as an old man with infinite wisdom, but as a human being like many others, who makes mistakes and creates work that he feels will become his legacy. In the first stop, he converses with a teenager who fled from her family’s home. The social vision in this film – represented by the relationship between two brothers – manifests in another way through this girl. Feeling liberated at the prime of her life, she finds herself separated from her world. She meets this old man who stopped for the night on his long journey. Each of them carries an internal concern, battling with a social problem. Without planning to advise the girl, Alvin began talking about his family, specifically his daughter and her children, of whom she did not have custody. His speech was emotional, yet the conversation was ordinary, like any conversation strangers might have in an unplanned meeting for the sake of talking and sharing life experiences. However, Alvin’s speech played as a framework for the concept of “family” in this film.
On this trip, Alvin had the purely human goal of visiting his brother. This goal was across a long road. To Alvin, the road was only a distance. A distance that included sharing life with others, talking to oneself, making confessions, lamenting the stage of youth, living in the streets and fields, and looking up to the vastness of the sky and the beauty of the stars. When the road ceased to be a mere distance for Alvin Straight, it was reduced to a wearisome breadth in the old man’s eyes. When Straight’s brother, Lyle, looked at how his brother had gotten to him, he needed nothing more, and said nothing. There was only one question on his mind: Have you come through this long way just to see me?
The great Swedish director Ingmar Bergman, in his masterpiece Wild Strawberries, had a unique view of the road, as the road became an image of time. Professor Isak Borg wakes up thinking about his journey through which he will receive an honorary doctorate. After years of achievements, self-realization, name recognition, glory, and ambition, what is left for Professor Isak on his way to receive this degree? Nothing! The seventy-eight-year-old old man, Isak, leaves with his daughter-in-law on a long journey through which he reveals his past and how he isolated himself from his community. When Isak stops in front of his old house, he finds his family members and childhood sweetheart talking and having fun, yet he does not find himself among them. Time is up, and there is no way to return to the old days until he fixes what can be fixed. When he stops at a station to refuel, the station owner and his wife refuse to be compensated for the fuel. Here, the old man lets out a huge, inaudible scream: I wish I lived here. The pessimism in Bergman’s cinema is overbearing, and this is what distinguishes Bergman. He does not only create an immortal scene, but an entire immortal life, wrapped inside the entire minutes of the movie. Isak’s history isn’t revealed through conscious effort on his part. Instead, we discover it by exploring his subconscious. This exploration begins with a telling sign: Isak starts seeing his achievements appear before him on his journey. These achievements were based on a solid foundation of isolation and loneliness. The disadvantages of this isolation and loneliness did not appear back then, because the satisfaction derived from the achievements was dominant. After those achievements became mere history, loneliness and isolation resurfaced to take their share of this man’s history. Where was the battlefield? There was no battle, there was only the attack of loneliness and isolation, and this attack was manifested on the road.
In my childhood years, I was fascinated with the story of the homeless boy who spent the greater part of his life on the road, learning from his old teacher, Mr. Vitalis, and passing through villages and cities, poor, rich, and promising joy on the streets. When the moment came for him to stop wandering, his teacher appeared to him in a dream, as if he was telling him to leave the stability of indoor life and continue traveling and wandering. The old teacher’s plea to the homeless child resonated for many years in my life and I have never forgotten it. I did not know the nature of that plea and what the old man meant by his request to continue his nomadic life. Isn’t stability better than homelessness? What I remember is that I was happy with the child’s decision to return to the road with his fellow child, roaming the cities and villages, spreading joy and happiness on the roads.
The road holds great value in the work of novelist Cormac McCarthy The Road. In this important literary work, which anticipates an unknown coming time, all aspects of life and civilization disappear. There is no more life. What dominates the universe is darkness and cold. McCarthy did not present a vision of the nature of the catastrophe that struck planet Earth and destroyed everything until man returned to his primitive state, when man ate the flesh of his fellow man in order to satisfy his hunger. Did everyone fight and the Earth turned into ashes in cosmic space, or did a punishment befall the Earth, turning it into hell? It is unknown. The reality was that land is no longer land. The reader follows the quest for food and life with a father and his young son across the road on their journey towards the South, in an unknown location in the United States. There are only two characters in the novel, the father and the son. Their names are never mentioned; what is the use of names in a place that no longer uses them? The author, being a man, may be able to easily portray the spirit of the father, but to brilliantly portray the child is pure ingenuity and intelligence. It is not necessary for the child in the novel to be a philosopher or a person with extraordinary vision. He is a child: he thinks, eats, lives, plays, loves, and hates, as a child, not as a fully developed man. When we read the father-son dialogues, for example, we find McCarthy using familiar expressions. The child may insist on something and repeat it several times until the father succumbs to his son’s request, and as expected, the relationship between father and son in a world doomed to destruction is imbued with passion and love. The author was distinguished by his tremendous ability to describe places with their colors, smells, and intricate details. These lengthy descriptions are justified. The author cannot turn the entire novel into a long dialogue between father and son. In this unnatural life, there is destruction and there are two characters. Through the two characters the dialogue emerges, and through the destruction and the road the description that takes long pages emerges. McCarthy does not aim to present anything that affects the emotional state of his reader. He does not care to arouse their feelings. It is as if he is saying that the nature of the disaster and humans searching for what sustains them in itself warrants sympathy. Therefore, the narrative is neutral, its goal is to paint a picture of the nature of the scene. What is the advantage of the road in this literary text? The novel revolves around the road as a place and an event. The heroes of the novel often stop on the road and head to the forest or the destroyed houses to search for food and drink or to hide, then they return to the road again to complete their journey. The road represents a harsh and formidable battlefield between life and death. Humans walk this path in search of salvation. Death is looming over this path, hoping to find the next victim. The road thereby simultaneously becomes a road to life and to death.
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