In What Ways Does 'Seabiscuit' Reflect The American Dream Theme?

In 'Of Mice and Men', the American Dream is portrayed as both a beacon of hope and a cruel illusion. George and Lennie’s dream of owning a piece of land represents the ideal of self-sufficiency and freedom, a common aspiration during the Great Depression. Their vision is filled with warmth and simplicity—tending rabbits, growing crops, and living off the land. Yet, this dream is constantly out of reach, shadowed by their circumstances and Lennie’s limitations. The other characters, like Candy and Crooks, also latch onto this dream, revealing its universal appeal. Candy’s willingness to invest his savings shows how desperate people are for a better life. Crooks, initially cynical, allows himself to hope, highlighting the dream’s power to transcend racial barriers. However, the novel ultimately suggests that the American Dream is unattainable for the marginalized. Lennie’s tragic end shatters the dream, symbolizing the harsh reality that hope alone cannot overcome systemic inequality. For those interested in exploring similar themes, 'The Grapes of Wrath' by John Steinbeck delves deeper into the struggles of the disenfranchised during the same era. Steinbeck’s portrayal of the American Dream is deeply rooted in the socio-economic context of the 1930s. The characters’ aspirations reflect the broader societal desire for stability and prosperity, yet their failures underscore the systemic barriers that prevent them from achieving it. The dream is not just about material wealth but also about dignity and autonomy. George’s repeated narration of the dream to Lennie serves as a coping mechanism, a way to endure their harsh reality. The novel’s tragic ending forces readers to confront the fragility of hope in the face of insurmountable odds. It’s a poignant commentary on the disparity between the American Dream’s promise and its reality.

'American Pastoral' tears apart the glossy veneer of the American Dream with surgical precision. Swede Levov embodies the post-war ideal—star athlete, successful businessman, picture-perfect family. But Roth exposes it as a fragile illusion. The riots of the 1960s shatter Swede’s world when his daughter Merry bombs a post office, revealing the rot beneath suburban prosperity. The novel frames the Dream as a collective delusion. Swede’s relentless optimism clashes with the era’s chaos, proving that meritocracy and hard work can’t shield against societal upheaval. Roth’s brilliance lies in showing how the Dream consumes its believers—Swede’s life becomes a grotesque parody of success, haunted by violence and betrayal. It’s less a critique than an autopsy, dissecting how idealism curdles into tragedy.

Theodore Dreiser's 'An American Tragedy' dismantles the American Dream by exposing its hollow promises. Clyde Griffiths, the protagonist, is lured by wealth and status, believing hard work and ambition will elevate him. Yet, society’s rigid class structure ensures his downfall. His desperation to climb the social ladder leads to moral decay and eventual crime. The novel portrays the Dream as a mirage—accessible only to those born into privilege, while others, like Clyde, are crushed by systemic inequality. Dreiser’s naturalistic style strips away romanticism, showing how environment and chance dictate fate. Clyde’s trial isn’t just about his guilt but a condemnation of a society that breeds such tragedies. The Dream isn’t about merit; it’s a rigged game where the marginalized pay the price. The novel’s brilliance lies in its unflinching critique of capitalism’s false hope.

In 'After You', the impact of love lost is explored through Lou’s journey of grief and self-discovery. Losing Will shatters her world, leaving her adrift and questioning her purpose. The novel delves into how grief isn’t linear—it’s messy, unpredictable, and often isolating. Lou’s struggle to move forward is palpable, as she clings to memories while trying to rebuild her life. Her relationship with Sam and the support group she joins highlight the importance of connection in healing. The book doesn’t sugarcoat loss; it shows how love’s absence can leave scars but also create space for new beginnings. For those who’ve experienced loss, 'The Light We Lost' by Jill Santopolo offers a similarly raw exploration of love and its aftermath. What stands out is how 'After You' portrays the duality of grief—it’s both a burden and a catalyst. Lou’s growth is slow and painful, but it’s also empowering. The novel reminds us that love lost doesn’t define us; it’s how we choose to move forward that shapes our story. The emotional depth and relatable characters make it a poignant read for anyone navigating heartbreak.

Hal Ashby's 'Being There' is a brilliant satire that perfectly captures the absurdity and superficiality of 1970s American society. The film follows Chance, a simple-minded gardener who becomes a political celebrity purely because people misinterpret his vague gardening metaphors as profound wisdom. This mirrors the era's growing obsession with media-created personalities and the shallow nature of political discourse. The 1970s were a time when television began dominating public life, and the film shows how easily people project their own meanings onto empty statements when delivered by someone who fits their ideal image. What makes 'Being There' so sharp is how it exposes the fragility of power structures. Chance rises to influence not through merit but because wealthy elites and politicians see what they want to see in him. This reflects the disillusionment many felt during the post-Watergate era, where trust in institutions was crumbling. The film's portrayal of Washington's elite shows a society desperate for meaning but incapable of recognizing genuine substance when it doesn't come packaged in expected ways. The racial dynamics are fascinating too - Chance's success partly stems from him being a non-threatening white man, highlighting unspoken biases of the time. The economic anxieties of the 1970s bubble beneath the surface throughout the story. Inflation and recession were defining issues of the decade, and the film shows wealthy characters completely detached from these struggles. Chance's journey from obscurity to influence demonstrates how privilege operates - he stumbles into success while actual marginalized voices remain unheard. The ending is particularly powerful, suggesting American society will literally follow empty rhetoric off a cliff if it's delivered with enough confidence.

In 'All My Sons', Arthur Miller delivers a scathing critique of the American Dream by exposing its moral bankruptcy. The play revolves around Joe Keller, a business owner who prioritizes profit over human lives, shipping defective airplane parts during WWII to secure his family’s wealth. His actions, driven by the belief that success justifies any means, ultimately destroy his family. The play dismantles the illusion that hard work and ambition alone lead to prosperity, revealing how the pursuit of the American Dream can corrupt individuals and fracture communities. Miller highlights the societal pressure to achieve material success, even at the cost of integrity. Chris Keller, Joe’s idealistic son, represents the younger generation’s disillusionment with this ethos. His confrontation with his father underscores the conflict between moral responsibility and capitalist greed. The tragic ending—Joe’s suicide—serves as a grim indictment of a system that values profit over humanity. Miller’s message is clear: the American Dream, when untethered from ethics, becomes a nightmare.

In 'The Prince', Machiavelli dives deep into the raw, unfiltered aspects of human nature, stripping away idealism to reveal a pragmatic view of power. He argues that humans are inherently self-serving, driven by ambition and fear rather than morality. This is evident in his advice to rulers: it’s better to be feared than loved, as fear is more reliable. He doesn’t sugarcoat the harsh realities of leadership, emphasizing that ethics often take a backseat to survival and control. Machiavelli’s work reflects a world where trust is fragile, and betrayal is common. His focus on manipulation and strategy highlights how people prioritize personal gain over ethical principles. This cynical perspective resonates even today, especially in politics and business, where power dynamics often overshadow moral considerations. For those intrigued by this exploration of human nature, '1984' by George Orwell offers a chilling parallel, showing how power can corrupt and control.

In 'Middlesex', the American Dream is portrayed as both a beacon of hope and a mirage. The novel follows the journey of the Stephanides family, starting with their escape from war-torn Greece to the bustling streets of Detroit. They chase the promise of prosperity, but their dreams are tangled with sacrifices and identity struggles. Cal, the protagonist, embodies this duality—born intersex, their life is a constant negotiation between self-discovery and societal expectations. The family’s rise from immigrants to middle-class Americans is marked by hard work, but it’s also shadowed by secrets and the cost of assimilation. The American Dream here isn’t just about success; it’s about survival and the price of fitting into a mold that doesn’t always fit back. What struck me most is how the novel shows the Dream as a generational burden. Each generation carries the weight of the previous one’s aspirations, and Cal’s story is a testament to how those aspirations can both empower and confine. The Dream isn’t a straight path; it’s a labyrinth of choices, compromises, and the relentless pursuit of belonging.