When I first saw
the name Maira Kalman, it was while browsing around a book warehouse—the kind
of store where many older books are kept and treasured until their next owner
comes by, someone like me. I was only about fifteen at the time, but my eyes
always gravitated to the ‘kooky’ or aesthetically pleasing book covers, even if
I thought an ‘aesthetic’ was more on the side of fashion and cosmetics. For me,
any book that could keep my focus from the outside deserved a read on the
inside. And the Pursuit of Happiness did just that—it lured me in. The
mimicry of a graphic novel approach from the front cover made me quickly purchase
it with no regard for what may be inside; the title, a famous line from the
Declaration of Independence, and the front photo of Benjamin Franklin were
enough. Little did I know the author’s foremost love of being an illustrator at
the time.
Being a Canadian
teenager with a love of American history and politics wasn’t necessarily the
most popular ideal growing up. I learned to love it because of my family’s love
of all things America—we would visit Florida and various other states multiple
times a year for vacations, so I grew up with a deep attachment for the country
I considered a second home. For being fifteen, my assumptions of why this book
would be in a warehouse rather than prominently displayed at a bookstore chain
lied in the fact that this text was, at face value, for Americans. If it’s
American, then it isn’t ‘patriotic’ enough to be considered a sellable item in
Canada. However, thanks to Maira Kalman, I have a new appreciation of the
democracy that lives in me, as a Canadian, just as much as my neighbouring
American.
And the Pursuit
of Happiness makes me want to learn about the country I live in—it plays
with the idea of democracy and how life can be better if we open our eyes to
the details and possibilities around us. The book mainly revolves around
Kalman’s journey over a year to discover democracy in all its adequacy and
inadequacy. Though this yearlong adventure trip took Kalman around different
states, her starting point for the book stems from the location of all things American—Washington,
D.C. Kalman has an impeccable way of describing thoughts, feelings, and
emotions through just a few words on each page—making the imagery she draws the
focal point of the book.
Though “The
Inauguration. At Last.” is the first chapter of the book, I already felt a
sense of pride from the author’s drawings—they are each describing a scene
where a motion of change occurs or can occur because of the 2008 presidential
election—Barack Obama won, so Americans were entering a different chapter of
life. How would this new voting result affect the country already partially
divided on cultural issues? As my family and I watched the voting results
happen, I was met with various thoughts from all sides of the political border.
I grew up in a predominantly Conservative political view—so, the Canadian
version of a Republican. I think it’s safe to say that most of my family’s view
on the 2008 presidential election was more out of the disappointment of their
American “comrade” losing to a Democrat. Since I wasn’t of voting age, I
watched more to see the reactions from both my family and the news media. This
is another reason why I was so curious to see what Kalman had to say on the
idea of American democracy.
That first
chapter spoke so much to my masked vision of politics I was so familiar with.
The focus of “The Inauguration. At Last.” was simple—the word Hallelujah.
Throughout each page, Kalman dove me in, letting me feel like I am alongside
her on this journey of discovery. For example, one of the pages involves a
straightforward drawing of a pink chair with books stacked on it—the writing is
simple, yet prolific regarding the image shown: “Hallelujah for knowledge and
for the honor of language and ideas. And books. For Jefferson’s glorious
library full of Cicero and Spinoza and Aeschylus and Thomas More and books on
bees and trees and harpsichords all intact in the Library of Congress” (Kalman
22). Though the imagery on each page is captivating, it’s simply a starting
point of how Kalman’s ideas are portrayed to the reading audience. For me, the
inner pages of the book never disappoint from the front cover I was so
entranced by.
Even the pages
which contain only notes from Kalman are written in such a way that keeps the
aesthetic of imagery intact. The author’s approach to democracy is almost like
a memoir, especially on the discussion of the goings-on if Kalman knew Lincoln:
“I would confess to him that I would love to live in the Lincoln Memorial. Just
a simple cot in the center of the space. I would make my bed and sweep. Drink
tea. My neatness and happy aspect would amuse him. In the evening I would
embroider his words onto fabric. Words that seem so apt today” (Kalman 90).
Through both images and words, Kalman adds
a touch of humour in everything she says while still keeping the overall idea
of the work intact: will we ever true the true pursuit of happiness?
Where is
happiness? What is happiness? What did Thomas Jefferson mean? The pursuit of
happiness. I visit Dr. James Watson. Maybe there is a genetic explanation for
happiness. And all we need to do is take a pill that puts it into action. I
asked him. He could not tell me because no one really knows. And anyway,
everyone has to be sad part of the time; otherwise, you would be insane. I
looked at him. He takes walks. Plays tennis. He works. He looks at trees. Those
are good ways to find happiness. To find peace of mind. Me? I work. And walk.
And go to museums. (Kalman 458-461)
Though Kalman spends an entire year
investigating American democracy, her happiness still lies in simple things.
This ideal spoke volumes to me: though there are many political views and
cultural issues around me, I am still Canadian. I still go for walks, play
Scrabble, and go on scenic drives around the city I live in. Maybe my idea of
happiness isn’t a pursuit. I’m now able to see that my happiness lies in
the simple moments that leave a lasting significance as I continue my journey
of self-discovery. Thanks to Maira Kalman with And the Pursuit of Happiness,
I’m able to see that the freedom to be who I am is what democracy is all about.
Cheyenne Siles was born in St.
Catharines, Ontario, Canada & graduated from Brock University with a
Bachelor of Arts in Writing, Rhetoric, & Discourse Studies. She is a book
editor for a ghostwriting company. Cheyenne considers herself to be a driven
woman with a love of all things literacy. She also has an Associate of Science
in Computer Information Systems. If she isn't editing a book, you can find her
reading for leisure, spending time with her husband, or finding new treasures
for her skull collection.
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