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Driving with Springsteen into the Darkness at the Edge of the World
JAMES COUCH
 
 
 
Come along with me on a ride with Bruce Springsteen. It’s understandable why the Boss incorporates numerous images of driving, cars and the road into his songs. Standing out as prominently as a smiling chrome grill, these things represent youth, America, and freedom, but they also provide insight into individual human existence.
Eagerly jumping behind the wheel to be confined in two tons of metal, shaped and fashioned by human hands, we speed, swerve, and stall on the many highways and byways of life—generally lost, looking for that one glorious scenic outlook just around the next bend, and as we try to forget the fact that all roads have the same destination, really “nobody’s kiddin’ nobody as to where it goes.”
Springsteen knows this and gives his listeners a subtle reminder of the ambiguity and uncertainty surrounding modern human life.

Powershifting on the Rattlesnake Speedway

So, rather than cruising during the day, being able to see and be seen as we travel with top down and sun high in the sky, this will be a ride that starts at dusk. We will drive as the shadows lengthen, the light fades, all the while being assured that darkness will overtake us. This will not be a drive on the smooth shocks and plush cushions of a pink Cadillac, rather it will be a speeding suicide machine, an unfinished heap hurling us along the lunar landscape of an unfamiliar highway in search of an elusive border that marks the line between the struggle, suffering, guilt, and death found in each of our lives and an unknown land of potential. What we hope lies just across that line are the things that compel most of us to press on—happiness , love, stability, and even the prospect of becoming a better person, someone who is more genuine and authentic, someone who has found home, peace and rest.
Springsteen in numerous songs invokes the atmosphere and feelings that accompany the situations usually heard in the heartache of country tunes or the pangs of despair in the blues—real life. Telling us stories of individuals who have been tried and tested, relating the successes as well as the failures, the songs of Springsteen show us to ourselves as if our own lives were being displayed at a roadside carnival. The existential trip he invites us on is one where we may occasionally see the shapes and distant lights of cities and towns, but more often than not the only things we will see are abandoned mansions, fading factories, closed mills and ghosts that all lie at the edge of the world. His lyrics help us connect with other people through the things we all share, but just as importantly they help us to distinguish ourselves from those same people. Like the attempt to tune in a radio station, we fade in and out, oscillating between stations as we turn the knobs of the self. And we must keep in mind that even as his songs invite us to travel together, ultimately the only travel companions we have are ourselves- scared and lonely riders-each alone.
For any and all singers and songwriters that truly affect us, the Boss being no exception, they must literally and figuratively strike a chord of resonance that reverberates into the very core of our being. Not only does this cause our feet to tap in time and lips to take on the shape of the words, but occasionally these become only external signs of something happening internally. Opening the eyes via the ears, we are stirred to see both the world and ourselves differently. Most of the time this means unexpectedly finding ourselves with shared feelings, associations, and situations, but occasionally we are exposed to just how paradoxically we are isolated from everyone else. Going a bit further, we can say that we sometimes gain a deeper understanding of ourselves through the unique variations we individually find in the shared themes owed to singing of the human condition.
This may be why I could easily agree with many others who have heard and enjoyed the song “State Trooper.” We all hope we are not going to be stopped by the police as we are speeding home at night, yet I would need to insist that such a common fear brings with it a deeper sense of foreboding and anxiety concerning my existence. In other words, even as I, like everyone else, continue to look in the rear view mirror and scan the horizon for any signs of the law, I nevertheless must still catch a glimpse of myself. That trembling person reflected in the mirror is me and it is I who must face the uncertainty of life and the certainty of death. This is an existential theme, and Springsteen sprays it on his music like a dotted line down the asphalt, and it is one that we will attempt to follow by means of what one existential philosopher, Karl Jaspers, has termed ultimate or boundary situations.
It is necessary to locate a few land marks so as not to go too far astray in traveling the existential turnpike within Springsteen’s music. As a result we will begin with further exploring what is meant by the “ultimate situation,” determining in what ways it bears on the individual. From there we will look at Karl Jaspers and his thought. Once the first leg of the trip is completed, we will then look at the specific boundaries of death, suffering, struggle and guilt. Having done that, we will have prepared ourselves for turning completely off the road in order to see what is over the edge of this rattlesnake speedway.

Strange Creepin’ on the Spooky Turnpike

Ultimate situations are those moments when we are brought to ourselves by being shown the very limits of our existence. These times expose life’s oppositional character, its uncertainty and lack of permanence, but in doing so they offer the choices that, when chosen, come to define us. Because these boundary situations are uncomfortable and disturbing we may be tempted to allow ourselves to “go tripping cross that thin line” and “go driftin’ off into some foreign lands” where the unsettled feelings can be dismissed or covered over; on the other hand, because life is unstable, things could be different—we still could realize those unique dreams or possibilities only discovered in the darkness on the edge of town.
We can here set what Jaspers has to say about our human state before us:
He continues by telling us of the way we usually act in facing such certainties:
In our day-to-day lives we often evade them, by closing our eyes and living as if they did not exist. We forget that we must die, forget our guilt, and forget that we are at the mercy of chance. We face only concrete situations and master them to our profit, we react to them by planning and acting in the world, under the impulsion of our practical interests. But to ultimate situations we react either by obfuscation or, if we really apprehend them, by despair and rebirth: we become ourselves by a change in our consciousness of being. (Way to Wisdom, p. 20)
So many of Springsteen’s songs expose the hope and desire of crossing boundaries, limits and lines that hold the promise of something better that lies just beyond. These hopes and desires arise out of the various situations people find themselves in. Though we constantly remain in some situation or another, there are certain situations that are not affected by our many attempts to control and influence the outcome. Differing from the common situations in which we act toward practical, everyday concerns, we attempt to evade those situations that bring to light our helplessness and weakness regarding those things we cherish most. Unfortunately the situations that bring our powerlessness to our attention only differ in their particulars, and continually resurface.
Consequently, songs that tell the stories of love lost, incarceration, and death indicate the persistent quest for a place other than where we are now—a place “somewhere across the border, where pain and memory have been stilled,” but through such songs we are also made aware of the very limited character of our existence. It is as if we are surrounded by a river of trouble “six foot high and risin’.” Once the waters of this river come into view, we notice that “what once seemed black and white turns to so many shades of grey,” and we ultimately notice that we are sinking slowly into the deep, black water of doubt. And it is precisely this precariousness that presents us with questions over what we think we know about ourselves and the world. As a result, such a situation not only provides an opportunity for song, but it is also the source from which philosophy springs.
As I mentioned earlier, the situations that are capable of bringing to our attention both the frailty and conditioned nature of human existence, along with our own unique and authentic possibilities, were termed “ultimate situations” by Jaspers. Jaspers was born in the town of Oldenburg, Germany in 1883 and lived through the perilous times of the First and Second World Wars. Living when he did, Jaspers was unavoidably caught in the political turbulence of the time and lived long enough, dying in 1969, for the drastic changes in the political and philosophical thought of the early and mid-twentieth century to take center stage in his work. Even as he attempted to make sense of the world, the existentialism he developed early on in his career remained a constant.
Jaspers began his career studying law, and then turned toward medicine and psychology, before giving way to philosophy and political concerns. Of the several important philosophical figures that bear on his thinking, Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) casts an especially long shadow. Jaspers’s move from science to more philosophical concerns was in large part motivated by his desire to reinterpret Kantian thought in ways that were less formal and optimistic regarding the extent of human knowledge. It was in this move that Jaspers came to focus on the limits of knowledge, freedom and the possibilities of a more authentic life. Helping him make this move across the border were two additional thinkers many have heard of, especially in regard to existentialism, namely, Kierkegaard and Nietzsche.
Both the Danish thinker Søren Kierkegaard (1813–1855) and the German Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) introduced a considerable disturbance to traditional philosophy through their severe criticism and denial of absolute certainty, but it was their insistence on the freedom found in the potentiality of the individual that was decisive for Jaspers. Jaspers likewise recognized his time, as Kierkegaard and Nietzsche did previously with their own, as one in which there was an undue confidence in our human capacities, specifically reason as it is applied to the sciences and technology. Related to this is the ever increasing demand by society for conformity, this was again something all three experienced as a loss of individuality. Kierkegaard saw it as a profound separation and inauthentic relation to God, Nietzsche saw a glorification of the mediocrity of the “herd,” while Jaspers found the frightening conformity and willingness to be led into disastrous, even murderous political conflict to be a decisive loss of humanity. Jaspers by being married to Gertrude, a Jewish woman he deeply loved, felt first hand the precariousness of life and witnessed how so many were pulled into unthinking agreement with Nazi designs. We can easily understand Springsteen’s words in this respect as indicating one distinct existential possibility Jaspers was well aware of, “Fear’s a powerful thing, It can turn your heart black you can trust, It’ll take your God filled soul, And fill it with devils and dust.”
Jaspers’s philosophy is called “Existenz-philosophy.” What he means by Existenz comes from Kierkegaard, and considers the “who” that each of us is in inwardly comprehending ourselves. This is not merely our organic life, as a living thing in a certain place and time, it is not who we are in abstract reflection, nor is it something spiritual, as that which tries to include our experiences, culture and life. Existenz is who we are to ourselves—limited and exposed, authentic and free—standing before the all, “Transcendence.” The haziness of this idea is intentional, because even though it is the basis for our specific historical existence it can not be captured by a concept and is only made actual by being truly self-aware. Resulting from these ideas is the notion that Existenz is a possibility we each individually possess as human beings, no other thing has this as a possibility, and unfortunately it may never be realized, and if it is, it is only momentary, ultimately fading back into something inauthentic. Nevertheless this mode of existing is a possibility for overcoming any number of names or labels we might give to ourselves- poor, rich, banker, mechanic, thief, con, husband, wife, and so on. So, in the end this mode of existing can be considered the possibility of coming back to ourselves.
With this in mind we can think of Jaspers’s philosophy as trying to bring Existenz to light, relate it to itself and expose its possibilities. Since Existenz is something that each person must be brought to on his or her own, speaking about it is ambiguous and filled with the risk of misunderstanding. But this is necessary in order that a person’s reason can be brought to its limits and that is how a person can gain the impression of that something just across the border. And this is precisely what becomes possible in an ultimate situation.
So, if we return to the different types of ultimate situations, death, suffering, struggle, guilt, and take the time to elaborate on them in respect to Springsteen’s songs, a more precise picture of the road we are traveling will emerge.

Rubbernecking at Death on the Highway

We can begin with death. Death is an interesting place to start, since death is an end, and an end shared by all living things. But because “all things die, and that’s a fact” we can’t, in the course of living, help forgetting this objective inevitability. Death always lies at a distant, indeterminate time and remains inconsequential in the general state of things. Death hits home only when it directly confronts us, and this can happen when a loved one dies or when one is confronted by one’s own death. In either case there’s a recognition of loss, whether a loss of being able to communicate and be with the person you love or the loss of one’s appearance in the world of the living. Narrowing these ideas to an even finer point, we can say that there is a sense of horror at the prospect of not being, whether it is a person who is loved or yourself.
Existentialists see that the prospect of non-being and the feelings that accompany it, anguish, dread, unease, come out of the misty perception that the world and even the self rest on nothing, there is no absolute basis or ground. It is as if we, driving through our lives, have set the cruise control, but occasionally we are stirred from our road-induced stupor and become aware that the tires of the car are not hitting the pavement, we are actually driving over a bottomless gorge, suspended over nothing, supported by nothing. This realization assuredly brings about a wreck on the highway, but a necessary one if we are ever to overcome merely cruising through life and reach the “salvation” of Existenz.
It’s easy to imagine through the song “Wreck on the Highway” someone who has come across death, and been thrown upon the unwanted prospect of no longer being with his girlfriend or young wife. Death has knocked on the soul like a state trooper knocking at the door. As a fellow existentialist notes, “To exist as a human being means to be exposed to Nothingness.” And the salvation that occurs from this exposure is being able to live in the truth—the truth of never finding the world to have stable ground. “The bottomless character of the world must become revealed to us, if we are to win through to the truth of the world.”35 All the tales of those who have been confronted by death speak of people who have had the ground drop out from under them; and this is no less true for those who have lost their jobs and livelihoods. In both cases the heroes go sinkin’ down, and this is not limited to Youngstown, although it may be worse there these days.
Reacting to death can be done in any number of ways, yet there seem to be certain basic tendencies that are capable of being classified in one of two forms. One all too common tendency is to deny death the fullness of its potentiality. The song “Across the Border” expresses one reaction to death. In this song Bruce sings of a land not so far away where “pain and memory have been stilled,” and in this land across the border are flowers and pastures and clear waters, “and in your arms’neath the open skies / I’ll kiss the sorrow from your eyes.”
Here we have a picture of the Promised Land, and what would heaven be without the one you love? Unfortunately, thinking that life will continue after death is but one side of a several-sided problem. This life becomes a simple phase to endure until the afterlife. Similarly, even if heaven is not a consideration, but life is understood as holding nothing permanent, everything fades and passes away, a sense of assurance is created, while simultaneously encouraging apathetic dealings with the world. And still if one were to develop a hunger or excessive zeal for life in its many temporary instances, what has been overlooked is the ambiguity of life in addition to death. To preserve death’s character as a boundary situation there is a continual risk that must be taken. The risk is not truly being oneself, the self to be gained is the one able to remain in the open and uncertainty of existence. You must be able to retain the suspense found in death and non-being. “Despair is the font from which we draw the assurance of being. It is the nature of our sense of being that to be means to have looked upon the face of death.” 36

The Never-ending Stretch of Badlands

One of the alluring qualities in the songs of Springsteen is the ability to relate the common and not so common sufferings people face. Whether singing of the hardship of a job or the loss of it, the struggle to find and keep love, or simply the dissatisfaction with life, he presents us with the inevitability of suffering. Living in the badlands of the world means suffering; we constantly come up against painful obstacles that block the way to happiness. The constant back-breaking work we do and the continued pressure to get the job right lead to suffering—this along with our constant dissatisfaction fuels the drive to get rich, to control more, to somehow get over the hill, are the badlands we hope to make good. These barriers are erected by the combination of our aspirations and our physical state. Examples like sickness, bad luck, and, more often than not, other people, each mark a limit to existence that no one can escape, as Bruce says “hunger is a powerful thing.”
Although misery loves company, we all must realize that suffering is both unavoidable and definitively ours. As a boundary situation suffering cannot be thought of as something that can be by-passed. Though we do have some success in avoiding and overcoming certain pains and sufferings, there still must be the acknowledgment that suffering is certain and just as importantly, forges who we are. According to Jaspers, there must again be a risk and an oscillation between poles. We must risk being happy in our suffering and adjust our alignment between passively accepting life’s hardships and actively fighting an unwinnable battle. Traveling in this way allows each of us to see our suffering as inherently bound to us and not simply occurring from a toss of the dice. From such a heightened perspective we may come to see the suffering of others as part of our own suffering. As a result we may come to be possessed by the ghost of Tom Joad and feel ourselves there when and where ever there is a fight against blood and hatred.

Real World, Real Struggle

From suffering the next turn is struggle. As opposed to death and suffering, both of which occur without any specific doings on our part, struggle, as well as guilt, comes about due to the actions we take. Yet here again we find a certain inevitability, for we cannot help causing these situations by living in the real world. We struggle against the world, against other people, in addition to ourselves. In all of this our struggles can either be violent or loving. Violent struggle is easily recognized, for this happens when our existence is threatened and threatens another’s existence—there simply is not enough space for us to co-exist. When this happens we may very well end up like Johnny 99, either dead or wishing we were. Loving struggle, on the other hand, is a nonviolent fight, it is the attempt to manifest who we truly are to another person. Of course achieving this goal is rare and momentary, but if achieved, we have opened ourselves to another to such an extent that he or she catches a glimpse of who we really are. As Bruce puts it, “I’m searchin’ for one clear moment of love and truth / I still got a little faith / But what I need is some proof tonight / I’m lookin’ for it in your eyes.”
How can we not imagine in Springsteen’s mournful and beckoning cries to the women that have kept him searching in the night that these cries are the cries of a loving struggle?

The Inevitability of the Price You Pay

The last situation we all have come up against is guilt. Here again we confront certain consequences because we live and must act in the world. And when these consequences reveal the exploitive character of living, we find guilt. Just as in other situations that bring our limits in view, revealing an ambiguity, guilt does the same. There are things we should feel guilty about, because we could have acted differently and avoided the consequences. But there’s also guilt that cannot be escaped. In the song “Darkness on the Edge of Town,” Bruce says:
Everybody’s got a secret Sonny,
Something that they just can’t face,
Some folks spend their whole lives trying to keep it,
They carry it with them every step that they take,
Till some day they just cut it loose,
Cut it loose or let it drag ’em down.
And in “The Price You Pay,” we find these words:
You make up your mind, you choose the chance you take,
You ride to where the highway ends and the desert breaks,
Out on to an open road you ride until day
You learn to sleep at night with the price you pay.
These Springsteen songs bring the situation of guilt into the foreground. With the realization that both money and a wife have been lost, there is also the realization that these things might have been avoidable, but our hero has to race, and because the Trestles have such a strong pull. Sooner or later his actions were going to incur a price to pay—guilt. Yet, as we hear the claim in the first song, “Everybody’s got a secret, Sonny,” we come to suspect that there is inevitability in making choices, and because of this there is also an unavoidable guilt. Such guilt keeps us struggling to “learn to sleep at night.” The question quickly becomes, “What are we to do?” Jaspers provides an answer, but we are still caught at the border, “It is not a matter of guiltlessness any more, but of really avoiding whatever guilt I can avoid, so as to come to the profound, intrinsic, unavoidable guilt- without coming to rest there either” (p. 217). In other words, we are “fallen,” but can help ourselves only by falling in a more concerned way.

Reason to Believe When There’s None

Has your car at this point swerved off the road? Has it begun to sputter and stall? Have you driven into a tunnel with no headlights? Or have you reached a tollbooth with no change, stuck between the edge of town and the vast expanse beyond? If so, good, but now put your foot down, let the spinning tires get traction, close your eyes and let the car jump the guard rails into the unknown. This is a leap of faith and for Jaspers a leap of philosophic (rather than religious) faith. Running up against the limits should cause you to think there is infinitely more, something unfathomable, and becoming aware of this is becoming aware of the Transcendent.
Saying “yes” or “no” to this “something” is done in complete freedom, and there are no good reasons from which you can make a decision; it is something only you as an individual can do. If you catch a whiff, whether as sweet fragrance or something less appealing, of God, then you are getting the idea. What Jaspers is proposing is that the Transcendent is Being with a capital B, and it is that out of which all things, including us, spring forth. However, unlike the God of Sunday school, the Transcendent cannot be known; it is that impenetrable mystery on the other side of the border.
So when Bruce rightly puzzles over how people find a reason to believe as their faithful dogs die, their fiancés leave them at the altar, and spouses take the money and run, we can suggest that these people have found themselves in an ultimate situation and it’s entirely up to them, as it is for all of us who face such situations, whether the car is gunned, setting the street on fire as their tires spin, and they continue to drive all night.