3.1. The Romantic Allure of Born to Run
Within the realm of Springsteen’s lyrical landscape, the idyllic conception of the ‘promised land’ is permeated with complex layers of reality, interwoven with vivid urban contexts. He extends a universal invitation to his audience while beckoning them to immerse themselves in the aspirations, dreams, and tribulations of his protagonists’ odysseys, which are depicted with a variety of emotional dispositions ranging from quiet resignation to defiant assertion (
Garman 1996, p. 74). The thematic motif of mobility permeates Springsteen’s magnum opus,
Born To Run, as he intricately maps out expansive geographical terrains, traversing networks of roads, rivers, and highways juxtaposed against the gritty underbelly of urban sprawl. Here, his characters find themselves ensnared in existential limbo, depicted frozen in the melancholic inertia of Tenth Avenue, disoriented amidst the urban jungle of ‘Jungleland’, or grappling with the allure of self-destruction in the embrace of ‘suicide machines.’ Commencing with the inaugural track, “Thunder Road”, Springsteen punctuates the album with the evocative hum of a car engine, setting the stage for a lyrical dialogue between the narrator and Mary, wherein he tenderly entices her to forsake the monotony of their provincial milieu in favor of a spirited journey towards the mythical American ‘promised land’, propelled by the pulsating rhythm of rock ‘n’ roll.
The screen door slams,
Mary’s dress sways
Like a vision, she dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
…
All the redemption I can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey, what else can we do now?
By setting up a measure for an adventurous drive, Springsteen is declaring a romantic desire to escape to some ideal, promised land as his narrator eagerly asks Mary not to turn off her desire to escape while offering her the front seat of his car. One can effortlessly point out Springsteen’s outlook towards hyper-charged individual action in the background of a locomotive urban reality, where the narrator has been seen recollecting his rebellious impulses from a Roy Orbison track on the radio. Eventually, the narrator, with an intriguing quest for a new beginning, has ultimately revealed his prior intention of accoupling Mary through the dusty, bumpy, and symbolic ‘thunder road.’
Oh-oh, come take my hand
We’re riding out tonight to case the promised land
…
So Mary, climb in
It’s a town full of losers
And I’m pulling out of here to win
Springsteen’s utilization of the phrase ‘case the promised land’ serves as an inaugural gesture, setting the thematic underpinning for the ensuing verses and unequivocally affirming the existence of paradisiacal realms. The persona exhibits a disinterest in the logistical feasibility of infiltrating such idyllic terrains, remaining indifferent to their ontological status, be it corporeal or fantastical; the paramount concern lies in the fervent aspiration to rupture the tether binding him to the mundane and uninspiring landscape of extant commitments.
And I know you’re lonely, and there are words that I ain’t spoken
But tonight, we’ll be free; all the promises’ll be broken
With the masterful deployment of vivid imagery and profound symbolism, Springsteen orchestrates a narrative imbued with a fervent intimacy between the protagonist and Mary, wherein they navigate the clandestine pathways to the metaphorical ‘promised land’, spurred by their romantic yearning for sustaining their youthfulness. Particularly, the culminating lines of the composition position the protagonist amidst quintessential American disillusionment, compelling a final, desperate quest for a realm steeped in hope, aspirations, and boundless potential. While reflecting on this context, Samuel F.S. Pardini has associated the protagonist of this song with “modern, urban Huck Finn”, who, “at the steering wheel of his automobile, the prime American symbol of male escapism (disguised as freedom), wants to light out for the territory ahead and find a heaven for the two of them”. (
Pardini 2012, p. 103). The sole redemption proffered by the protagonist to Mary resides beneath the hood of his automobile, starkly contrasting the deceptive allure of provincial confines and the false glamor of estranged urban life. Herein, the protagonist constructs a physical landscape within Mary’s psyche, delineating a spatial topography of movement through streets, highways, and thoroughfares, seeking to ameliorate her from a terrain of ‘loss’ wherein echoes of a delusional past impede her mobility. Springsteen’s intent to transcend the constricting bounds of a proletarian geography dominated by frigid factories and machinery is palpably manifested in the protagonist’s manipulative impetus, recognizing the town’s inhabitants as ‘losers’ and thus compelled to flee the hopeless urban territories.
However, the subsequent compositions stemming from the album, including notable pieces like “Born To Run”, “Backstreets”, “Meeting Across the River”, “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out”, and finally “Jungleland”, diverge from mere depictions of the travails of the purported working class. William I. Wolff, in his book
Bruce Springsteen and Popular Music: Rhetoric, Social Consciousness, and Contemporary Culture (
Wolff 2019), posits that Springsteen’s conceptualization of the working class embodies an idealized, nostalgic, romanticized, and contentious portrayal of a populace far more diverse than initially portrayed (
Wolff 2019, p. 67). The expansive vista of an emotionally tumultuous terrain, proffered by Springsteen in subsequent tracks, is significantly augmented by the projection of economic and cultural upheaval across an indistinct white urban American working-class enclave, where the communal fabric teeters on the brink of dissolution. In the composition of “Born to Run”, we discern Springsteen’s poetic persona intricately entwined with the protagonists and narrators of the song, solidifying his role as the eternal spokesperson for a specific cohort ensnared in a perpetual socio-spatial struggle, fervently seeking a symbolic ‘promised land.’ Employing a formulaic strophic structure across three successive verses and modulating chord progressions alongside recurring refrains, Springsteen unabashedly articulates a fervent ‘promise of escape’ within this composition. Here, the impassioned romantic impulse of the narrator yields to the grandeur of both abstract and tangible references to the ‘promised land’, merging into a symbolic framework endeavoring to rediscover the quotidian socio-spatial existence of the song’s characters.
In the day, we sweat it out on the streets
Of a runaway American dream
At night, we ride through the mansions of glory
In suicide machines
Sprung from cages on Highway 9
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin’ out over the line
Oh, baby, this town rips the bones from your back
It’s a death trap, its a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we’re young
’Cause tramps like us, baby, we were born to run
Within this narrative ambit, the focal point is Wendy, a quintessential American archetype, yearning for liberation from the relentless and oppressive urban sprawl. As Springsteen’s lyrical motif unfolds, it endeavors, akin to Kenneth Burke’s notion of ‘consubstantiality’, to engender a shared essence with both the audience and the song’s characters, particularly Wendy. Burke, in his book
A Rhetoric of Motives (
Burke 1962), defines “consubstantiality” as the state wherein one becomes “substantially one” with another while retaining individual agency—a delicate balance of unity and autonomy (
Burke 1962, p. 20). In parallel, Springsteen’s lyrical imagination weaves a narrative of unyielding blue-collar realism, seeking to empathize with Wendy’s existential anguish while maintaining a degree of detachment from her somber plight. Thus, he endeavors to infuse Wendy’s troubled psyche with a semblance of optimism, assuring her of the shared destiny of their generation—nomadic souls destined to ‘run’ towards life’s romantic allure. Notably, the temporal landscape of ‘night’ emerges as a potent symbol in Springsteen’s vision of a utopian ‘promised land’, injected with an unbridled romanticism diametrically opposed to the alienating mundanity of daytime existence. His narrative voice resents the frenetic hustle of daytime, likening it to a ‘death trap’ and a ‘suicide rap’, while his characters find resonance in the nocturnal realm, where the fluidity of ‘lived time’ ignites a revolutionary fervor amidst the banality of their estranged everyday reality.
The highway’s jammed with broken heroes
On a last chance power drive
Everybody’s out on the run tonight
But there’s no place left to hide
Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness
I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul
Oh, someday, girl, I don’t know when
We’re gonna get to that place
Where we really wanna go, and we’ll walk in the sun …
The narrator justifies his reason behind an urgent symbolic ‘run’ or a desperate attempt for a quick escape to the glorious promise of a future, which is tantamount to discovering his ideal ‘promised land.’ The narrator’s utterances of the ‘hemi-powered drones’, ‘rear-view mirrors’, ‘noisy boulevards’, and finally, the unforgettable image of a ‘jammed highway with broken heroes’ have framed a symbolic network of the collective repressive desires of the young American individuals. Such a symbolic formulation leads to the production of what Lefebvre suggests as ‘spaces of leisure’ that can be identified in the individual or public urges of denial, resistance, and escape from the rationalized state-dominated spaces of a homogeneous modernity. Lefebvre has called such spaces of leisure the “counter space”, which unleashes the libidinal impulse against the normative social order by making its inhabitants explode through the system of contradictory spatialization (
Lefebvre 1991, p. 73). Therefore, Springsteen’s narrator in the song, who will perhaps be sooner or later counted on the list of his broken heroes, is destined to run from the hegemonic forces of industrial capitalism until he reaches the differential space of his desired destination. Hence, the frenzied narrator, while persuading Wendy for a redemptive escape, is engaging himself in the act of a spatial struggle by ‘re-adapting’ to his dominated space of ‘being’ in his everyday life. Similar stances can be found in his other songs like “Jungleland”, “The Promised Land”, “Badlands”, and “Darkness on the Edge of the Town”, which are replete with such narratorial desires for an ultimate detachment from the everyday flow of time, or what Bergson calls ‘durée.’
3.2. Jungleland, Darkness on the Edge of Town and the Temporal–Geography of Resistance
In the culminating song of his pivotal album Born To Run, Springsteen masterfully conjures the plaintive echoes of marginalized souls, buoyed by an ethos of hope and audacity that renders them temporally, spatially, and ethically impervious to the specters of their tumultuous pasts and the stifling confines of their urban milieu. Commencing the final composition, “Jungleland”, with a lilting symphony of violin and piano, Springsteen orchestrates a romantic tableau inhabited by enigmatic protagonists Magic Rat and the Barefoot Girl, ensnared in the murky throes of an undisclosed transgression, pursued relentlessly by the authoritarian arm of the law, represented by the ominous Maximum Lawmen. Throughout the song’s unfolding narrative, the chase persists unabated, while the omniscient narrator, poised from a consubstantial vantage, offers intermittent glimpses of the revolutionary urban landscape, teeming with a tantalizing tapestry of possibilities and perils. Springsteen’s creative acumen expands the sonic palette of the composition, culminating in a crescendo of lyrical virtuosity in the third stanza, wherein the listener is transported to the visceral realm of ‘Jungleland’, a realm pulsating with the frenetic cadence of turnpikes, balletic interludes, nocturnal gangs, shadowy alleys, grand operas, vigilant law enforcement, and the incandescent riffs of burgeoning rock ‘n’ roll ensembles.
Well, the midnight gang’s assembled
And picked a rendezvous for the night
They’ll meet ’neath that giant Exxon sign
That brings this fair city light
…
The hungry and the hunted
Explode into rock ‘n’ roll bands
That face off against each other out in the street
Down in Jungleland
Springsteen’s poetic construction of such a fantasy world of rock ‘n’ roll is not only a product of his creative imagination but also hints at his everyday ‘lived reality’ while growing up in the North American suburbs. As he moves the song forward with a frantic and free-flowing saxophone solo, the tragic spectrum of the ‘Jungleland’ becomes clearer when the narrator shifts our attention to the parking lot—symbolizing the underground urban life—where the ‘lonely hearted lovers’ have been seen struggling. But none of them seems to care for the clueless victimization of Magic Rat and his girl, even though they belong to their league. Springsteen tries to establish the tragically romantic serenade of Magic Rat and his girl as a futile attempt towards community engagement at the very heart of this Jungleland. Here, the narrator has captured a series of terrifying image sequences, the range of which blurs the boundary between private and public space. Starting from the spectrum of refusal in the private space of a girl’s bedroom to the overlooked gunshots in the hallways and uptown tunnels, Springsteen has forebodingly measured the vast hollowness across the city, where everyone finally ends up being wounded and half dead in their vague attempts at redemption. After envisaging such a horrifying range of alienation, the narrator finally becomes stoic and helpless, with no words left to describe such a pathetic panorama of a petrified urban landscape where everyday life is constantly being resonated with the guttural cries of its denizens from the nooks and crannies. In most cases, Springsteen’s narrators have threateningly been silenced after witnessing the unforgiving and suffocating situations in such soul-deadening landscapes where they find it utterly difficult to sustain their euphoric hopes and beliefs and better promise of life in the future. The reason of which Springsteen himself has described in his autobiography—
Born To Run (
Springsteen 2016)—while pointing out “a seismic gap” that he thinks “had opened up between generations” where the young tramps of the American 1960s and 1970s have suddenly started feeling “orphaned, abandoned amid the flow of history” with their “compass spinning internally homeless” (
Springsteen 2016, p. 167). Most of Springsteen’s sagacious song stories do not map his narrators at the pivot of their self-contentment but relatively make them martyrized in their decamping journey of self-exploration, which assures them a sense of victory. Therefore, in “Jungleland”, the ill-fated Magic Rat and Barefoot Girl have failed to create an exception; thereby, they are placed alongside the other victimized and broken heroes of Springsteen and have been seen trying to reach for their desired moment by making an honest stand.
Outside, the street’s on fire in a real death waltz
Between what is flesh and what is fantasy
And the poets down here do not write nothing at all
They just stand back and let it all be
And in the quick of a knife, they reach for their moment
And try to make an honest stand
But they wind up wounded, not even dead
Tonight in Jungleland
The behavioral tendencies exhibited by Springsteen’s characters may sometimes appear ostensibly irrational or driven by materialistic pursuits, as their socio-spatial existence is ensconced within a framework of libidinal desire. As Harvey posits in an alternative context, such socio-spatial dynamics are never devoid of inherent biases and are inherently imbued with class or other social dimensions, frequently becoming focal points of fervent social contestation (Harvey 239). In this vein, Springsteen not only alludes to the tangible formation of youth culture within the harsh confines of urban environments but also underscores the individual’s role in shaping societal spatial constructs, thereby offering a critical commentary on the socio-cultural fabric of these locales. The symbolic attachment of Springsteen’s narrators to subversive activities within these social spaces is characterized by a cyclic and reversible act of temporality, epitomized in verses such as “I wanna die with you, Wendy, on the street tonight/In an everlasting kiss”, brimming with anticipation, intuition, and fervor. Similar thematic undercurrents permeate other compositions such as “Jungleland”, “The Promised Land”, “Badlands”, and “Darkness on the Edge of Town”, wherein narratorial desires for transcending the quotidian temporal continuum, akin to Bergson’s concept of ‘durée’, are vividly articulated. The deliberate pursuit of detachment enables these narrators to apprehend a sense of ‘totality’, encapsulating themselves within the creative thrust of a singular ‘moment.’
However, within the narrative realm under scrutiny, the quotidian existence of the characters unfolds within the embrace of an unbridled compulsion towards romanticism. This act of fervent embrace bears the potential to encounter the barriers imposed by socio-cultural and territorial constraints enforced by the state, thus altering the very essence of their daily existence. In this narrative, the characters embark on a journey of embracing these ‘moments’ with the utmost intensity, challenging societal norms and the homogenizing effects of modernity. Their desire to emerge “wounded” but not “dead” underscores their pursuit of the profound significance found in those fleeting moments, which disrupt the routinized and objectified nature of their socio-spatial relationships. In Lefebvre’s conceptualization, the notion of a ‘moment’ transcends mere temporal progression, embodying instead what he terms “modalities of presence” or encounters with “partial totalities” (
Lefebvre 2014, p. 234). Unlike Bergson’s linear understanding of time, Lefebvre characterizes these moments as discrete instances that exist somewhat independently from the conventional flow of time. These individual or collective experiences offer fleeting yet profound insights, aspiring to bridge the gap between the ‘particular’ and the ‘universal’. They neither confine themselves to a singular ‘instance’ nor fully unveil an absolute conception of totality. Rather, each ‘moment’ represents a fragment of totality, contributing to the temporal landscape of resistance within everyday life.
Drawing upon Lefebvre’s conceptualization, the ‘moment’ is elucidated as the “modalities of presence” or an encounter with “partial totalities”, diverging from Bergson’s linear conception of time by comprising a sequence of discrete ‘instances’ existing beyond the confines of the chronological procession. (
Lefebvre 2014, p. 234). Such individual or collective encounters bear the potential for revelation, albeit fleeting and penetrating in essence. Consequently, the ‘moments’ transcend the banal empirical structures of everyday existence, endeavoring to forge a connection between the individual and the universal. Neither do these ‘moments’ remain confined within a singular ‘instance’, nor do they unveil an absolute panorama of ‘totality.’ Instead, the ‘moment’ itself emerges as a fragment of the ‘totality’, thereby delineating the temporal geography of resistance within everyday life. Lefebvre rejects the concept of ‘totality’ as a singular and uniform entity, opting instead to emphasize the emergence of a multitude of perspectives within social spaces. This highlights the emergence of diverse forms of totality through a revolutionary process of temporalization across various socio-cultural contexts.
However, Springsteen’s lyrical impulse becomes darker and grittier in “Darkness on the Edge of Town”, where, instead of a demented search for the redemptive moments, his song stories “reflect the obsessions of a relatively naïve white boy who is shocked to learn that the world is not his oyster” (
Cullen 2005, p. 64). In this compilation, Springsteen has artfully honed his narrative voice to encompass the vast panorama of American suffering, anguish, and bereavement. The American landscape he presents here is a distorted iteration of the metaphorical ‘Jungleland’, a realm in which his protagonists frequently find themselves ensnared amidst tumultuous and infernal predicaments, as epitomized in “Adam Raised a Cain”, “Badlands”, and “Factory”. Particularly within these compositions, Springsteen’s narrators are denied even the semblance of pursuing their coveted ‘moments’. Conversely, tracks such as “Something in the Night”, “The Promised Land”, and “Racing in The Street” effuse with his lyrical acumen, depicting the ‘streets’ as avenues where socially marginalized figures endeavor to grasp at the quintessential ‘moment’ amid the quotidian drudgery of their lives. Notably, in “The Promised Land”, Springsteen eschews intricate imagery, opting instead for a direct motif, wherein he unveils the underlying catalyst behind his blue-collar narrator’s outpouring of frustration—a steadfast faith in a promised land.
The dogs on Main Street howl
’Cause they understand
If I could wrench one moment into my hands
Mister, I ain’t a boy; no, I’m a man
And I believe in a promised land
Here, Springsteen’s thematic focus gravitates singularly towards dismantling the false ideologies and illusory dreams ingrained by capitalist hegemony into the collective consciousness of American youth. The narrative protagonist, steadfast in his aspirations despite disillusionment, symbolically dismantles the icy constraints of industrial capitalism, opting to detonate the figurative shackles of his entrapment. This album notably eschews characters of timidity and juvenility; rather, Springsteen crafts figures of nuanced maturity and fervor, poised to confront adversity with unwavering defiance and spatial resistance. Through his portrayal of rebellious protagonists, Springsteen affords us a glimpse into the socio-spatial struggle ensconced within the ‘darkness on the edge of town’, a locus emblematic of their existential strife. Notably, in the titular track, the narrator elucidates the physical manifestation of such a locale in the concluding verse—the hill—situated beyond the confines of urbanity, transcending the commodified realm of civilization.
Tonight, I’ll be on that hill ’cause I can’t stop
I’ll be on that hill with everything I got
With our lives on the line where dreams are found and lost
I’ll be there on time and I’ll pay the cost
For wanting things that can only be found
In the darkness on the edge of town
The narrator has yet to delineate whether the chosen eminence would yield the fruition of all his life’s pledges. Nevertheless, an epiphany dawns upon him, elucidating that the essence of his envisioned ‘promised land’ resides within the sanctum of wilderness. This realization unveils the intrinsic incapacity of modern urban capitalism and technocratic epistemologies to inscribe the raw, untamed contours of the natural landscape. Indeed, it is within the sequestered precincts of nature that the elusive essence of fulfillment, impervious to the machinations of contemporary socio-economic paradigms, finds its abode.