SINCE Americans have recently found it more comfortable to see where they have been than to think of where they are going, their state of mind has become increasingly passive and spectatorial. Historical novels, fictionalized biographies, collections of pictures and cartoons, books on American re- gions and rivers, have poured forth to satisfy a ravenous appe- tite for Americana. This quest for the American past is car- ried on in a spirit of sentimental appreciation rather than of critical analysis. An awareness of history is always a part of any culturally alert national life; but I believe that what underlies this overpowering nostalgia of the last fifteen years is a keen feeling of insecurity. The two world wars, unstable booms, and the abysmal depression of our time have pro- foundly shaken national confidence in the future. During the boom of the twenties it was commonly taken for granted that the happy days could run on into an indefinite future; today there are few who do not assume just as surely the coming of another severe economic slump. If the future seems dark, the past by contrast looks rosier than ever; but it is used far less to locate and guide the present than to give reassurance. American history, presenting itself as a rich and

rewarding spectacle, a succession of well-fulfilled promises, induces a desire to observe and enjoy, not to analyze and act. The most common vision of national life, in its fond- ness for the panoramic backward gaze, has been that of the observation-car platform. 

I decided to pick the introduction because the author uses a good technique to get the reader’s attention. In my opinion I do agree that we are becoming more passive and I feel that the main reason is because of dramatic events such as 9.11 and American wars that make us act more careful, such as WWII. I feel that it is true we are able to apply history as a guide. For example, peaceful marches instead of violence.