“Dirge” is a satire exposing the emptiness of the value system of the upwardly mobile executive of the early years of the Great Depression. It begins with the lack of any meaning in the concept of work, which turns out to be nothing more than a huge gambling game. Whether one is betting on the numbers, on the fifth race, or on the stock market, it is all the same: There is no value beyond the bet—the winning or losing.
It is winning, however, that pays off, and what are the stakes? One finds them in the adman’s contributions to the daily newspaper or the magazine section. One gets to drive a car with floating power (making the latest in engine mounts sound like a miracle from another world) and with knee action (making the latest technology in wheel suspension sound almost personal); a body can slide into the vehicle on the smoothness of silk, and beneath the foot is the super power of an advanced six-cylinder engine. Success at the altar is not to wed a compatible real-life woman, but to latch onto a movie star. Success at the gaming table is to companion with lady luck.
The values of daily living that give the “hero” of this poem his personal pride in his private life are the values of routine living. Paying bills on time gives the ultimate in satisfaction. There is pleasure in the security of knowing one is acceptable, choosing a gray tweed suit from the tailor, a fashionable straw hat from the milliner, and straight Scotch from...
(The entire section is 480 words.)