up and reporters were paid off by rich families." It briefly discusses the Evelyn Nesbit-Stanford White-Harry K. Thaw scandal as a complex event that the dominant culture was unwilling to fully acknowledge. The paragraph concludes with, "Apparently there were Negroes. There were immigrants," emphasizing the mainstream culture's resistance to accepting these truths without naming specific individuals.

The Morgan Library serves as the most potent symbol of mainstream culture in the novel, housing invaluable historical artifacts that trace Western civilization's legacy from Europe back to ancient Egypt. The greatest threat to these treasures is the dynamite of Coalhouse Walker's gang, ready to destroy centuries of culture to obtain justice for a black man marginalized by the cultural establishment. Coalhouse Walker uses his intellect to force the system to comply with his demands; however, as an outsider, he is shot at the first chance. The immigrant workers at the Lawrence wool mill face an even harsher reality, striking for justice only to be brutally crushed by law enforcement. After this, the character Tateh reappears, having found success in American society by capitalizing on the growing entertainment industry. Both Harry Houdini and the members of the Emerald Isle fire company navigate the boundary between old and new cultures. Houdini, like Tateh/Baron Ashkenazy, gains wealth through entertainment, allowing him access to mainstream culture, yet he remains unfulfilled, pushing his acts to the limit with "suspicions that his life was unimportant and his achievements laughable." The firemen are part of the social order, but their recent integration into American culture is evident in their firehouse's name, linking them to Ireland. Their targeting of a black man, who holds a lower social status, indicates their insecurity about their societal position.

In this novel, sex is not given a simple symbolic interpretation. For Mother, it represents her broadening perspective as she transitions from being prudish to becoming more engaged. In the second chapter, when Houdini's visit interrupts an intimate moment between Mother and Father (clinically referred to as "coitus"), the novel observes, "There was no sign from Mother that it was now to be resumed. She fled to her garden." However, after finding a baby buried in the garden, which rekindles her zest for life, Father returns from his Polar expedition to discover she is "in some way not as vigorously modest." At this juncture, guilty over his affair with an Eskimo woman, he anticipates her rejection, yet she begins staying in his room and reaching out to him in bed. Evelyn Nesbit is portrayed as sexually promiscuous, involved with Stanford White, her husband Harry Thaw, Mother's Younger Brother, and a ragtime dancer. Yet, the novel depicts her as a woman in search of fulfillment. She remains discontent, never as satisfied pleasing men as she hopes to be. The book states, "She loved (Younger Brother) but she wanted someone who would treat her badly and whom she could treat badly." Conversely, Emma Goldman places little importance on her sexual relationships, both past and present: "In the room tonight," she tells Younger Brother, "you saw my present lover but also my former lovers. We are all good friends. Friendship is what endures." Regardless of the characters' attitudes toward sex, it is mocked as absurd in the novel's most bizarre and memorable scene. Goldman's lengthy, sensual massage of Nesbit is suddenly interrupted by Younger Brother, who, unable to control his sexual urges, bursts out of the closet.

In Ragtime, E.L. Doctorow masterfully explores a central theme of searching for "the proper alignment," a concept illustrated through both fictional narratives and real historical figures. This notion is vividly encapsulated in his portrayal of Theodore Dreiser, a novelist tormented by the lackluster reception of his debut work, Sister Carrie. Doctorow describes Dreiser’s futile attempts to find comfort by endlessly rotating a wooden chair in his room, seeking but never discovering the perfect orientation. This fruitless quest symbolizes a deeper, universal struggle for finding one's place in the world.

Doctorow extends this theme beyond Dreiser by weaving the lives of other historical figures into his narrative. Robert Peary, known for his Arctic explorations, embodies this relentless pursuit as he ventures into uncharted territories, driven by the allure of discovery and conquest. Similarly, industrialist John Pierpont Morgan exemplifies this quest through his efforts to impose order and structure on the chaotic marketplace of the Gilded Age. Both men, like Dreiser, are emblematic of the American spirit's tireless search for belonging and certainty in a world often resistant to such clarity.

Through these characters, Doctorow paints a vivid picture of America as a landscape continually molded by individuals seeking alignment, not only in their physical surroundings but also in a broader existential sense. This search for alignment is a reflection of the psychological and cultural forces that shape the nation, highlighting the perennial human desire for a harmonious existence within the universe’s grand, often perplexing, scheme.

In the quest for alignment, two seemingly disparate endeavors—the introspections of Dreiser and the expansive journeys of Peary—intersect in their shared sense of futility. Dreiser’s search unfolds within the confines of a rented room, a space that mirrors his internal void laden with self-doubt and a creeping sense of depression. His struggle is deeply personal, an inward reflection that questions his very essence and place in the world.

Peary, in stark contrast, sets his sights on the vast, unforgiving expanses of the Arctic, driven by his ambition to reach the North Pole. Despite the grandeur of his journey, Peary’s predicament bears an uncanny similarity to Dreiser’s intimate turmoil. Both men grapple with the elusive nature of certainty and alignment. Peary, convinced he has reached the vicinity of the North Pole, is plagued by doubt, unable to pinpoint the exact location of this geographical grail. Lying on the icy surface, he calculates and recalculates, moving back and forth, unsatisfied with each observation. Doctorow narrates this relentless pursuit, emphasizing the disconcerting reality that no single observation can confirm Peary’s achievement—"No one observation satisfied him. . . . He couldn't find the exact place to say this spot, here, is the North Pole."

The crux of both Dreiser’s and Peary’s struggles lies in the human condition itself—our profound need for certainty and identity often outstripping the realities of our world. Doctorow’s narrative suggests that Peary’s denial of any lingering questions about his success underscores the dominance of human ego over scientific precision. This is poignantly illustrated when the narrator remarks on the fluidity of the environment: "On this watery planet the sliding sea refused to be fixed." This metaphor for the ever-shifting nature of life underscores the theme that absolute alignment, whether in personal identity or geographical discovery, remains an elusive, if not impossible, pursuit.

While Dreiser’s exploration of urban American society through the lens of naturalistic fiction focuses on the individual's navigation of social structures, and Peary’s geographical pursuits aim for centrality on the earth’s globe, Morgan’s quest transcends terrestrial boundaries, venturing into the philosophical realms of the universe. As a financier representing monopolistic capitalism, Morgan is not simply content with earthly achievements; he seeks a more profound connection with the cosmos, believing in “universal patterns of order and repetition” that imbue life on this planet with meaning.

In Morgan’s view, these cosmic patterns signify an exclusive “eternal beneficent force.” He perceives himself as the reincarnation of a great Pharaoh, a vessel of “secret wisdom” accessible only to a privileged few. Driven by this conviction, he undertakes a pilgrimage to the Great Pyramid of Giza. His ambition is to spend a night within its enduring stones, hoping to commune with the ancient energies that would reveal his soul’s destiny and his own physical vitality within the universe’s grand design.

However, the grandeur of Morgan’s vision is sharply contrasted by the mundane discomforts of reality. During his vigil within the pyramid, he is besieged not by cosmic revelations but by the humble nuisance of bedbugs. In a paradoxical twist, Morgan finds himself pacing restlessly within the pyramid’s heart, disoriented and unable to discern his cardinal directions: “He paced from west to east, from the north to the south, though he didn’t know which was which.” This nocturnal ordeal underscores the futility of his quest, illustrating that even men who wield immense earthly power may find their aspirations thwarted by the simplest of obstacles in their pursuit of universal understanding.

In the exploration of human endeavors, Doctorow presents a compelling yet satirical depiction of our relentless pursuit for meaning and belonging. Through the characters of Dreiser, Peary, and Morgan—each excelling in their respective fields of art, natural science, and economics—Doctorow critiques the misguided notion that fulfillment can be attained through external achievements. This narrative frames their aspirations as ultimately futile and absurd when anchored in the material world. Instead, Doctorow suggests that true purpose lies within the individual, implying that the quest for a definitive place in the universe must begin internally. His portrayal melds humor with a somber recognition of the limitations inherent in human ambition, challenging the reader to reconsider where they seek their own sense of meaning.