In Goodbye, Columbus, the protagonist, Neil, observes that many people around him appear dissatisfied with the current state of their lives. This is often due to their obsession with the past, as they are nostalgic for their former glory and cannot imagine a future quite as bright as their past. Those who are satisfied with their lives, however, rarely dwell on the past and focus instead on the progress they have made and the strides they might continue to make in the future. In other words, obsession with the past precludes happiness in the present, because it isn’t focused on making the future better.
Through Ron and Leo Patimkin, Roth illustrates the toxicity of nostalgia. Ron is nostalgic for his college years, which is symbolized by his favorite record. This record highlights events from his senior year at Ohio State University, including announcements from a basketball game in which Ron played and a recording of the school song that ends with a voice saying, “goodbye, Columbus” (Columbus is the city in which Ron’s college was located). Ron constantly plays the record in his room, humming along to the song as he remembers his former glory. This contrasts with the unhappiness that he feels in his job at his father’s kitchen and sink company. He took this job as a way to provide for his fiancée, Harriet, although he had intended to become a gym teacher. It’s clear from the joy Ron finds in sports that teaching gym would have made Ron happier than working for his father, but instead of taking steps to fix his career, he tries to relive the glory of his sports days by listening to his record on repeat. Nostalgia is, for him, a form of escapism that prevents him from being excited about the present or the future—on the night before his wedding, for instance, he spends the evening listening to the record over and over and feeling sad, rather than feeling excited and lucky to be marrying someone he loves and starting a new chapter of his life.
Likewise, Leo Patimkin (Mr. Patimkin’s half-brother) seems ruined by nostalgia. When Neil meets Leo at Ron’s wedding, Leo recounts the two best things that ever happened to him: getting a good deal on his first apartment and spending a night with a woman in San Francisco during the war. His life in the present, however, is much less happy, as he laments getting married too early and he hates his dismal job as a light bulb salesman. Neil recognizes that in focusing on the past, Leo is preventing potential happiness in the present: it’s clear to Neil that the world is open to Leo as a salesman, but that he nonetheless refuses to travel farther than Connecticut for fear of more disappointment. Neil thinks, “if you had a heartful [of sorrow] by the time you reached New London, what new awfulness could you look forward to in Vladivostok?” Neil posits, then, that Leo’s obsession with these two fleeting moments in the past and the sorrow he has experienced since then only inspire pessimism and prevent him from trying to improve his life.
By contrast, characters who try to move away from the past—primarily Brenda’s father, Mr. Patimkin—find happiness more readily in the present. Mr. Patimkin avoids the trap of nostalgia because he is proud of the progress that he has made in his career and with his family. For instance, he recounts how, during his wedding, he ate with forks and knives from the “five and ten” (a store selling inexpensive goods) but says with pride that Ron needs “gold to eat off [of].” Thus, rather than idealizing his former life, he is instead able to appreciate the progress that he has made. Neil also notes as he looks around the Patimkins’ house that there are no pictures of Mr. Patimkin growing up as a poor Jewish child, but there are many photos of his own children’s successes in sports and other life events. His refusal to focus on the poverty from which he came enables him to be happy in the present and optimistic about progress in the future. Neil also recognizes the broader appeal in focusing on progress rather than nostalgia. He thinks about Jews in Newark who had struggled but eventually enabled their children leave the city for more affluent suburbs like Short Hills. Yearning for the past is characteristic of people who do not have hopes for improving their station in the future, but when one is able to appreciate the progress they’ve already made—and anticipate making more progress in the future, like positioning one’s children for future success—it’s easier to avoid the trap of nostalgia.
The novella is inherently rooted in the past, as Neil reflects on the youthful experience of first love from an unspecified future time. While Neil’s narration is sometimes wistful, he also recognizes the difficulties and bittersweet feelings that plagued his relationship with Brenda. It is unclear whether Neil falls victim to the same nostalgic obsession as other characters, or whether he is recounting these events after finding a better future and is looking at his relationship with Brenda not out of nostalgia but to appreciate how far he has come. In this way, Roth does not suggest that evaluating the past is inherently good or bad; rather, it is one’s attitude toward the past that can affect one’s happiness in the present and in the future.
Nostalgia vs. Progress ThemeTracker
Nostalgia vs. Progress Quotes in Goodbye, Columbus
“A week?” she said. “They got room for a week?”
“Aunt Gladys, they don’t live over the store.”
“I lived over a store I wasn’t ashamed. Thank God we always had a roof. We never went begging in the streets,” she told me as I packed the Bermudas I’d just bought, “and your cousin Susan we’ll put through college, Uncle Max should live and be well. We didn’t send her away to camp for August, she doesn’t have shoes when she wants them, sweaters she doesn’t have a drawerful—”
“I didn’t say anything, Aunt Gladys.”
Up on the beach there were beautiful bare-skinned Negresses, and none of them moved; but suddenly we were moving our ship, out of the harbor, and the Negresses moved slowly down to the shore and began to throw leis at us and say “Goodbye, Columbus…goodbye, Columbus…goodbye…” and though we did not want to go, the little boy and I, the boat was moving and there was nothing we could do about it, and he shouted at me that it was my fault and I shouted it was his for not having a library card, but we were wasting our breath, for we here further and further from the island and soon the natives were nothing at all.
“Ronald, get him the silver patterns.” Ron turned away and Mr. Patimkin said, “When I got married we had forks and knives from the five and ten. This kid needs gold to eat off,” but there was no anger; far from it.
There was goose flesh on Ron’s veiny arms as the Voice continued. “We offer ourselves to you then, world, and come at you in search of Life. And to you, Ohio State, to you Columbus, we say thank you, thank you and goodbye. We’ll miss you, in the fall, in the winter, in the spring, but some day we shall return. Till then, goodbye, Ohio State, goodbye, red and white, goodbye, Columbus… goodbye, Columbus…goodbye…”
Ron’s eyes were closed. The band was upending its last truckload of nostalgia and I tiptoed from the room, in step with the 2163 members of the Class of ‘57.
I closed my door, but then opened it and looked back at Ron: he was still humming on his bed.