Marinating in Communist Ideology: Trotsky's Pure Form
Lee Oswald's radicalization in DeLillo's Libra begins not with political fury towards society, but rather from personal emptiness. In capitalist America, Lee feels invisible: due to his upbringing, he feels like a "zero in the system" (40). For Lee, his ideology is a therapeutic cure for his own troubled life---he willingly adopts the title "communist" to transform his painful isolation into a noble, ideological struggle that mirrors Leon Trotsky's life. In this sense, he sees himself as some martyr for communism, whose struggle and suffering is necessary for a greater cause.
From his school library, Lee repeatedly checks out Marxist books. He enjoys seeing "[the] silly faces [of his classmates] crinkle up" as they read the title of his books; Lee explains that "[he] was the product of a sweeping history, he and his mother, locked into a process, a system of money and property that diminished their human worth every day, as if by scientific law ... The books made him part of something" (41). In fact, he idolizes the radical thinkers: by reading the books, he sees himself as part of a cohort of "men ... struggling with secret and feverish ideas ... they would talk theory into the night ... but they would act as well" (41). From a young age, he believes that the capitalist system in which he was brought up has led to his current state.
From his school library, Lee repeatedly checks out Marxist books. He enjoys seeing "[the] silly faces [of his classmates] crinkle up" as they read the title of his books; Lee explains that "[he] was the product of a sweeping history, he and his mother, locked into a process, a system of money and property that diminished their human worth every day, as if by scientific law ... The books made him part of something" (41). In fact, he idolizes the radical thinkers: by reading the books, he sees himself as part of a cohort of "men ... struggling with secret and feverish ideas ... they would talk theory into the night ... but they would act as well" (41). From a young age, he believes that the capitalist system in which he was brought up has led to his current state.
Yet, his belief in communism is not entirely serious: Lee displays a certain performative behavior, finding joy in his classmates' reactions to his radical books. He romanticizes communism, particularly how "anti-system" it is. Further, he relishes in the idea that he is unlike his peers. "He wanted books more advanced than the school texts ... that put him at a distance from his classmates ... they had their civics and home economics ... he wanted subjects and ideas of historic scope" (33). DeLillo depicts Lee's childhood as a period in which he desired to differentiate and isolate himself from others; Lee enjoys the solitude that being a "lone genius" brings him.
Later during his life, he rebrands himself as a sort of spiritual avatar of Leon Trotsky. As an exile, intellectual, and loner, Lee resonated with Trotsky's writings. In the cell, Lee remarks that he "could see how he'd been headed here since the day he was born" (100). As a political martyr, it only makes sense that Lee would be imprisoned for his ideas: after all, all great thinkers and revolutionaries are imprisoned. He then reminisces on the face that Trotsky was here "in the Bronx, only blocks away" and how "revolution leads us out of the dark night of the isolated self" (101). Interestingly, he sees his isolation as part of a larger process that will ultimately salvage him (and possibly society). His solitary self-sacrifice is part of his destiny; through his imprisonment and revolutionary actions, he will fulfill his mission and become happy again.
As the novel progresses, we can see Lee increasingly project himself onto Trotsky: for one, he names himself "Leon"--after Leon Trotsky--and joins an armed band. In New Orleans, after he agrees to serve as an informant for Bateman, he thinks about Trotsky. As Lee, deep in thought, trails behind a woman, she waves his hand at him, urging him to pass; completely disregarding her, he remarks that "Trotsky is the pure form" (312). He projects his family into Trotsky's, dreaming of his idol: "Trotsky brushing roaches off the page, reading economic theory in a hovel in eastern Siberia, exiled with his wife and baby girl" (312). It's clear that Lee sees himself as a modern-day Trotsky, exiled and alone yet intellectual.
Lee, coming from his upbringing, confuses his personal therapy with political action via Trotsky. Ultimately, his weakness is exploited by various people: his attempts to "merge" with history to cure his loneliness fail, and he becomes a tool.
We maybe see Lee (the fictional version, imagined by DeLillo) thinking of himself as having reached this "pure form" when he is in his cell in Dallas, imagining a future where he flourishes as the most infamous assassin and political theorist in America, with journalists, historians, psychologists, and indeed Marxist theorists flocking to his cell to speak with him about his ideas and experiences. The most impressive part of his story, to me, is the portrait of a young kid with a slipshod education and literacy challenges forcing himself to work through Marx in order to better understand and analyze the conditions that have shaped him and his mother's experience in America. If he hadn't gone on to be an assassin and murderer, I don't know that we'd be so critical of him in these sections. And the recurring metaphor of "the scales" seems to apply in this instance, too: Lee is "tilted" toward political violence (first George, then Ferrie and Mackie), but with a slightly different nudge, he might have pursued his studies and become an intellectual. Or a marginal crackpot raconteur, to compete with General Walker from the other side of the spectrum. The violence seems in no way inevitable, and indeed it's possible to view Oswald as a person who was "tilted" in this way by various influences. DeLillo imagines him as imagining himself as being given a second chance with his imprisonment--this time, full Trotsky!
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