Groping America V. 1 Riding With The Train Gang Ra Locke Page

Watching it today, the film is undeniably problematic. The title alone tells you everything you need to know about the consent dynamics portrayed. However, looking at it through the lens of film history, Groping America is a fascinating study in "Cinema of Transgression." It pushes boundaries of taste specifically because it knows it isn't supposed to.

– The author’s pseudonym. “Ra” evokes the Egyptian sun god, suggesting enlightenment or divine judgment. “Locke” recalls John Locke, the philosopher of personal identity and consciousness. Together, the name implies a narrator who is both godlike (watching everything) and deeply fragmented (locked into a single perspective). No photograph of Ra Locke exists. Some believe “Ra Locke” is a collective pseudonym for a group of ex-convicts; others argue it’s a single woman writing under a male-sounding name to avoid harassment. Groping America V. 1 Riding With The Train Gang Ra Locke

In the dusty, often disreputable archives of American exploitation cinema, there are titles that scream for attention, and then there are titles that whisper of a specific, gritty era of filmmaking. Groping America V. 1: Riding With The Train Gang , directed by the enigmatic Ra Locke, is firmly in the former category. Watching it today, the film is undeniably problematic

This article attempts the first serious literary exegesis of a work that may or may not exist—and in doing so, examines why the very idea of Groping America forces us to confront the ugliest and most compelling impulses of American street literature. – The author’s pseudonym

This title refers to a specific entry within a niche subgenre of adult erotic literature and underground pulp fiction. To understand the context behind "Groping America V. 1 Riding With The Train Gang" by Ra Locke, one must look at the era of mass-market "sleaze" paperbacks and the evolution of transgressive fiction. The Author: Ra Locke

If you need tidy resolutions or heroic drifters, look elsewhere. This is for readers who loved You Can’t Win by Jack Black (the outlaw, not the actor), or the gritty realism of The Road without the apocalypse. It’s for anyone who has ever looked out a train window and wondered what happens in the weeds just beyond the track.

"Meet me in Tulsa," the note had read. "Come alone."