“Squinting down at Jorgenson’s position, I felt a swell of immense power…It was cruel, I knew that, but right and wrong were somewhere else. I heard myself chuckle. And then presently I came unattached from the natural world. I felt the hinges go…I was the beast on their lips—I was Nam—the horror, the war.”
-The Things They Carried, p 198-199
This passage honestly sounds as though it could have come straight out of Golding’s Lord of the Flies. Up until now, O’Brien has recounted instances where other men had cracked under the reality of war; now he, too, succumbs to the madness. It seems that the night brings out our darkest selves, no? We may live our lives innocently and righteously during the day, but at night, a separate personality often emerges. It is no coincidence that the majority of crimes take place during the night, and the reason is not simply because fewer people are out. In the shadows of the night, we seem to be freer to indulge in our animalistic instincts, especially those of questionable morality.
In O’Brien’s case, the night unleashes all of the revenge and hatred that had brewed within him. In the blackness of the night, he becomes an embodiment of his revenge and lust for violence. Yet as he learns, revenge and violence does not make us feel better. It simply reveals how twisted and savage we truly are.
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