Showing posts with label War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label War. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

A Not So Fiery Rhetoric (Rhetoric)

“The book fascinated him, or more exactly it reassured him. In a sense it told him nothing that was new, but that was part of the attraction. It said what he would have said, if it had been possible for him to set his scattered thoughts in order. It was the product of a mind similar to his own, but enormously more powerful, more systematic, less fear-ridden.”

-p 200

In his 1984, Orwell uses a rather unique technique to express a large part of his philosophy. Instead of having his protagonist Winston express his political views, Orwell includes passages from a secret book by Emmanuel Goldstein. In his writing, Goldstein tells of the main principles behind Oceania’s adoption of Ingsoc. Goldstein reasons that the Party developed as a result of growing fears about atomic warfare. According to Orwell, the nations of the world soon realized the potential stability from continuous yet controlled warfare, which uses up nations’ supplies, limits excess wealth available to all economic classes, and therefore ensures that the middle and lower classes do not rebel against the upper class.

Based on Winston’s reaction to the book, it seems that Goldstein’s writing is a perfect example of rhetoric. It is through this rhetoric that Orwell attempts to persuade the reader to think as he thinks. He has already convinced the reader that the society which he has created is completely undesirable. The reader has long come to the conclusion that whatever Orwell states caused this world to occur must be avoided at all costs. It is not until Goldstein’s rhetoric, however, that the reader finally discovers the cause of this dystopia: atomic warfare of the 1940s has ravaged the world. Considering Orwell wrote this novel in the 1940s, it is clear that Orwell is employing this rhetoric to attempt to convince his readers of the danger of atomic warfare and adjusted moralities.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Death, Part II--As If One Wasn't Enough (Understatement)

“Death sucks.”

-The Things They Carried
, p 230


Why yes, it does. This one two-word sentence is quite possibly the biggest understatement I have personally heard. Yet this is what the entire novel has been about. O’Brien does not trifle himself with grandiose or gruesome images of war, nor does he disregard the severity and brutality of battle. He simply yet powerfully describes war as he has experienced it, nothing more and nothing less. By doing so, though, O’Brien accomplishes his goal more successfully than many writers who attempt to write about war. The reader can sense the truth in his words. Even when the phrases are short and the accounts terse, the power of his writing remains.

In many ways, Vietnam cannot be described in grandiose terms; it simply was not a glorious war. A war of such vapidity should be described in a straightforward manner. That is what makes O’Brien’s writing so effective. This honest, abrupt style of writing in which the author can simply say, “Death sucks,” and actually have it carry immense weight and power, embodies the mood of the Vietnam War itself.

A Less Attractive Death (Anecdote)

“We sat quietly for a time. There was no need to talk, because we were thinking the same things: about Morty Phillips and the way luck worked and didn’t work and how it was impossible to calculate the odds. There were a million ways to die.”

-The Things They Carried
, p 187


In reality, The Things They Carried is essentially a compilation of anecdotes. The anecdote about Morty Phillips is a prime example of the basic style of the entire novel. Like the other anecdotes, the tale carries a conversational air, as if O’Brien is talking directly to the reader. Yet the story discusses events that seldom would appear in any normal conversation. In describing Morty’s bizarre death, O’Brien simply emphasizes once more a harsh reality of the Vietnam War: death could come in countless ways. People often view death in combat as the only way that soldiers can actually die in a war. Yet in many cases, the deaths caused by other circumstances make up a substantial portion of overall war casualties. O’Brien utilizes this anecdote to illustrate how dangerous war in general is—not just the battles, but life within the war.

Getting By

“ ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Those dumb jokes—I didn’t mean anything.’
“ ‘We all say things.’
“ ‘Yeah, but when I saw the guy, it made me feel—I don’t know—like he was listening.’
“ ‘He wasn’t.’
“ ‘I guess not. But I felt sort of guilty almost, like if I’d kept my mouth shut none of it would’ve ever happened. Like it was my fault.’
“Norman Bowker looked out across the wet field. ‘Nobody’s fault,’ he said. ‘Everybody’s.’ ”

-The Things They Carried
, p 168



It is interesting to observe the different coping mechanisms that each member of Alpha Company utilizes when faced with harsh realities of war. Some, such as Lt. Cross, feel immense guilt and resolve to become tougher to the cruelties of battle. Some, such as Rat Kiley, release their emotions violently and cathartically. Some, such as Henry Dobbins and Norman Bowker, keep their emotions within—in the case of Bowker, too much within.

Still others, such as Azar, employ perhaps the strangest coping mechanism: they turn traumatic experiences into humor. Instead of displaying grief and bitterness, Azar simply laughs and jokes death off. While most of the company view Azar as cold and unemotional because of this, in truth Azar could be viewed as the most affected by these events. He is so affected that is unable to bear it and is driven to create distractions through humor. Yet even Azar reaches a point where his humor is unable to distract him from the terror of war. In the end, few can escape the trauma of war.

No Hope

“Eight months later he hanged himself. In August of 1978 his mother sent me a brief note explaining what had happened…He used a jump rope; his friends found him hanging from a water pipe. There was no suicide note, no message of any kind. ‘Norman was a quiet boy,’ his mother wrote, ‘and I don’t suppose he wanted to bother anybody.’ ”

-The Things They Carried
, p 154


It is a terrible tragedy that those who suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) are only now receiving substantial attention and diagnosis. For hundreds, even thousands, of years, soldiers would return home from war and be expected to move on from the bloodletting with grace and ease. If men were affected by the war, they were simply labeled cowards and were shunned, punished, and often even killed for their cowardice. Human emotion and normal response to senseless bloodshed, it seemed, were crimes punishable by death.

Even in recent times, the prevalent expectation of soldiers when they return home is to keep discussion of the war at a minimum and simply return to normal life as if they had never experienced the brutality of war. It has only been recently that soldiers are being examined for symptoms of PTSD, and even those who are medically diagnosed with the disorder often are forced to engage in legal battle with the military and government in order to receive pension for disabilities. Yet if PTSD is terrible enough to cause depression, violence, and even suicide, then why is the military not in the forefront of those researching and treating this disorder? If people really want soldiers to return home comfortably, the government must either further research PTSD or cease to send soldiers into such traumatic circumstances.

A Cycle of Despair (Motif)

“On his tenth turn around the lake he passed the hiking boys for the last time. The man in the stalled motorboat was gone; the mud hens were gone…The band shell was deserted…On his eleventh revolution he switched off the air-conditioning, opened up his window, and rested his elbow comfortably on the sill, driving with one hand. There was nothing to say.”

-The Things They Carried
, p 146-147


In this chapter, O’Brien utilizes the image of Norman Bowker’s driving repeatedly around the lake as a motif throughout the tale. As O’Brien gradually reveals Bowker’s memory of Kiowa’s death, he weaves in the idea of Bowker driving along the town lake over and over again, disconnectedly observing the lives of the townspeople. After the war ends, Bowker returns home from Vietnam; yet in reality, Bowker has lost his home. The years have gone by, and the town has moved on without him. The war has affected him so that he is unable to share his experiences and emotions with others. Isolated in a town that does not understand his plight and simply does not care, Bowker is stuck in a rut, going in circles with no end in sight.

This circular motion is captured in the motif of Bowker driving around the lake. Even when he attempts to escape the circle by stopping at the town’s A&W, he is socially despondent and is unable and unwilling to open up to others. He returns to his circle around the lake, back into his cycle of withheld emotions and tortured reclusion. Just as the lake is constantly before Bowker, so are his memories constantly gnawing at Bowker, leaving him entrapped in a cycle of guilt and shame.

A Load to Bear

“This is why I keep writing war stories: He was a short, slender young man of about twenty. I was afraid of him—afraid of something—and as he passed me on the trail I threw a grenade that exploded at his feet and killed him.”

-The Things They Carried
, p 125



Well, this passage certainly produces ethos to the max, eh? In these two chapters (12-13), O’Brien unloads a tremendous emotional burden. There a couple ways by which he confesses to the reader his actions in an almost cathartic manner. In the first chapter, he repeats gruesome details about the corpse nearly to the point of exhaustion. His repetition indicates that he clearly is still affected by the memory to this day.

In between these details, though, O’Brien does something that is remarkably haunting. He vividly describes the young man’s appearance and goes on to meticulously describe an imagined life for this man. Truthfully, O’Brien describes this man more vividly and personally than he does any of his comrades. By giving this corpse a life full of emotions, of love and fear and duty, he humanizes this young man more than the Americans. By the time O’Brien actually describes the man’s death in the second chapter, the reader almost sympathizes more with the man than with Alpha Company. O’Brien unloads his guilt and shame on the ready, and, by doing so, shares it with us all.

Whether Pink or Blue, They All Bleed Red

“At times, in fact, she seemed fascinated by it. Not the gore so much, but the adrenaline buzz that went with the job…In times of action her face took on a sudden new composure, almost serene…A different person, it seemed, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.”

-The Things They Carried
, p 93-94



Isn’t it nice to know that war traumatizes and alters women, too? This passage accurately reflects the societal views which still hindered women in the sixties and seventies. Yet it points out that war does not discriminate. It does not lessen the brutality which women experience. Nor do women respond to war differently than men do. The true difference is the expected reaction to war. Mary Anne, however, is proof that this expectation is grossly inaccurate. Women are brutalized and transformed by war in the same way as men. If countries want to protect women from the savagery of war, they should not discriminate and bar women from fighting in the front lines. They should simply cease war altogether.

Holding Out for a Hero? (Antihero)

“I passed through towns with familiar names, through the pine forests and down to the prairie, and then to Vietnam, where I was a soldier, and then home again. I survived, but it’s not a happy ending. I was a coward. I went to the war.”

-The Things They Carried
, p 58



When one imagines a literary war hero, one can imagine a few different types of heroes. There is the valiant hero, the brawny, honorable soldier who vanquishes the Nazis singlehandedly while sparing a town of women and old people. There is the righteous hero, the upright, moralistic pacifist who refuses to kowtow to bloodthirsty minds and instead convinces others not to engage in battle as well. There is even the fallen hero, the simple, innocent participant who succumbs to bloodlust and transforms into a savage monster in the face of war.

O’Brien is none of these. He is not a man who saves the United States from a horrible war. He is not able to stand by his morals and escape violence. He is not changed into a serial killer who slaughters puppies for fun. No, O’Brien is simply an average man: not courageous enough to make a large impact on the war, nor brave enough to hold to his ideals. He is, in significant ways, a war antihero. Yet by admitting this, O’Brien points out a revealing truth about Vietnam: few of the soldiers were, in fact, heroes. They were average men, thrust into a savage war for which none were ready. Vietnam was, in truth, a war of antiheroes.

A Change in Perception (Point of View)

“Forty-three years old, and the war occurred half a lifetime ago, and yet the remembering makes it now. And sometimes remembering will lead to a story, which makes it forever. That’s what stories are for.”

-The Things They Carried, p 36



One noteworthy point which I forgot to discuss earlier was O’Brien’s switch to the first person point of view. The first chapter was entirely in third person, giving the chapter an impersonal touch. This was supported by the author’s decision not to use quotation marks to indicate dialogue. By doing this, O’Brien deliberately stripped the writing even more of any character, giving war a cold and disconnected feel.

After the first chapter, however, O’Brien does a complete volte face, now writing in first person and revealing that he also was a member of the company. By changing the point of view, O’Brien shifts the style of the book from simple historical fiction to a much deeper anecdotal reflection on a war which he experienced. He further expands this by now utilizing quotation marks, giving life and personality to his comrades. By establishing his ethos, O’Brien also explains why he is writing this tale: to preserve his experiences so that future generations may learn from them.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Peace amid War (Juxtaposition)

“I remember Norman Bowker and Henry Dobbins playing checkers every evening before dark. There was something restful about it, something orderly and reassuring…You knew where you stood. You knew the score. The pieces were out on the board, the enemy was visible, you could watch the tactics unfolding into larger strategies. There was a winner and a loser. There were rules.”

-The Things They Carried, p 31


This passage struck me for its contrast with the passages around it. Before and after this anecdote, O’Brien recounts terrible instances of the war and its consequences. He writes of Mitchell Sanders mailing lice to his draft board in cold retaliation. He describes Ted Lavender’s desperate addiction to tranquilizers as a coping mechanism. He writes of witnessing the horrific deaths of his friends and comrades. Yet in the middle of this, he includes an account of two friends peacefully playing checkers each night. He juxtaposes these disparate ideas even further by pointing out the differences between a game and the war. In doing so, O’Brien emphasizes even morsel the brutality of the Vietnam War, where you didn’t know “where you stood,” there was no “winner and a loser,” and there were no “rules.”

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The Animal Within

They plodded along slowly, dumbly, leaning forward against the heat, unthinking, all blood and bone, simple grunts…no volition, no will, because it was automatic, it was anatomy, and the war was entirely a matter of posture and carriage…a dullness of desire and intellect and conscience and hope and human sensibility. Their principles were in their feet.

-The Things They Carried,
p 14


As I read this passage, it struck me how mindless and animalistic the soldiers seem. O’Brien describes them having a “dullness” about them, even a dullness of “human sensibility.” With descriptions like these, the company does not seem to be fully human. Yes, they may appear to be human; their “anatomy” is completely normal. Yet psychologically, they were anything but human. Slowly but surely, they begin to lose their sense of who they are. They begin to lose human emotion and replace it with simple, physical motion. As they march on, they lose their “conscience and hope.” They lose themselves.

Love and War (Stream of Consciousness)

In his wallet, Lieutenant Cross carried two photographs of Martha. The first was a Kodacolor snapshot signed Love, though he knew better…At night,sometimes, Lieutenant Cross wondered who had taken the picture, because he knew she had boyfriends, because he loved her so much, and because he could see the shadow of the picture-taker spreading out against the brick wall…He would always remember the feel of the tweed skirt and the knee beneath it…He remembered kissing her good night at the dorm door. Right then, he thought, he should’ve done something brave. He should’ve carried her up the stairs to her room and tied her to the bed and touched that left knee all night long. He should’ve risked it. Whenever he looked at the photographs, he thought of new things he should’ve done.


-The Things They Carried, p 3-4

The above passage is the second time that O’Brien follows Lieutenant Jimmy Cross’ stream of consciousness in the chapter. O’Brien alternates between Lt. Cross’ thoughts and matter-of-fact, objective descriptions of “the things they carried,” in which he also includes several references to Ted Lavender’s death without actually describing the event. Lt. Cross’ thoughts are explored in order to contrast between the facts and statistics of the Vietnam War, which too often are the only details the people know of the war, and the actual experiences and memories of those who fought in the war. While the reader is kept well-informed of the neutral and detached facts, he is at the same time given access to the facts that truly matter to the author: the lives of the men who fought.

At first, O’Brien keeps the two disparate ideas separate, dividing the objective from the subjective. After a few pages, however, O’Brien merges the two, beginning with an objective account on page 8, and then continuing into a description of events within Lt. Cross’ company. Fusing the two ideas together, he overlays Lt. Cross’ stream of consciousness onto the tangible facts of the war, culminating in a depiction of Ted Lavender’s death, which had been hinted at from the beginning. With this transition, O’Brien sets a tone for The Things They Carried, a matter-of-fact, yet emotionally-charged tone. Lt. Cross’ stream of consciousness preludes the reflections and emotions which will likely follow within the novel.