November 11th
It's always a bit odd to observe the various November 11th remembrance day actities in other countries, because we don't have that in Germany; we're remembering on November 9th, a lot of things and for various reasons (it's like the worst and best of German history all happened on that day throughout the 20th century; the end of WWI and the start of the first German republic is just the beginning of that), whereas November 11th is simply when you take out the kids and celebrate St. Martin's Day with lanterns, singing and possibly a goose.
However, re: both WWI in particular and wars in general, what comes to my mind even before any of the poetry are quotes from letters. Heinrich and Thomas Mann in their fierce argument before and throughout WWI (Thomas at that point was as conservative and nationalistic as the majority of the population; Heinrich was one of the few anti-war voices from the start) which is the conflict of the time in the family dimension by two masters of literary expression. And George Bernard Shaw's letter to Stella Campbell, after learning that her son died, in the final year of the war. Their never-quite-consumated affair was long behind them, but here's what he wrote to her on January 7th 1918, and I hear it every time when the news report yet more deaths in various corners of world:
Never saw it nor heard about it until your letter came. It is no use: I cant be sympathetic, these things simply make me furious. I want to swear. I do swear. Killed just because people are blasted fools. A chaplain, too, to say nice things about it. It is not his business to say nice things about it, but to shout that "the voice of thy son's blood crieth unto God from the ground."
No, dont show me the letter. But I should very much like to have a nice talk with that dear Chaplain, that sweet sky-pilot, that...
No use going on like that, Stella. Wait for a week, and then I shall be very clever and broadminded again and have forgotten all about this. I shall be quite as nice as the Chaplain.
Oh damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN.
And oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dearest!
GBS
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/627366.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.
However, re: both WWI in particular and wars in general, what comes to my mind even before any of the poetry are quotes from letters. Heinrich and Thomas Mann in their fierce argument before and throughout WWI (Thomas at that point was as conservative and nationalistic as the majority of the population; Heinrich was one of the few anti-war voices from the start) which is the conflict of the time in the family dimension by two masters of literary expression. And George Bernard Shaw's letter to Stella Campbell, after learning that her son died, in the final year of the war. Their never-quite-consumated affair was long behind them, but here's what he wrote to her on January 7th 1918, and I hear it every time when the news report yet more deaths in various corners of world:
Never saw it nor heard about it until your letter came. It is no use: I cant be sympathetic, these things simply make me furious. I want to swear. I do swear. Killed just because people are blasted fools. A chaplain, too, to say nice things about it. It is not his business to say nice things about it, but to shout that "the voice of thy son's blood crieth unto God from the ground."
No, dont show me the letter. But I should very much like to have a nice talk with that dear Chaplain, that sweet sky-pilot, that...
No use going on like that, Stella. Wait for a week, and then I shall be very clever and broadminded again and have forgotten all about this. I shall be quite as nice as the Chaplain.
Oh damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN.
And oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dearest!
GBS
This entry was originally posted at http://selenak.dreamwidth.org/627366.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.