Jarhead I, The Anatomy of Peace I, Why Nations Go to War I
I'm finally getting to the point where I am re-interested. It's strange the cycles my reading takes. No, I haven't finished either of the books I mentioned last time.
I have begun Jarhead, by Anthony Swafford. As can be determined from the title, it's a war book about Marines, sort of in the style of The Things They Carried, minus the bits on writing.
It's funny, reading, because I have the same reactions to all war books, except they become more and more clear, and less foreign to me each time. What this particular reaction to these books are. This particular book is especially interesting because as I read, I recognize perfectly well a lot of the terminology, the specific events of the Corps, having "watched" jr_hunter go through. Not just the specific events and terms, but even some of the psychological elements.
Here's what is strange, though. A lot of the things mentioned do seem incongruous to what Hunter says. And it's hard for me to determine if it's the Corps, or what Hunter tells me, or just how Hunter views the Corps. Part of this actually makes sense, because a lot of the violence has been, to my knowledge, cut from the Corps. From what I've gathered, drill sargeants are generally not allowed to do such things as slam a recruit's head through a chalkboard anymore. (Technically, judging from the books, the rules were in place then, but not strongly enforced. It was moreso a "Don't let the big guy see" kind of deal.) As well, a lot of the hazing, which the Marines were notorious for, even in films, I have never heard wind of at least from Hunter (which I can see why he might not even want to tell me if it did occur), but I've never heard of things occuring like the communal mock-butt rapes of guys.
Still, it's funny how I relate to the books, because it's not just intellectually through Hunter, but I can agree, at least with parts of the soldier mindset as presented. For instance:
There is talk that the Vietnam films are anti-war, that the message is war is inhumane and look what happens when you train young American men to fight and kill, they turn to fighting and killing everywhere, they ignore their targets and desecrate the entire country, shooting fully automatic, forgetting they were trained to aim. But actually Vietnam films are all pro-war, no matter what the supposed message, what Kubrick or Coppola or Stone intended. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson in Omaha or San Fransisco or Manhattan will watch the films and weep and decide once and for all that war is inhumane and terrible, and they will tell their friends at church and their family this, but (...) Lance Corporal Swofford at Twentynine Palms Marine Corps Base watch the same films and are excited by them, because the magic brutality of the films celebrates the terrible and despicable beauty of their fighting skills. Fight, rape, pillage, burn. Filmic images of death and carnage are pornography for the military man; with film you are stroking his cock, tickling his balls with the pink feather of history, getting him ready for his real First Fuck. It doesn't matter how many Mr. and Mrs. Johnsons are antiwar - the actual killers who know how to use the weapons are not.
The deal with that is that I feel the same way. I watch the films and part of myself really likes that, gets that same, perhaps sick sort of excitement. The problem is, I know it is forever frustrated, and mostly because I won't allow myself to give in to that desire. Mostly out of fear, and because I know that really, for that to be REAL, a true image and act, is something people can't even begin to describe.
To continue on about that, even though I find war novels interesting, it's not really because the words themselves. There are really two sorts, the psychological melodramas, and the gritty novels, where all the explicits are left in, all the shit and fuck and cock and dick all left there, because that is how it is, those are the words, and they try to be truthful, real, but still remain unbearably neutral. However, all the novels are still missing something. It seems as if, like they say, no war writer can ever seem to simply tell the truth. And I don't think this is intentional, I do believe it is because they themselves do not understand. All they can show is the grit, or the bittersweet sickness of duality. And still, both somehow miss the mark. It's like they're tracing circles (though some are closer than the others) around "it". And I don't think it's the fault of the writers, I honestly feel that "it" can't be told, and I don't believe I will never understand because I will never be in war, and then I might not understand and if I did, I don't pretend to be the one person on the planet who would be capable of putting it into words. I would say it probably has something to do with the very imperfections of humanity constantly staring you into face, being a person, fighting in wars, which is considered by some to be the worst visible sign of fucked up humanity and pure instinct. Authors take two approaches, the neutral acceptance and presentation because they feel they can't feel, or feel it's okay, or the "loss of innocence" which analyzes, remembers, but is still forced into the very same thing.
Jarhead is definitely the first of the two. If anything, Swofford seems like the more "typical" Marine, the kind of Marines that I hear surrounding Hunter. Sex, instincts, etc. In a way, in my biased, patronizing opinion, I find it amazing that he writes so well, and yet was that type. It makes me wonder if he gained the insighs and skill at analysis after the war, or if he played the role of the "typical Marine" well while he was in, or if really you can be both. (As a note: I tend to divide Marines into two classes. Most would be the "typical". Yeah, they're a pretty brutish bunch. Very "manly" men, stupid good times. The kind of guys people think of when they say, "one of the boys" and the kind girls complain about. Then there's another kind, the idealistic sort that actually believe in the values of the Corps. Both are a bit crazy in their own rights, neither in a necessarily bad way.)
Another thought I'm pondering on: War novels also always seem, at least a little, to have a bit of self-glorification in them, even the gritty ones (sometimes especially). I'm wondering if this is a result of training (enforced belief), regular belief, or a sort of defensive mechanism against realizing things that the writer might view as bad.
I'm also reading The Anatomy of Peace which gives several great bits of food for thought, and reaffirms something I was discovering myself, that nations are the springing ground for wars, according to the writer. As well, I learned about rules actually helping to create and maintain the greatest amount of freedom (which I use in a paper in English). I'm still reading about the shortcomings of other national systems, but I have yet to read what he proposes to fix it, if anything.
And finally, I'm borrowing Mr Fogle's copy of Why Nations Go to War, which is more of a psychological review of characters than idealistic visions. But in a way it's refreshing, and the stories are fairly interesting, but the way it is summed up is highly amazing and interesting at the end of each chapter. It makes the book worth reading. I can't wait for the day when I can make it connect to more things, the lessons to be learned, and really use it as more of a tool, giving me new insight, because right now, it's just an "interesting" book.
I have begun Jarhead, by Anthony Swafford. As can be determined from the title, it's a war book about Marines, sort of in the style of The Things They Carried, minus the bits on writing.
It's funny, reading, because I have the same reactions to all war books, except they become more and more clear, and less foreign to me each time. What this particular reaction to these books are. This particular book is especially interesting because as I read, I recognize perfectly well a lot of the terminology, the specific events of the Corps, having "watched" jr_hunter go through. Not just the specific events and terms, but even some of the psychological elements.
Here's what is strange, though. A lot of the things mentioned do seem incongruous to what Hunter says. And it's hard for me to determine if it's the Corps, or what Hunter tells me, or just how Hunter views the Corps. Part of this actually makes sense, because a lot of the violence has been, to my knowledge, cut from the Corps. From what I've gathered, drill sargeants are generally not allowed to do such things as slam a recruit's head through a chalkboard anymore. (Technically, judging from the books, the rules were in place then, but not strongly enforced. It was moreso a "Don't let the big guy see" kind of deal.) As well, a lot of the hazing, which the Marines were notorious for, even in films, I have never heard wind of at least from Hunter (which I can see why he might not even want to tell me if it did occur), but I've never heard of things occuring like the communal mock-butt rapes of guys.
Still, it's funny how I relate to the books, because it's not just intellectually through Hunter, but I can agree, at least with parts of the soldier mindset as presented. For instance:
There is talk that the Vietnam films are anti-war, that the message is war is inhumane and look what happens when you train young American men to fight and kill, they turn to fighting and killing everywhere, they ignore their targets and desecrate the entire country, shooting fully automatic, forgetting they were trained to aim. But actually Vietnam films are all pro-war, no matter what the supposed message, what Kubrick or Coppola or Stone intended. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson in Omaha or San Fransisco or Manhattan will watch the films and weep and decide once and for all that war is inhumane and terrible, and they will tell their friends at church and their family this, but (...) Lance Corporal Swofford at Twentynine Palms Marine Corps Base watch the same films and are excited by them, because the magic brutality of the films celebrates the terrible and despicable beauty of their fighting skills. Fight, rape, pillage, burn. Filmic images of death and carnage are pornography for the military man; with film you are stroking his cock, tickling his balls with the pink feather of history, getting him ready for his real First Fuck. It doesn't matter how many Mr. and Mrs. Johnsons are antiwar - the actual killers who know how to use the weapons are not.
The deal with that is that I feel the same way. I watch the films and part of myself really likes that, gets that same, perhaps sick sort of excitement. The problem is, I know it is forever frustrated, and mostly because I won't allow myself to give in to that desire. Mostly out of fear, and because I know that really, for that to be REAL, a true image and act, is something people can't even begin to describe.
To continue on about that, even though I find war novels interesting, it's not really because the words themselves. There are really two sorts, the psychological melodramas, and the gritty novels, where all the explicits are left in, all the shit and fuck and cock and dick all left there, because that is how it is, those are the words, and they try to be truthful, real, but still remain unbearably neutral. However, all the novels are still missing something. It seems as if, like they say, no war writer can ever seem to simply tell the truth. And I don't think this is intentional, I do believe it is because they themselves do not understand. All they can show is the grit, or the bittersweet sickness of duality. And still, both somehow miss the mark. It's like they're tracing circles (though some are closer than the others) around "it". And I don't think it's the fault of the writers, I honestly feel that "it" can't be told, and I don't believe I will never understand because I will never be in war, and then I might not understand and if I did, I don't pretend to be the one person on the planet who would be capable of putting it into words. I would say it probably has something to do with the very imperfections of humanity constantly staring you into face, being a person, fighting in wars, which is considered by some to be the worst visible sign of fucked up humanity and pure instinct. Authors take two approaches, the neutral acceptance and presentation because they feel they can't feel, or feel it's okay, or the "loss of innocence" which analyzes, remembers, but is still forced into the very same thing.
Jarhead is definitely the first of the two. If anything, Swofford seems like the more "typical" Marine, the kind of Marines that I hear surrounding Hunter. Sex, instincts, etc. In a way, in my biased, patronizing opinion, I find it amazing that he writes so well, and yet was that type. It makes me wonder if he gained the insighs and skill at analysis after the war, or if he played the role of the "typical Marine" well while he was in, or if really you can be both. (As a note: I tend to divide Marines into two classes. Most would be the "typical". Yeah, they're a pretty brutish bunch. Very "manly" men, stupid good times. The kind of guys people think of when they say, "one of the boys" and the kind girls complain about. Then there's another kind, the idealistic sort that actually believe in the values of the Corps. Both are a bit crazy in their own rights, neither in a necessarily bad way.)
Another thought I'm pondering on: War novels also always seem, at least a little, to have a bit of self-glorification in them, even the gritty ones (sometimes especially). I'm wondering if this is a result of training (enforced belief), regular belief, or a sort of defensive mechanism against realizing things that the writer might view as bad.
I'm also reading The Anatomy of Peace which gives several great bits of food for thought, and reaffirms something I was discovering myself, that nations are the springing ground for wars, according to the writer. As well, I learned about rules actually helping to create and maintain the greatest amount of freedom (which I use in a paper in English). I'm still reading about the shortcomings of other national systems, but I have yet to read what he proposes to fix it, if anything.
And finally, I'm borrowing Mr Fogle's copy of Why Nations Go to War, which is more of a psychological review of characters than idealistic visions. But in a way it's refreshing, and the stories are fairly interesting, but the way it is summed up is highly amazing and interesting at the end of each chapter. It makes the book worth reading. I can't wait for the day when I can make it connect to more things, the lessons to be learned, and really use it as more of a tool, giving me new insight, because right now, it's just an "interesting" book.