Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Cultural Work of Memoirs

The Vietnam War: A Separation of Body and Mind

The Vietnam War came at a time in American history when citizens were already divided on issues of race, gender and class. For some, including author and Vietnam veteran Tim O'Brien, the reasons for fighting overseas were unjustified or at least unclear. With the understanding that memoirs are limited interpretations of history, O'Brien's If I Die in a Combat Zone is especially significant in terms its commentary on the idea of separation of mind and body. Combat in Vietnam allowed for soldiers to consider themselves and their existence in the most fundamental way. Minds became prisoner to the body during combat, and after duty was over, the mind helped the body to come to terms with what it had endured. Culturally, it is hard to separate the institution of the military from images of hard bodies and hyper-masculinity. By identifying the separation of mind and body that occurs in combat, O’Brien’s memoir inevitably poses a counter-definition of what it is to actually be a man in the military. In the aftermath of a war consisting of countless casualties and unknown threats, O'Brien's memoir works culturally to attach a face, a mind and a being to what was considered just a body, part of a head count, in the eyes of the U.S. Army.

From the start, O'Brien makes it clear that he was both morally and politically opposed to the Vietnam War. It is a fair enough statement, undoubtedly shared by many of the time period, but his stance takes on a new significance based on the fact that he actually had to go to war, risk his life and take the lives of others. O'Brien talks at length about this moment in his life, saying, "it was an intellectual and physical standoff, and I did not have the energy to see it to an end. I did not want to be a soldier, even an observer of war" (O'Brien, 22). Immediately, his memoir establishes a troublesome dichotomy between his mind and his young, able body.

O'Brien's account of his basic training experience illuminates his begrudging transition from civilian into soldier. He arrives without the intention of making friends, and with intense thoughts of desertion weighing heavily on his mind. However, by the time O'Brien was to leave, not only had he made a close friend, but he had also, somewhat successfully, fulfilled all of his requirements. Part of O'Brien's transition within basic training is largely due to his ability to make a compromise between intellectual and physical concession. Between him and Erik, "our private conversations were the cornerstone of the resistance, perhaps because talking about basic training in careful, honest words was by itself an insult to army education. Simply to think and talk and try to understand was evidence that we were not cattle or machines" (Obrien, 35). In other words, physical trials and demands could be ameliorated as long as he could maintain his intellectual integrity, judgment and sensitivity.

It is not insignificant that O'Brien spends a considerable amount of time discussing the monotony of life in the army. His discussion works to temper the false or glorified grandeur of some war stories. The truth is, he was not always in the line of fire, nor did he ever make any valiant rescues. O’Brien recalls,"...we concentrated on the heat and the fatigue and the simple notions of the march. It went that way for hours. One leg, the next leg. Legs counted the days" (O'Brien, 3). Imagery of feet and legs are described as almost machine-like, propelling O'Brien further and further into the combat zone of a war that he did not believe in. Notice it is not the number of casualties or wounds that is said to count the days, but rather, it is the living, working flesh of his legs that is quantified.

With his dissenting political views previously established, use of bodily imagery becomes even more objectifying. O’Brien describes a particular march, referring to his legs as a “packhorse for the soul” (26). There is no question here that O’Brien made a mental separation between his mind and body. What is more, his use of language and imagery suggests a physical separation of his body. He asserts, “the left leg does it all…stretches with magnificent energy, long muscle. Lumbers ahead. It’s the strongest leg, the pivot” (O’Brien, 26). The verbs “lumber” and “pivot” sound industrial and almost super-human. The recollections make him sound like a bystander to the actions of his own body. He is indeed observing the workings of his body separately from his emotions.

*** I am still grappling with everything that this assignment entails and the use of historical evidence, so I have posted my thesis and paragraphs with textual evidence from O'Brien. More than any other draft that I have ever posted, this is a work in progress: