Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo
Nausea
There were times reading this book that I felt physically ill. There was more than one occasion where I had to put the book down and breathe shallowly so as not to vomit. Probably the worst was when Johnny finally figured out how to communicate and tell the doctors what he wanted, only to be told that it was against regulations. After all the struggle and anguish of becoming human again, which was very real to me as a reader, it was mind-blowing how easily Johnny's humanity was stripped away.
And that I think is the point of the book - war strips away humanity. War can make soldiers inhuman, but the more importantly war can affect the humanity of those whose job it is to be humane, i.e. doctors, nurses, etc. And if war can change doctors for the worse, imagine what it can do to everyone else. It's not as if the doctor or Johnny's first nurse, the one who cradled him against her breast without realizing his attempt to communicate, were actively malevolent. No, they thought they were doing good. But that's because war is a tricky thing. It convinces you that you are working for the common good when you are doing the opposite. The US military does this all the time with soldiers. When you join you have to be broken down and the built back up. At least the military is honest about it. But what about the family who lives in the suburbs. How does war affect them? What happens when they are broken down? When they forget about the weapons of mass destruction? When they start to believe that America needs to make the world safe for democracy through war? What happens to the people who think like this? What happens to you and me?
One other thing about the book affected me. Many of Johnny's memories were sad. But for Johnny they stopped being sad and became sacred. His everyday life became sacred. It became sacred in retrospect. Compared to war, a broken heart was something to be cherished. Compared to mutilation, growing apart from your father was a step to manhood. Compared to having your face blown off, arguments with your best friend became the spice of life. Trumbo definitely forces you to think more deliberately and to live more deliberately. For me, that made this book one of the best I've ever read.
Tuesday, November 1, 2005
Friday, September 23, 2005
Holy Compensatory Religion Batman!!!
The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo
It's difficult to like a book that tells you so many things contrary to what you believe you know. America is a very practical country, not a very dreamy or mysterious one. After all, the philosophy of pragmatism arose here and nowhere else. As children we're taught that hard work is rewarded, and in many cases we're taught that hard work brings happiness. Even if we don't abandon our dreams or our personal legends, we're often forced to modify them in the name of practicality. And to read a book that calls these so-called truths into question in the name of magic, alchemy, or religion can be quite provocative.
No one feels comfortable when called upon to abandon the security and the surety of daily life for the sake of mystery. Not many will even admit to hearing such a call, and quite often such calls are ignored altogether. On the rare occasions when such calls are not ignored, in the best of our pragmatic heritage we often modify the calls to suit our needs or our wants. We tend to follow our dreams in our own unique and inspirational ways. We rarely follow the dream itself, choosing instead the dream insofar as it can be shaped by our immediate needs and wants. But _The Alchemist_ wants us to follow the dream itself, trusting in providence to guide us safely. It's a difficult thing to do, just as liking this book is difficult for a seasoned skeptic like myself.
The story builds to a crescendo as the boy summons the creative forces of the universe itself. We learn that miracles can only be performed by the hand that wrote all. We learn that if we only have enough faith or try hard enough we will discover that our soul and the soul of God are one. We learn that miracles can be performed by alchemists and the pure-at-heart. We learn that it is possible to communicate with God through prayer and love.
And we learn that we too can be financially rewarded by following our dreams and having faith.
What a letdown!
Aside from being a bit trite, I thought the book was okay until the end when it became the prequel to _The Prayer of Jabez_. It almost sounded like a late-night get-rich-quick commercial. And it had such promise, too. After all the amazing things that happen to the boy I was surprised, and a bit frustrated, when the book ended with a chest of gold. (The promise of love part I rather liked...because I'm a romantic. Plus, isn't it every man's dream to have a woman who will wait for him to fulfill his destiny before coming back to her? Ha! I'm also a realist.) What better way to celebrate mystery than to become one with the forces of nature. What better way to ruin it than with pillaged treasure. Still though, it would be amazing to see the pyramids.
It's difficult to like a book that tells you so many things contrary to what you believe you know. America is a very practical country, not a very dreamy or mysterious one. After all, the philosophy of pragmatism arose here and nowhere else. As children we're taught that hard work is rewarded, and in many cases we're taught that hard work brings happiness. Even if we don't abandon our dreams or our personal legends, we're often forced to modify them in the name of practicality. And to read a book that calls these so-called truths into question in the name of magic, alchemy, or religion can be quite provocative.
No one feels comfortable when called upon to abandon the security and the surety of daily life for the sake of mystery. Not many will even admit to hearing such a call, and quite often such calls are ignored altogether. On the rare occasions when such calls are not ignored, in the best of our pragmatic heritage we often modify the calls to suit our needs or our wants. We tend to follow our dreams in our own unique and inspirational ways. We rarely follow the dream itself, choosing instead the dream insofar as it can be shaped by our immediate needs and wants. But _The Alchemist_ wants us to follow the dream itself, trusting in providence to guide us safely. It's a difficult thing to do, just as liking this book is difficult for a seasoned skeptic like myself.
The story builds to a crescendo as the boy summons the creative forces of the universe itself. We learn that miracles can only be performed by the hand that wrote all. We learn that if we only have enough faith or try hard enough we will discover that our soul and the soul of God are one. We learn that miracles can be performed by alchemists and the pure-at-heart. We learn that it is possible to communicate with God through prayer and love.
And we learn that we too can be financially rewarded by following our dreams and having faith.
What a letdown!
Aside from being a bit trite, I thought the book was okay until the end when it became the prequel to _The Prayer of Jabez_. It almost sounded like a late-night get-rich-quick commercial. And it had such promise, too. After all the amazing things that happen to the boy I was surprised, and a bit frustrated, when the book ended with a chest of gold. (The promise of love part I rather liked...because I'm a romantic. Plus, isn't it every man's dream to have a woman who will wait for him to fulfill his destiny before coming back to her? Ha! I'm also a realist.) What better way to celebrate mystery than to become one with the forces of nature. What better way to ruin it than with pillaged treasure. Still though, it would be amazing to see the pyramids.
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