#PLEASE go ahead & add ur own thoughts anon if u'd like (either through an ask or rb) literally anything about this drives me insane

[xx0yeet-everything0xx]

please please say things about “speaking of courage”. it was my favorite chapter in the novel, and

hi anon ABSOLUTELY this was my favourite too. we singled out this short story for my lit class, actually, and it's the reason i ended up reading tttc by myself. (which also means might've taken this ask as a reason to, like, almost analyse it... i'm so sorry.) i had that entire chapter annotated it but lost the print-out :/ BUT i still remember everything i need to. lol.

keeping this under the cut because it got too long lmao:

so. speaking of courage is objectively a fucking masterpiece. to me, it's about exactly what the real norman bowker expressed in his letter for o'brien: that sense of sudden lack of purpose. like, okay. the war's over. we survived. what's next? this? where do we go now? where do we go?

so, norman bowker goes in circles. the circle thing is pretty fantastically done. the story, the structure—it brings you back, and then away, and then all of that just to bring you back again. and then it happens, again, slightly different but it's really just the same.

it's a pleasant day. the lake is in the center of everything. there's nowhere to go and norman bowker is driving. in another world he would've been able to say this or that or would've had someone listen to this or understand that. norman bowker rolls the windows down or turns up his music and takes a turn of his dad's chevy. the world is moving around him and he keeps driving. locked away in this metal box with windows. driving.

on a broad level, that same structure just goes on the entire story. it's so beautifully done. and i believe it's literally the language lending to that too? the lake and town and weather is "smooth" and "flat" and the houses are "handsome" and these descriptors remain the same throughout.

there's this line i really like, about a sprinkler scattering water on a garden. and it's described to be doing it, like: hopelessly. round and round. it's a brief on-the-nose symbolism and i love it.

and there's another layer beneath that all, obviously. with kiowa & the silver star, and really it's the war. and just... peeling away any analysis or whatever right now, the story itself is disgusting if you imagine yourself in there. it's shit. the way it's written just. you think you're brave? could you jump in front of a bullet? could you take this? could you sit and wait? if you've had courage in the hardest of times could you have the type of courage you don't get a say in, at all? could you just be?

that line. "he knew shit. It was his specialty. the smell, in particular, but also the numerous varieties of texture and taste." maybe i'm thinking about this too vividly—but that's objectively horrifying to me. sinking in shit. objectively, you could say that "oh, it's better than facing the threat of being gunned down to death," but... let's be so fucking real. think about it: imagine yourself there.

from an analysis perspective, the ending is what gets me, most of the time. it's such a traditionally happy ending, has all the good symbolism points. gets out of the car, dips his head in the river—which, you know, cleansing, rebirth, all that bullshit (ha)—he watches the fire works for the 4th of july and yeah, it's a nice scene.

and then he says it's a pretty good show. that word pretty changes the entire fucking thing! and he's been doing this throughout, hasn't he? objective comments about the weather -- it's nice -- the town -- it's clean, sanitary -- and that's all he does. he's very carefully detached from the meaning of july 4th, too. the colours of the fireworks are pretty much identical to the colours of the flares from the night kiowa died in that shit field.

in a way, norman sort of died then too. with kiowa. the stupid analysis stuff, cleansing, rebirth, whatever—all of it, but inversed. it wasn't the water, it was the goddamn waste. instead of clean it makes you feel dirty—and norman's feeling of "dirty" means so many things. the guilt of kiowa. the distance from the town, the handsome, neat town who doesn't want the dirty war stories. the general view of the vietnam war. how he's completely clung onto all that this "dirty" means because he's still stuck in the war. my favourite description(s): the place looked as if it had been hit by nerve gas.

i have so much to say about that lake too. there's a really fucking oomph factor about the lake, you know? it's the lake where his old friend died. i wish i could explain this bit properly but god, i dunno, i just feel like there's some sort of parallel between the lake and the shit field. he tastes the water too. they're both described as flat bodies of water. there's something about that scene.

the ending isn't depressing, just because that word's too harsh, but it's... not happy. the way i see it, norman's attempting to achieve what the water is meant to symbolise. cleansing, just trying to wash it off of him again. all that shit. the waste of the war, of his guilt, of—and it leaves him disconnected, because that's a part of him and the only way to get rid of it is cutting it off. he doesn't talk about it, doesn't have anyone to talk to. it's not that he doesn't want to talk about it—he desperately wants to, so much that it genuinely breaks my heart. "want to hear about the silver star i almost won?" he whispers it at one point: the more times i read that, the more i feel his quiet anguish. he shouldn't have to be so disconnected, but he is because they don't want to listen. the place could only blink and shrug.

anyway i just think there's so much to take away from this story in particular. yeah, if you analyse it in that classroom style there's the repetition, that lost quality, the idea of being unable to speak. but more importantly there's the gross reality of it -- it was a shit field and he lost his friend and no one wants to hear about it. because it's shit and that's not what we want to hear of war. because norman wasn't able to save him and where's the good ending to that? we want to hear nothing about war that is war, really.

my thoughts on this will never end btw. there is so much more i have that is unsaid. there's just so many angles to this story -- on a literal sense, as a standalone, connected to the rest of the novel,

and it isn't norman's fault he can't speak. because since this isn't a pretty story, since there isn't a moral or point to it, there's just no one who'll fucking listen.