«Qué voz más desnuda y terrible» (Jacinto Antón, El País); «Un doloroso ejercicio de honestidad llevado a cabo con absoluta sinceridad y rigor. Un relato soberbiamente ejecutado» (Eduardo Lago).
Tim O'Brien is an American novelist who served as a soldier in the Vietnam War. Much of his writing is about wartime Vietnam, and his work later in life often explores the postwar lives of its veterans. O'Brien is perhaps best known for his book The Things They Carried (1990), a collection of linked semi-autobiographical stories inspired by his wartime experiences. In 2010, The New York Times described it as "a classic of contemporary war fiction." O'Brien wrote the war novel, Going After Cacciato (1978), which was awarded the National Book Award. O'Brien taught creative writing, holding the endowed chair at the MFA program of Texas State University–San Marcos every other academic year from 2003 to 2012.
It's not often that a story I read leaves a lasting impression of "what that f*ck" on me, and its even rarer when a story leaves me with a physical feeling, as if it affected me not just mentally, but physically, as well. What an artfully written and raw piece of literature. I highly recommend it to everyone.
I actually have read a ton of war stories, especially about WW2 that really interested me as a kid and I think still today war and books on it don't fail to shock and make you rethink life in some way. In comparison, this one wasn't as shocking, except for the water buffalo part which ironically was the most disgusting part, even though people are literally killing each other as part of the setting. Still nice though; I do like that it has something to say about narrative - what's true or not, whether it matters ultimately, facts vs feeling. Also, presenting the morally grey nature of some aspects of war was interesting - I think that's not something I've encountered too often.
A short story in which you can find pink sunrises and an ache for the world in between bodies of dead boys and shards of bone. Raw, disgusting, and beautiful.
It's an interesting short story about the throes of war and the truths and untruths interwoven in war stories. From the way the story is written, it feels like the author has some personal affinity with war or some personal experience/connection with it. I know nothing about the author's context so I guess I really can't draw any definite conclusions.
I think it was a brilliantly crafted story. He weaves in different war stories and provides his thoughts about them through the speaker of the story, instead of being directly involved. This can only be done through the meta-fictive nature of the story - it is aware of itself as a construction. This story interlinks so many other stories together within it, without breaks in the conversational tone and narration, demonstrating the true power of storytelling. Human emotions and experiences of hardship are portrayed without excessive descriptions (i.e. running, sobbing with snot everywhere, crying in the rain, other melodramatic examples, etc.), instead, it shows how different people come to cope with their traumas.
This would no doubt be an excellent text to study. Although it's a little bit bleak at times, I think this was vital in carrying the message across to readers. An excellent read.
In the end, of course, a true war story is never about war. It’s about the special way that dawn spreads out on a river when you know you must cross the river and march into the mountains and do things you are afraid to do. It’s about love and memory. It’s about sorrow. It’s about sisters who never write back and people who never listen.
'Like a killer forest fire, like cancer under a microscope, any battle or bombing raid or artillery barrage has the aesthetic purity of absolute moral indifference—a powerful, implacable beauty—and a true war story will tell the truth about this, though the truth is ugly.'
How to tell a story mixes anecdotes together with some philosophical, off-hand commentary on the morality and 'beauty' of war.
O'Brien talks about how war contradicts itself. It is both grotesque and beautiful. This same morality applies to the buffalo anecdote. A monstrous act that can make the reader understand how soldiers are motivated to commit war crimes. The 'beauty' of the act -if you can call it that - is that it highlights the pain Rat is going through from the grief of his dead friend, to be motivated to commit such an act.(this is also yet another story with animal abuse. is it me or does paper wings have an overabundance of short stories with at least a mention of animal abuse?)
The mention of the yo-yo feels like an 'on the nose' symbol of the morality of war. The yo-yoing/fluctuations that represent )in my view - the up and down from morality to immorality.
This story is a sharp contrast to Signs and Symbols; it gives it to us straight. The simple, conversational style makes it enjoyable to read, and easy to empathise with the characters. I get what the author is saying in the first read through. Perhaps I won't get much out of it from the second read through.
Overall, an easy, enjoyable read. Made me think.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
O’Brien effectively illustrates the complex combination of horror and beauty of war in often snarky, surrealist prose. Despite the story’s brevity, O’Brien manages to pack in several high-impact moments that stick with you after reading. Overall, you’re left with a vivid picture of how war can utterly destroy a person. Highly recommend.
"One guy jumps on it and takes the blast, but it's a killer grenade and everybody dies anyway. Before they die, though, one of the dead guys says, "The fuck you do that for?" and the jumper says, "Story of my life, man." and the other guy starts to smile but he's dead.
"Y en último extremo, desde luego, una auténtica historia de guerra nunca trata de la guerra. Trata de la luz del sol. Trata de ese modo tan especial con que el amanecer se despliega sobre un río cuando sabes que debes cruzar el río y marchar hacia las montañas y hacer cosas de las que tienes miedo. Trata del amor y la memoria. Trata de la pena. Trata de hermanas que no contestan las cartas y gente que no escucha."
Idk why I had this rated so low before; I'm cleaning up my shelves and had to correct this because of everything I read in school, I think about this short story the most. I genuinely think about it a few times a month, maybe one a week -- this is my Roman Empire or whatever the kids say.