Monday, March 1, 2021

Two writers who don't write about war

I have not mooched a cigarette from novelist Philip Caputo (A Rumor of War, Horn of Africa). I have not traded email with writer Karl Marlantes (Matterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War). 

I have, however, spent a little time with Tim O’Brien (The Things They Carried, Going After Cacciato): I’ve cadged two or three of the Carltons he smokes incessantly and traded stories about spending time in casinos. 

I’ve also corresponded with writer Steven Pressfield over the past several years, and could call him a friend I’ve never met in person.

Both Tim and Steve have inhabited the world of war as the stage on which they write, but neither of them would consent to be labeled “a war writer.” 

Tim O’Brien has said, “Joseph Conrad wasn’t writing sea stories, and I’m not writing war stories. He was writing stories that were set aboard sea vessels, and those vessels served as a crucible. Similarly, I’m not writing about war. They aren't literally war stories. They’re stories about men at war. Ultimately what each of these stories is about is the human heart... under intense pressure.”

Some of Steve Pressfield’s most well-known stories are set amongst Alexander’s cavalry in 330 BC, or with the Spartans at the hot gates of Thermopylae in 480 BC. But his stories aren’t about “war” as much as they’re about the fraternity amongst warriors: by what code do they live, and how are their external battles a metaphor for the internal skirmishes we all fight – against fear, self-doubt, and the capital-R “Resistance” that stands between us and our true selves?

It feels coincidental that two writers whose work I greatly respect — and to whom I feel something of a personal connection — both have projects being released on the same day: 2 March 2021.

Steve’s newest novel, A Man at Arms, is set in the year 55 AD, two decades after the crucifixion of a Hebrew prophet whose followers continue to prove troublesome to the Roman Empire. The mercenary soldier Telamon of Arcadia (who has appeared in minor roles in several other Pressfield novels) now appears as a main character. Tasked with intercepting and capturing a religious dissident who carries a message that could bring down an empire, Telamon discovers something worth fighting for that’s more important than Roman coin.


***

Releasing the same day is a documentary produced by filmmaker Aaron Matthews, “The War and Peace of Tim O’Brien.” 


Tim, a National Book Award winner and Pulitzer Prize finalist, hadn’t written a book in nearly 20 years, since before the birth of the first of his two sons at the late age of 59. The documentary follows Tim, wife Meredith, and young sons Timmy and Tad as Tim struggles to finish what might be his final book: Dad’s Maybe Book, which started as a collection of notes and letters from an aging father to the sons he expected would reach full adulthood only after Tim was gone.

Tim said he wanted to leave his boys something he wished his own father would have left him: some scraps of paper with advice or insights or stories about when the boys were little, or when, Tim said, “He himself was once a Timmy.” He wanted to leave scraps of paper signed, “Love, Dad.”

The documentary’s website summarizes the film:

"What makes wars worth fighting? How do we write about war? What are the obligations of citizens with respect to war?  What are the after-effects of war on individuals and families? The War and Peace of Tim O’Brien follows O’Brien on the journey of his last book, as he reveals the everyday ties between duty, art, family, and the trauma of war."

 

 

I’ve read Steve’s book once (an advance copy), and liked it enough to immediately turn to page one and start reading a second time.

I’ve also got an affection for Tim, and plan to watch the documentary at my first opportunity. I may even go out and buy a pack of Carltons and smoke one in solidarity. 




3 comments:

Unknown said...

Great work and observations here,Joe. SF, Brad

Joe said...

Thank ya, Brad. SF

Roberto Bob Roberts said...

Good piece.