Sunday, October 26, 2008

The Things They Carried - Passage Qualification

O'Brien states that the essence of a person remains the same. I would agree with that statement given certain qualifications. A person most certainly does not change when one considers the identity. However, if one considers the personality, the one part of a person that truly defines that person, that makes them different from anyone else in a sea of clones, then I would have to disagree. Who you are remains the same. What defines you changes with time.

O'Brien compares his fear of defying the playground bully with his fear of draft-dodging mockery when he received his draft notice. He attempts to state that, deep down, he is no different than he was when he was in the fourth grade. This isn't the part of him that remains unchanged. Sure, it's the same type of inability to act, but that part still changes. In the first example, the fear was more of a fear of injury. The second fear was of embarrassment. The type of fear is different, though he is still fearful. The first fear is something that can be fairly easily overcome, with time and growth. The second very few people can overcome, ever. In "In the Field," O'Brien tells us how he was the one who let Kiowa go under the muck. He describes himself without using his name, but illustrates himself frantically searching for the picture he lost during the attack. He was likely searching in order to keep himself busy, as a pleasant distraction, but he, as the narrator, states that he was doing so in case "something might finally be salvaged from all the waste" (173). As O'Brien tells his stories, he is really doing the same thing he was back in the field. He is searching through all of his stories, retelling them, in the hopes that something good might have come out of Vietnam. This search, in contrast to the former frantic search out of anger and guilt, is more exploratory, more purposeful. Where before he searched to save what little he had left, now he searches to find what he never had, even for what little is left of others, and possibly leave it for the future.

Having acknowledged that a good deal of similarity can be undone by purpose, I still maintain that O'Brien is right in the sense that his identity is unchanged. He discusses in the final chapter how he and his comrades kept the dead alive through stories. In the two detailed retellings and short return to the man he killed, O'Brien describes the characteristics and possible future of that person. The man's overall identity, that of a young Vietnamese soldier who would rather not be a soldier, remains unchanged. He's still the same person walking down the road, and in O'Brien's mind, he still is the same person walking right back down the road. Linda is unchanged, preserved in his mind, in his stories. Though what defines a person changes, who they are as a physical being does not. Rat Kiley slowly lost his mind, and Mary Anne vanished into the jungle. However, they remained Rat Kiley and Mary Anne regardless of where they went or what they did. No matter what kind of person one becomes, they are still essentially the same person. But their personalities change the definition of who they are. Tim O'Brien remains Tim O'Brien, but what is the definition of Tim O'Brien?


Response to "theteach":
Perhaps personality might not have been the best word for me to use, but I believe that one's preferences and actions can help define a person for a specific time frame, a specific purpose. People do change as time goes on, be it from one significant experience or several lesser experiences. Like words with multiple meanings, people can only be judged concretely in a specific context. Yet to analyze the overall word and its general connotation, all definitions must be analyzed. If, following your example, one was gregarious or retiring, it would help define who that person was at that time. But if the person reversed and became the opposite, that would change the temporary definition and add to the overall definition. By no means does one single personality define the person entirely, but all personalities taken together would roughly define them. Thus, one could use a personality only to define a solitary aspect of that person, in a specific context. In the end, you're still using the same word, with the same spelling. And like language, definition is not concrete all around the world. Definitions don't ever replace other definitions, they just add to what's already there. Therefore, personality partially defines a person in the sense that it offers a new definition, a new purpose and meaning.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Group memoir: "Why I Write"

Why I Write - by Irene Gutowna Opdyke

When my country was invaded by the Germans and the Russians, my life changed. Many of my friends and neighbors died. Many others whom I never knew also died. Most of them died because they were not wanted by the Germans, and the Russians felt no different. I somehow managed to survive, despite all that I had gone through. Somehow I survived, and somehow I was able to save the lives of my friends. As "just a girl," I managed to save the lives of twelve people, in defiance of all of Germany, and I survived in defiance of all of Russia.
I do not write my story for myself. I risked my life for my friends and my country, and would have gladly died for them. I do not write so others can marvel at my accomplishments. After all, I was "just a girl" at the time, and really am not that much different than any other person who lived in Poland at that time. What makes me different is that I did what I felt was right, in spite of the odds and the consequences. And I write to tell you two things. First, there is no running from the past. All these things happened. This nightmare really happened, and it is my duty to remember all of it, and to tell you so that you may not forget what we are capable of doing to each other. Second, I write to remind you that you are always able to do something. Though what I did was but a drop in the ocean, it was still that drop. I still did what I believed in, and I always will. If you also do what is right, God willing, you will succeed. And there is no righteous deed that is worth so little as to not warrant doing. This is my will: to do right; to tell you; and to remember.

(P.S. The last line was taken from the end of the novel, page 265.)