Now, this is just sad. Never mind that the poetry this soldier writes is hackneyed dribble. But his comment about why he writes is just plain silly. In his own words:
“I think it is important to remember why we are here,”
The implication here is that the war in Iraq is somehow to defend the nation. Here it is again, in the words of his poem, titled “Allegiance to the Same”:
Today we’ll stand and be counted (sic) We’re crossing the line in the sand (sic) Regardless that (our) days may be numbered, we’ll fight and defend our great land
I’ve got no problem with poetry that honors fallen soldiers. Fallen heroes have always been a subject of literature and I suspect they always will be. But a poem must at least be honest about what it stands for and it should communicate something meaningful about the experience. To refer to the Iraq War as a defense of “our great land” is nonsense. “Why we are here” has nothing to do with national defense; it has everything to do with ignorance, hubris, and fear peddling.
When I reviewed Brian Turner’s Here, Bullet, I was pretty critical. I am, I admit, a rather harsh critic. If so then it’s because I love great literature and when I find it I don’t mind jumping in the air, clicking my heels together and looking like an idiot. I challenge soldier-poets to make me do that. But even Turner’s poetry is somewhat poetic and well written, and he doesn’t sugarcoat the shit with ear-tickling party-line business.
Why Supporting The War In Iraq Is A Sin
As a soldier who served in Iraq myself, I realize that fellow soldiers deserve the respect and commitment of those with whom they served. Fallen soldiers should be given their credit and those who serve well, theirs. But the purpose, the raison d’etre, of the war itself is a different thing altogether. And from what is public knowledge concerning the events that lead up to it, the justifications given by the decision-makers who are responsible for putting us there, and the reasons why we are still there have nothing to do with honoring the fallen or injured soldiers who may or may not necessarily be “heroes” in the strict definition of the word. In other words, to refer to this war in any way as a “defense of our great land” is just plain nonsense.
To further elucidate the sinfulness of the position that this soldier has taken, as a Christian he should be standing up for the truth of something and not the popular myth, nor in participating in the national pride that has bandied about our flag in the name of the Lord (which I consider the greatest sin of our age). Rather, he should seek to understand the nature of justice and encourage the decision-makers who represent him in Washington to use his service in the military for that purpose and for no other.
The only justification for the War in Iraq that even comes close to that end is the argument that unseating Saddam Hussein in the manner that was done was an act of retributive justice for the acts of ethnic cleansing he perpetrated upon the Kurds, but even that argument falls in shallow water when you consider how many years went by that nothing was done about it. But that wasn’t even an asserted justification until after the fact when it became common knowledge that the stated justifications were all bogus.
My Hope As A Soldier-Poet
One of the reasons I have not submitted the manuscript of Rumsfeld’s Sandbox to any publishers to date is because I still have this nagging feeling that somehow it isn’t ready even though I’m emotionally ready to give it up. I have made the mistake of publishing too soon and I don’t want to make that mistake again.
In my mind, war poetry must first and foremost be poetic and not merely an emotional appeal to pride based on shallow sentiment. Poems like “War is Kind” with its ironic simplicity, “Dulce et Decorum Est” and its bold insistence that dying for one’s country is the greatest glory is an old, old lie, and “The Charge Of The Light Brigade” do that. These are poems that are first poems and if anything else then only secondarily. That’s the kind of poetry, as a poet who has served in combat, that I hope to write.
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The reason for the War in Iraq was the destabilization of the Middle East, to raise oil prices. Which is brutally ironic, because those same war-mongering Republicans are now shutting down Congress over off-shore drilling, which won’t do a damn thing to fix the problem they fabricated. When I’m feeling optimistic, I think the staged oil price shock may have been well-intentioned — a way to cushion the fall from the world’s looming energy crisis…a crisis the likes of which humanity has never faced (and I don’t say that lightly). When I’m feeling cynical, I think it was just greedy bastards wanting to make billions for their friends. I can’t really decide which, but given the way the elites are dumping McCain for Obama, I’m thinking more and more the former, though I never would have guessed that a couple years ago.
Anyway, that’s a long digression. What I wanted to comment on, though, was that I think the problem with much war poetry is the same as that of much political poetry — it’s didactism. Whether you’re saying war is glory or war is hell, in my opinion, any prescribed statement is the death of real poetry. Poetry is an exploration, not a declaration. If you want to make an argument, write a position paper, or some poster board and make a sign.
I think all the successful war poems are seeking answers, rather than explaining them. Whether it’s Turner’s “Here Bullet” — the poem itself — which is actually quite good, as it examines the ambiguity and necessity of confronting death. Or Wilfred Owen, who’s just trying to make sense out of the horrors he’s seeing. The process of poetry gives us answers, in those little epiphanies, but if you already know what you want to say, then that doesn’t happen.
By all this I just mean an extension of your “poetry first” thesis. But I define poetry as non-didactic, and see that as the reason inferior poems don’t make it.
What do you think of Bruce Weigl and the other Vietnam War poets? Yusef Komunyakaa, for example? I only realized that you were an Iraq veteran a few days ago. I’m interested in hearing how you relate your experience (poetically) to theirs.
Thanks, Tim. Those are great thoughts. I partially agree with your poetry-as-didactic thesis. Didacticism for the sake of didacticism, of course, is bad. But I think writing on political themes in general is difficult because you can’t do it without taking a position. Who would want to read a political poem that is neutral? And, in particular, who would want to read an entire book of political poems that don’t take a position at all? What would be the point?
That’s not to say that difficult issues can’t be handled in poetry where the poet tries to see the issue from various angles. In that case, you might explore the pros and cons in different poems to present a more balanced approach. But I think you’re right in one aspect of your argument – it’s about exploration. But can the poet arrive at a conclusion, or encourage the reader to?
This is really what I’m trying to do in Rumsfeld’s Sandbox. It is more about the politics of the Iraq War and not necessarily about my experiences there, though there is a little of that. The title is almost a misnomer as many of the poems are not necessarily related to the war at all. Some, like “Music”, are simply poems that I wrote while in country and don’t fit into a war theme at all.
The problem that I run into is in saying what needs to be said, but saying it in a way that makes it poetic. Some of it is more akin to “Howl” than “Facing It.” My hope is to show the inner struggle of a soldier (an officer) dealing with issues of anger and conscience while serving in a war that he finds morally despicable. On the one hand, there was the willingness to serve and on the other there was the betrayal that forced him to serve under conditions for which he never would have volunteered. How do you say that in a poem? Furthermore, how do you say it over and over again, or through exploring a variety of tropes, in a book of poems? That is my challenge.
In terms of war poems, I’ve never considered myself a war poet and never really wanted to so I haven’t spent a lot of time reading war poetry until just recently. I like Komunyakaa. I recently finished reading Dien Cai Dau and was surprised by the simplicity of the language as opposed to Brian Turner’s “thickness.” “Here, Bullet” is an exception in his work as a poem that explores the idea of death through simplicity of language. I like the poem, but I don’t think it’s the best poem in the book.
To tackle your question head on, I don’t relate to a lot of war poetry that I have read. Most of it is either a glorification of war, or it’s a “this is what I experienced” or “how war affected me” type of poetry, or as in the case with much of today’s anti-war poetry, it’s merely reverse sentimentalism where the poet “preaches” of the evils of war and there is no entertaining the idea that there might actually be reasons to stand and fight. I come from the traditional Just War way of thinking.
It seems to me that most non-soldiers who want to read poetry, or any kind of literature from soldiers, are more interested in “what did it look like over there” poems or poetry that shares the poet’s thoughts about his experiences. That’s not really where I’m coming from. I’m very conscientious in how I live my life and I feel betrayed that my willingness to serve was used for purposes which I do not support. And not being anti-war, or a pacifist in any sense, and having an above-average understanding of the history of my country and a commitment to its founding principles, my poetry deals with those issues on some level. Those are issues most war poets don’t deal with at all or, if they do, only touch on.
I may never find the right balance between the emotive element – the “how I feel” about the war – and the intellectual. When you feel as strongly about it as I do, how do you “howl” without sounding like a banshee whose shrills serve no purpose? That is my eternal dilemma.
The problem with didacticism isn’t that you take a position, it’s that you take it from the start — maybe it’s as simple as the reader’s trust, and being suspicious of rhetoric. Although I think it’s more than that — I think it’s hard to write a poem that isn’t dull without surprising yourself.
Rumsfeld’s Sandbox sounds like an interesting book. Those are topics I haven’t seen often in war poetry either, and though it sounds like you have reservations, those interludes into other subjects that “don’t fit” are important in a book, I think…especially if you wrote them in country. They’ll relate for readers in ways you don’t think of. You’re the main character in your book, so everything you do builds character.
Can’t wait until it comes out. I know you say that you’ve published too early in the past, but my advice would still be not to wait too long. You can tinker forever, tinker to death. At some point you just have to let it go. I don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on it, though.
Oh, and you should check out Bruce Weigl. As someone who was born after Vietnam, and never served, I can’t speak to those aspects as anything other than a belated bystander, but as a poet, he’s the best I’ve read on these topics since Owen (who I personally really like).
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Please visit http://www.lulu.com/content/3874655 and take a peek at my book of war poetry. I’m not writing to defend anything or promote any ideal. I just wanted to release some anguish. Don’t be shy. Tell me what you think.