dislogue

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September 02, 2004

Torture of Duty IV: More on Mythmaking

I asked myself, I admit, if I wasn’t hammering too fine the wiring in the front matter and Author’s Note of Tour of Duty. I may have been, and I may still be, but I find more indications that I am indeed onto something that the text supports. I’m only most of the way through chapter 1, and already I have little lines drawn in the margins everywhere to remind me of passages of interest. Some of those sections appear in the two posts below.

First, the tone of the text supports my thesis that Brinkley is embarked on an authorial voyage the destination of which is the land of myth. Historians have a tendency towards the stark and the dry. Admittedly, there is a trend in modern history to liven things up, to make history read more like a novel. My observation is that the slope of this trend is close to the inverse of the slope of the trend of rigor of historical works. Histories don’t have to be boring; any time I see a history laced with modifiers, chosen to heighten the emotion I wonder at the objectivity of the author. Brinkley likes adjectives a lot. VVAW members are “green-fatigued.” Kerry is “long-jawed” often enough that I noticed the repetition and wondered if it’s a deliberate attempt to imitate The Odyssey. In that work “the grey-eyed Athena” and “the wine-dark sea” are commonplace. Take this passage, for example:

He was long-jawed and patrician-featured beneath his dark Beatle mop. His lean six-foot-four-inch frame was clad in neatly pressed military fatigues with rows of colorful ribbons festooning his shirtfront. When he began, it was in a low clear voice, calm and unhesitating. He often looked up from his notes and straight ahead at the five senators on the committee.
--Tour of Duty, pp 6-7.
It makes me feel as if Brinkley was there. Except he wasn’t. His reconstruction of the scene is probably from film or tapes of the testimony, news reports, the Congressional Record and other texts. This isn’t quite out of line, but the tone is a bit subjective. It is not unique.

A bit above this on page 6, Brinkley writes:

As Oliphant sidled to a spot against the wall, Kerry strode toward the witness table. His wife, Julia, was already there, in the back, while his sister was anxiously awaiting his arrival in one of the front rows. The solidarity that Kerry felt toward the veterans in the chamber—“brothers,” as he called them—was palpable.
I wonder how much of this is supported by evidence, and how much is reconstruction performed within Brinkley’s mind. I suppose Kerry’s sister may have told Brinkley she was “anxiously awaiting” Kerry’s arrival. And it’s possible that Kerry’s noted somewhere, or reported in an interview, that he felt a solidarity that was palpable. But there are a lot of cases of this, and it seems doubtful to me that everyone involved so consistently reported how they felt at the time. It just feels wrong to me. But maybe I’m a stoic who’s uncomfortable with the feelings of others. Which is why I never read fiction or poetry.

No, what’s bothering me is constant emphasis on what is being felt, as opposed to what is being thought. This book is clearly trying to steer the feeling of the readers, not their thinking.

Which bring me back to the topic of mythmaking. I asserted in that first post on the book below, that the quotes are significant and demonstrate to an intent to equate Kerry with those quoted, thus the juxtaposition of his passage with theirs. There is evidence already in the first chapter to support this (emphasis mine).

Usually Kerry [John’s father] never editorialized in his log: just the no-nonsense facts. But on this last flight he made an exception, writing something personal: “Flight over Mt. Vernon with Johnny.” The flight lasted for only a brief forty minutes. But forty years later he sent the logbook and wings to his son with a note on his law firm stationary: “Is this last entry prophetic?” Richard Kerry was probably referring to his son’s passion for flying, but the flight over Mt. Vernon may inadvertently [have] touched a different prophecy.
Even when he was an eleven-year-old boy, there was a feeling that John Forbes Kerry was touched with destiny.
--pp18-19.
Mt. Vernon is clearly associated with George Washington. I was gratified to tumble over that. Not terribly surprised. I admit I was surprised at the talk of prophecy and destiny, and the way in which it was managed. I connect these allusions to the quote from Psalms, more specifically to the importance of choosing a quote by David. And there is more:
Richard Kerry believed his boys could accomplish anything in America, even following in the oversized footsteps of George Washington, making it all the way to the White House.
--p 19.
While I wonder at the source of this assertion (the notes are vague, and there is no footnoting within the text itself), that it was selected for inclusion is in itself significant. It states explicitly what was only hinted at before. Brinkley has now established that there is prophecy that John Kerry will inhabit the White House. Kerry is touched with destiny. This is, of course, a common device in myth.

Of further interest, in connection with the quotes, is the revelation on page 20 that Kerry had Jewish grandparents. Kerry was not aware of this until 2003, so it certainly had no affect on his development. He was brought up Yankee and Catholic. The inclusion is probably for political purposes, and, perhaps, to add a bit more poetic substance to the mythmaking. David was king of the Jews. Prophecy was written concerning David and his descendants. As a mere boy, David was an important warrior for the Jewish people, toppling Goliath, the giant. He was first beloved of Saul, Israel’s first king, then as he matured, Saul became envious because the people loved David. David was also beloved of God. Eventually David replaced Saul, becoming Israel’s second and far more important king.

Not many readers will note the parallel in the basic structure of the story of David, and the story Kerry aims to finish writing, the one Brinkley suggests here, but the suggestion may work on a subliminal level to make Kerry feel more right to the reader as a potential President.

Posted by dan at September 2, 2004 10:52 PM | TrackBack
Comments

I think you're clearly on to something. The appeal to feelings, as opposed to reasoning and facts, is a time-honored approach to swaying the masses. And the use of devices from the classic literature would go unrecognized by the illiterati...

I first became aware of this approach in college when the questions centered around "how do you feeel about this" instead of "how do you support your condlusions with facts?" I remember a time it became so rampant that the media would approach "I feel the price of tomatos is $1.50." Yikes!

Great investigation into this book. I appreciate your work as, when I try to read this book I end up throwing it across the room.

Posted by: Claire at September 5, 2004 10:41 AM

I'm a very fast reader. I'm on page 56. I don't seem to grab it eagerly every chance I get for some reason.

But it is interesting in a clinical sort of way.

Posted by: Dan S at September 5, 2004 12:30 PM
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