"Unresolved Trauma"

Since the story was assigned, I've always found the title "Recitatif" peculiar. Although "Recitatif" isn't an English word, it is the French form of recitative, which has two possible definitions. One definition of recitative is a style of musical declamation that hovers between song and ordinary speech. To be honest, I can't see a clear connection between that definition and the title. Perhaps it's related to how the multiple interactions between Twyla and Roberta were unusual compared to their regular, everyday lives. In other words, their interactions "hover" between their two vastly different lives. However, I'm not convinced. 

The other definition of "Recitatif" refers to recitation. Throughout the story, Twyla and Roberta struggle "reciting" their past; both of them are confused about who Maggie was and what exactly happened to her. While this definition somewhat pertains to the story, I believe that the relationship between Twyla and Roberta consists of much more than their inability to remember Maggie. While the disagreement between who Maggie was causes some conflict between the two characters, their opposing views on the integration of schools is more significant. 

As a result of my pondering, I have thought of a possible alternate title for the story. I believe that "Unresolved Trauma" could be a good title. The strongest connection between Twyla and Roberta is their shared experience of the orphanage; it's where they met and became friends. It's also clear that Twyla and Roberta went through some traumatic experiences. In their recollections of what happened to Maggie, they recall some morbid details. For example, in Twyla's version, Maggie was mute and couldn't call out for help (which is pretty messed up if you think about it). Being bullied by the older group of girls, especially at a young age, can be very traumatizing, and watching someone experience horrific things (and not being able to do anything about it) can be just as traumatizing. Additionally, the difficulty Twyla and Roberta experience trying to remember the exact events of their past is a possible sign of trauma. It's common for people, especially children, to alter their memories by exaggerating details or completely making up new ones. 

Although an important aspect of "Recitatif" is the inability to determine Twyla's or Roberta's race, I don't think it necessary should be in the title. I interpreted the inclusion of this ambiguity as some sort of moral/lesson; it was a point Morrison was trying to make. While the race of the two characters is important to consider, it doesn't necessarily affect the plot of the story. As a result, I believe that this aspect should be left out of the title. Additionally, many stories usually have lessons/morals unrelated to their title.   

I certainly don't think it's perfect, but I believe that the title "Unresolved Trauma" is suitable replacement for "Recitatif."

Why Can't They Be Friends?

Here is a different ending to "This is What It Means to Say Pheonix, Arizona"
_________________________________________________________________________________

Victor knew that Thomas would remain the crazy storyteller who talked to dogs and cats, who listened to the wind and pine trees. Victor knew that, despite the difficulty, he should become friends with Thomas. After all that happened, it was only right.

"I know how it is," Thomas said. "I know you ain't going to treat me any better than you did before. I know your friends would give you too much shit about it."

Thomas was ashamed of himself. The decision to become Thomas's friend was way more difficult than it should've been. Whatever happened to tribal ties, the sense of community? The only real thing he shared with anybody was a bottle and broken dreams. He owed it to Thomas.

"You know what?" responded Victor. "Screw my friends. I don't care if they give me shit about it. You're a great friend Thomas."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yeah I do." Victor paused. "Here. I want you to have this."

He handed Thomas the cardboard box that contained half of his father. Thomas took the ashes and smiled, closed his eyes and told this story: "I am going to travel to Spokane Falls one last time and toss these ashes into the water. And your father will rise like a salmon, leap over the bridge, over me, and find his way home. It will be beautiful. His teeth will shine like silver, like a rainbow. He will rise, Victor, he will rise."

Victor smiled. "I was planning on doing the same thing with my half," responded Victor. "You want to do it together?"

That offer caught Thomas off guard. He quickly hid the look of surprise on his face with a smile. "Yes. I would like that."

A few days later, Thomas and Victor started towards Spokane Falls. A few minutes in, Thomas turned to face Victor.

"You wanna hear a story?"
_________________________________________________________________________________

After reading "This is What It Means to Say Pheonix, Arizona," I wasn't super satisfied. Although the ending is touching, with Victor agreeing to listen to Thomas's story, the part about how Victor can't treat Thomas any better still bothered me. To me, Victor has a real bond with Thomas. Not only do we see Victor and Thomas have moments of bonding throughout their journey, we also see that they've had a (mostly) friendly relationship much earlier in their lives. As a result, I was quite disappointed when both Victor and Thomas accepted that they couldn't become friends because they would get "too much shit."

An argument could be made that the original ending does suggest that they become friends. The story ends with Victor agreeing to listen to one of Thomas's stories. As we discussed in class, the act of listening is a much more meaningful display of friendship compared to having the title of "friends." Perhaps the author purposefully ended the story this way so the reader could use their own imagination and interpretation to determine the future of the pair. However, I believe that being friends with someone (or in this case, treating someone better), despite receiving hate from others is just as important of an act. Seeing that Thomas is an outcast, the act of proposing to be his friend is as equally powerful as listening to his stories. As a result, I created an ending quite similar to the old one, except that Victor is willing to treat Thomas better, despite getting "too much shit."

The Reality of War

Question: What does the story "The Things They Carried" suggest about the affect of war, especially on soldiers?

Thankfully, most of us don't need to experience the horrors soldiers face during war. Speaking for myself, war has always been something like an abstract idea or concept; I've read, watched, and learned about it, but I've never really experienced it. Although I have learned about the horrors of war in history, I still possess a false, more romanticized perception of being a soldier. Since I was a kid, I have enjoyed watching action movies and shows. Many of these films typically portray soldiers as badass, hardcore demigods that can accomplish anything that they face. Even after being shot numerous times, receiving multiple devastating blows, and suffering from PTSD, the soldier(s) always manage to triumph.

Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried" provides a glimpse into the lives of U.S. soldiers on the front lines in the Vietnam War, by following a small company of men. The story describes the various "load-outs" the soldiers have, depending on personnel, mission, and occasion. While these physical objects take up a majority of the story, they provide a window into the emotional burdens that the soldiers bear. For example, Ted Lavender carries an excessive amount of tranquilizer and dope, indicating how scared he is in this war.

The main character of the story, Lieutenant Cross, carries letters, two pictures, and a pebble from Martha. While these possessions are physically insignificant compared to his other, more essential equipment, they certainly have significant emotional weight. Every day, in the late afternoon, Cross would dig himself a foxhole and hold the letters in his hands, imagining a life with Martha. These sentimental tokens are constant reminder of her existence and "what could've been," causing Cross to begin losing focus and daydreaming during missions. After Lavender's death, Cross blames himself for being constantly distracted, and as a result, he burns the letters and pictures. By burning these possessions, Cross hopes to distance himself from the sentimentality that he now sees as a destructive force. As a result, at the end of the story, he becomes extremely strict and decides that his obligation was "not to be loved but to lead." This shift in his mentality shows the damaging toll war takes on its victims.

However, many of the other soldiers also carried emotional baggage. It's important to note that many of soldiers who fought in the Vietnam War were young men in their late teens or twenties. This inexperience only intensified the emotions that they felt while on the field. Although Lavender was the only one who clearly displayed signs of fear, all of his comrades were equally as scared. For example, during their missions to destroy the tunnel complexes, they played a game of luck to see who would crawl down the tunnel. No one ever laughed, and the loser would often be haunted by dark thoughts during their excursion. This fear can also be seen in the company's reaction after Lavender's death: Kiley kept repeating "the guy's dead," Cross wanted to cry, and Kiowa was relieved that it wasn't him (he also couldn't shake the image of Lavender collapsing like a sand bag).

To put it simply, "They all carried ghosts."

Throughout the story, we can find evidence of the human-ness of the soldiers. Even at the end, when Cross embraces a more stereotypical soldier's mindset, it's still shown how human he really is; he has to constantly remind himself of his duty. Additionally, Cross's relationship with Martha will never be the same, and perhaps, his relationship with love will be damaged forever. By showing how inexperienced these soldiers are and the intensity of their emotions, Tim O'Brien reminds us that, at the end of the day, soldiers are humans too.