Flags of Our Fathers

Paperback: 400 pages
Publisher: Bantam; Reissue edition (October 2, 2001)
ISBN: 055338029X
Price: $11.20

I read With the Old Breed by Eugene Sledge a few years ago, after my dad’s passing. Dad had served on Okinawa, but after he’d gotten out of the service, married, and I came along, he was mum about his eight years in the service.

Here, in Flags of Our Fathers, James Bradley, son of John Bradley, who served on Iwo Jima as a corpsman and who was awarded the Navy Cross for his service, recounts a story not so unlike my own, and many other sons born of this generation of leathernecks.

Unlike With the Old Breed, which was told by one of the surviving Marines of Okinawa, Flags is the result of James Bradley’s research and interviews with many survivors of the battle for Iwo Jima, after his father’s own passing. At times Flags reads like an action thriller, its battle sequences, authentic not only in their depiction of all the clichés Hollywood made famous in the 1950s, but in its realism of the true horrors of war, and the impact it had on the survivors. But Flags is more.

Flags follows the lives of six boys, providing a brief bio of each prior to enlisting in the service – five in the Marine Corps, one in the Navy, through their service years, including their participation in the flag-raising on Iwo, the war bond tour in which three of them participated – the other three were killed on Iwo – up to the death of each one, the first, a Pima Indian from Arizona who’s drinking likely contributed to his death at the age of 31, the second, an east coast lad who always lamented the celebrity status that being a flag-raiser promised but never quite delivered, who died of a heart attack in his mid 50s, and John Bradley, the only one who managed to create a life of normalcy, although for years, like my own father and many others who served in the South Pacific campaign, he suffered nightmares.

The Photograph, which is how James Bradley refers to it, of the raising of the American flag on Iwo Jima taken by Joe Rosenthal is today one of the most recognizable photographs ever taken, and it has become an icon of America’s determination, valor and dogma. Yet to the three boys who raised it, it was merely a task, one of the many they performed in the line of duty, perhaps the easiest, and none of them could ever quite come to terms with what the government, the media and the marketing people conspired to create from it. As Ira, the doomed Pima Indian said: “It’s funny what a picture can do.”

Told with great love and admiration, and a fitting tribute to his father and all those from the “Greatest Generation” who served, Flags is a must read for all generations, to understand that there is no glory in war, despite the propaganda the government and admen feed us. There is duty and there is love, but when the bullets fly, no boy fights for their country. They fight for survival and they fight for their brothers. No one should have to ever endure what these kids endured in the South Pacific, or in any war, which is why no one man, with the flourish of his signature, should ever be granted the responsibility of sending young men and women into harm’s way, especially if that man has never walked into hell and back.

Flags is also a motion picture, directed by Clint Eastwood, one which I hope yet to see. I’m sure Mr. Eastwood’s treatment will be true to Bradley’s text, but I’m equally sure that a motion picture will be unable to capture all of what the book relates.

Pirates of the Universe — Still In Possession of a Full Complement of Ten

Hard back: 288 pages
Publisher: Tor Books (March 15, 1997)
ISBN: 0312862954
Price: $22.95

The Washington Post Book World states on the back cover of Pirates of the Universe, "It is the Bissons of the field... upon whom the future of science fiction depends." If this is true, than sci-fi is in a world of trouble. Pirate's plot is intriguing and Bisson's story telling is vaguely reminiscent of the old grand master, Alfred Bester. However, make no mistake, Bisson is no Alfred Bester. There is much more to good sci-fi, indeed, much more to good fiction, than an intriguing plot. It is a writer's responsibility to his readers to build credibility and trust through, among other things, attention to detail, and this is something at which Bisson utterly fails. A good book, like a good movie, should never draw attention to itself through its flaws. In sci-fi, the reader must be willing to suspend his disbelief in concepts of time travel, parallel universes, faster than light travel, etc. But when a writer's poor grammar and inability to construct sound sentences begins to detract from the story, then he is in trouble.

Use of a phrase repetitively can be an effective technique, but Bisson's choice to use the phrase "In the old days..." no less than eight times over a span of one page is not only ineffective but downright annoying. Oldsmobile, Buick and Toyota all find themselves properly noted as proper names in Pirates; yet Chevrolet is conspicuously left with a lowercase `C' throughout the novel, save for one instance. Marlboro (as in cigarettes) appears as a proper name throughout, save for one chapter, when twice the `M' is mysteriously lowercase. Bisson's protagonist, Gunther, "had only hugged his brother once before..." Surely Bisson had intended that Gun had hugged his brother only once before. Small potatoes, perhaps, but together with the host of other inconsistencies and poor choices Bisson makes in relating his tale, it becomes too great an obstacle to overcome. An argument could be made perhaps that Bisson needs a better editor, but ultimately these choices, this attention to detail, must fall on the shoulders of the author.

A 1996 New York Times Notable Book of the Year, one can only wonder what other sci-fi titles might have been Pirates' competition that year. The front cover of Pirates quotes The Washington Post Book World as claiming "Bisson can charm your toes off." Well, this is one reader of Pirates who can still lay claim to a full complement of ten.

Possession — Intellectually and Emotionally Stimulating

Paperback: 576 pages
Publisher: Vintage; Movie-Tie In edition (October 1, 1991)
ISBN: 0679735909
Price: $17.95

My dad once told me that there was no such thing as a bad book, only bad readers. That was before I recommended that he read Possession. Granted, my dad's preference was for historical novels, being a retired Marine, but I was disappointed that he was unable to appreciate the beauty of Byatt's story and, more importantly, her prose in Possession.

Don't be fooled by the cover, which states that you hold in your hands a romance novel. Possession is indeed a romance novel, but not in the vein of Danielle Steel. Possession is much more than that. Where Steel writes formula romance, Byatt has perhaps created a sub-genre, and one that is far more sophisticated than those romance novels that one finds in airport gift shops. Gorgeously written, it is the story of two academic types turned sleuth, who themselves become romantically involved, and their efforts to piece together the love affair between two poets from the nineteenth century, largely from a number of letters they discover by chance.

The prose at times can be difficult, but rewarding nevertheless. A number of love letters are included in the text, and although they are beautifully written, this portion of the novel outstays its welcome; after a time they do little to move the story forward. Still, the end is worth the effort, and although I was surprised by the denouement, others have claimed to see it coming. Winner of the 1990 Booker Prize - the United Kingdom's highest literary award - I recommend Possession to all lovers of good literature.

Saving Milly — Moving Account of a Devastating Illness

Hardcover: 320 pages
Publisher: PublicAffairs; 1st edition (May 22, 2001)
ISBN: 1586480375
Price: $20.95

This country has an aversion to sickness and death, two things that will in time touch each and every one of us. Not a pleasant thought.

For 18 years I watched my own mother combat, with no hope of winning, the same illness Milly is fighting. Morton Kondracke is to be commended for sharing Milly's story. Heart wrenching, Saving Milly is by no means an easy read, but it is a must read. It is more than a story about Parkinson's disease. It's also a story about love and commitment and, yes, obligation, but also of politics. And all of it will open your eyes as well as your heart.

Kondracke doesn't sugar coat Parkinson's, he displays it in all of its vulgarity. Nor does he paint himself a saint in being Milly's primary caregiver. He gets angry with her, loses his temper, shouts at her. But it's not really Milly he is angry with. It's the Parkinson's. Yet how does one vent one's rage at a disease?

He also writes of the politics of Parkinson's, how, unlike cancer and AIDS, research for this debilitating disease is under funded. Kondracke shares his story with a journalistic detachment, but even so the reader will find him or herself moved by his plight and the plight of Milly. His message is simple: a cure for Parkinson's has been agonizingly near for a long time, but money is needed now. He knows that were a cure discovered tomorrow it would be too late to help Milly, but his fight goes on so that others might be saved from suffering her fate.

My hat is off to Morton Kondracke for sharing this side of his life, a side that one day most of us will experience firsthand, but also one which too many don't wish to glimpse, preferring instead to pretend it won't ever happen to them.

Book of the New Sun — Unsurpassed in Depth and Beauty

Paperback: 416 pages
Publisher: Orb Books (October 15, 1994)
ISBN: 0312890176
Price: $14.95

I read The Book of the New Sun when it debuted back in the 1980s. Since then I've read it twice more and intend to read it again. Gene Wolfe has been hailed as a modern day Melville, and also as the best sci-fi writer working today. In short, no one but Gene Wolfe could've written The Book of the New Sun. Although it contains elements of mythology as well as technical aspects of sci-fi, The Book of the New Sun is neither; perhaps it is a genre all its own. This tetrology, now combined in two volumes-Shadow and Claw, and Sword and Citadel-mark Wolfe as the most important writer in the sci-fi field today.

The Book of the New Sun chronicles, in first person, the travels of young Severian, born into the guild of Torturers and exiled for showing mercy to one of his victims, to eventually become Urth's Autarch, or ruler, in a time so distant in our future that all memory of our history has been long forgotten, despite ancient relics such as the painting described as a gold-visored knight who is really an astronaut standing on the moon. The denizens of that distant future Urth live in perpetual twilight, as the sun itself is dying.

Wolfe has created in The Book of the New Sun perhaps the greatest depiction of a future society and history that I've ever read, with glimpses at technology that is otherworldly and alien creatures combined with elements of Dickens, Kafka, and Borges. The language is magical, lyrical, with a touch of ancientness. Wolfe's protagonist Severian is a gentle soul, despite the savage indifference his trade demands from him. Readers will discover that they would willingly follow Severian anywhere across Urth to bear witness to his quest.

The Book of the New Sun is an epic masterpiece that Wolfe has yet to equal in the 20 years since its completion, despite eight additional books based on these original four works. Achingly good, The Book of the New Sun is filled with treasures awaiting discovery with each subsequent reading: it beckons to be read sequentially.

With the Old Breed — Required Reading

Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: Oxford University Press; Reprint edition (September 1, 1990)
ISBN: 0195067142
Price: $15.95

With the Old Breed should be required reading in our classrooms, for this is the brutal reality of war at its most horrific. No sensationalism here; E. B. Sledge merely tells it the way it was. There is no glory in war, in the shedding of another man's blood; in digging a foxhole in a torrential downpour only to uncover the badly decomposing body of a Japanese soldier crawling with maggots; in watching helplessly as four of your comrades retrieve, on a stretcher, a wounded Marine amid machinegun fire ("If it were me out there," Sledge recounts, "I would want to know I wouldn't be left behind."); in enduring a night while being shelled by enemy artillery; in stumbling upon fellow Marines that have been tortured, decapitated and butchered in the worst way imaginable; in suffering sleep deprivation, from malaria and jungle rot, and from hunger, thirst, and, alternately, heat and cold. This is why war should be avoided at all costs, and this is why no one man should ever be given the authority, with a flourish of his signature, to risk the lives of young men and women.

My dad fought on Okinawa, receiving a citation from the office of the president for his participation in the taking of Shuri Ridge. I never knew my dad as a Marine, as he retired from the Corps before getting married and starting a family. I asked him once, when I was a boy, to tell me about his service, but he refused. I asked him again, about six and a half years ago, during the final year of his life, and he again refused. I had hoped that by sharing his pain a healing could take place. Unfortunately, what he saw, what he endured, died with him.

Sledge, in this memoir of his service on Peleliu and Okinawa, told me everything my dad withheld from me. This incredible account, told with frank detachment, is hailed as the best World War II memoir of an enlisted man, and with good reason. Part adventure, part history, "Sledgehammer" not only relates many of the clichés every Hollywood movie depicted on the subject, but also everything they left out.

Thanks, Sledgehammer, for sharing your story, and my dad's, with me. He perhaps felt I couldn't understand what he endured. Perhaps no civilian can. Yet after having read With the Old Breed, I understand a little better why he was the way he was.

Your generation is truly the greatest generation.

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell — A Wonderful First Novel

Hardcover: 800 pages
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA (September 8, 2004)
ISBN: 1582344167
Price: $27.95

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is a fine piece of literature by newcomer Susanna Clarke.

It's difficult to break new ground in the tired genre of fantasy, where a comparison to Tolkien often seems more a marketing ploy to attract readership than a tribute to style or story. However, after reading the first couple of pages of Strange & Norrell, I was hooked. Nearly 800 pages later, when I closed the cover for the last time, I was gratified and satisfied.

Immense in scope (10 years in the writing), the backdrop of Strange & Norrell is 19th century England, the story a sort of alternate reality in which two practical magicians (as opposed to those who only read about magic) endeavor to bring back magic to England. Not only is Clarke's style refreshing, her tale is original, and she relates it engagingly. The two title characters are rather stuffy Englishmen, but Clarke contrasts them nicely, and the reader will often root first for one and then the other as the plot unfolds, like a labyrinth filled with dead ends, traps, portcullises and a variety of surprises. All of the secondary and tertiary characters are colorful and, as in theatre where there are no small roles merely small actors, none are superficial to the story. Yet for all of Clarke's storytelling talent there was something that kept me from fully identifying with either of the protagonists. I never seemed fully able to immerse myself in the story; I seemed only able to watch events unfold from outside the confines of the tale. It is for this reason alone that I was unable to award five stars to Strange & Norrell.

Although some readers may find Clarke's use of old English trying (shew instead of show, etc.), I found the technique lent a flavor of authenticity to her tale. Ms. Clarke's narrative is nearly flawless, teeming with evocative descriptions spanning from the macabre (the stone statue that several hundred years previously had witnessed the murder of a young girl and was suddenly gifted with the power of speech so that it might scream out its anguish is akin to something Poe might've written) to humorous, ranging from deadpan to hilarious. The description of an unshaven doughy-faced man - "He had shaved himself with no very high degree of skill and here and there on his white face two or three coarse black hairs appeared - rather as if a family of flies had drowned in the milk before the cheese was made and their legs were poking out of it" - had me chuckling, while several exchanges between Stephen and the gentlemen with the thistledown hair - "Burnt, sir! I hope no one was hurt!" "Well, some people were. The strong, young men were able to run out of the conflagration in time, but the older, enfeebled members of the family, the women and infants were all burnt to death" - had me laughing aloud.

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is a wonderful first novel, and Susanna Clarke is to be applauded. Oh yes, and comparisons to Tolkien and Rowling are unfounded - in the future perhaps it will be Susanna Clarke with whom many aspiring fantasy writers will be compared.