Академический Документы
Профессиональный Документы
Культура Документы
Professor Name
Full Date
The Veterans Journey: Time & Memory in The Train and Speaking of Courage
Mariette Kalinowskis The Train and Tim OBriens Speaking of Courage portray
characters grappling to reconcile antewar and postwar identity, which manifests itself through the
inability to speak. Time and memory are motifs common to both works which serves to compress
past, present, and future, creating a liminal space where the character is exiled and displaced and
prepares the protagonist to cross a threshold where agency is regained and healing may begin
(Chen 77). This effect is achieved through the use of language depicting movement which is
periodic, orbital, and rotational leading to a demarcation where the protagonist may resume
Periodicity is introduced in short order in The Train. Watching the western skyline of
Queens backed by Manhattan gives her a swinging backdrop to the narrative of her memories
(Kalinowski 59). The swinging motion of the background emphasizes the disjointed nature of the
protagonists story. It works to create a space where memory is confused and must be sorted
On the train to Penn Station, the protagonist dives further into memory, merging the
future trip to Vermont with memory of a spiraling summer home. Ten hours on Amtrak to the
small town where her mom has a summer home, a barn-like house built in that odd Vermont
continuous manner, with one room followed by another and unexpected doors and thresholds
Last Name 2
appearing out of the shadows drawing a person through the house, floating along without
wanting to (Kalinowski 60). The timeline is blurred in conflating the notion of ten hours passing
with the description of the house built in that odd Vermont continuous manner. The protagonist
is unable to combat the centrifugal force compelling the circular journey through her trauma.
Convexitythe quality or state of being curved outwardis not confined to the path but
also defines the lens through which the protagonist views the world. Her memory of that
summer, hazy in the same way the dust rolled over the base and made her feel like a goldfish
trapped in a bowl, everything looking curved and surreal (Kalinowski, 60). The protagonists
circular journey generates a convex impermeable membrane through which reality is distorted
surreal. A wide angle perspective is created where everything looked curved, through which
details are indiscernible and hazy. The protagonist is trapped in a goldfish [] bowl shaped
realm where time and space are warped, and the linear is curved onto itself.
The circular nature of the protagonists existence confounds her. Only their possessions
there proved that they visited, no other lasting mark (Kalinowski 60). This sentiment is echoed
on the next page, where There wasnt a single hole or mark on the bird (61). The protagonists
search for markingspeculiarity in a circular landscape where all points are equidistantis the
defining characteristic of her journey. The process of signification is what compels her circuitous
search. When the war becomes sign (and therefore not-war) [she] wont have to think about it
Further examination of the bird leads to parallels between the birds southbound journey
and the protagonists journey from New York City to Vermont. The small, gradual movement
along its path too tiring and it simply gave up, let its wings go slack and tumbled to the ground
(Kalinowski 61). When the birds wings go slack, it foreshadows the protagonists relaxation
Last Name 3
of tension in realizing that even if she changes things in her mind, they were still the same in
reality (Kalinowski 76). This catharsisthe purgation of her guilt over Kavanaghs death
signifies the death of the old circular paradigm to make way for a new one more conducive to
healing.
Revisiting burying the dead bird sets off a visceral ideation in the protagonist
Kavanaghs death, her own demise, speaking to her motherculminating in the image of being
pulled apart. On those days she felt like a figure skater: extending her arms would slow the spin
and manage the dizziness, while pulling her arms close would spin her faster, faster until her
body pulled apart (Kalinowski 62). In distancing herself from her trauma through extending
her arms, she is able to slow the spin and manage the dizziness, but in order to escape the
cycle of ceaseless rotation and disorientation she must survive the destruction brought on by
Before confronting her guilt, the forces acting on her become more palpable than they
have been. She felt the gentle tug of gravity, of downward force on her body, and she almost
believed that she wanted to give in to this desire and be below, beneath where she belongs
(Kalinowski 68). A choice has presented itself: she may end her life, end her suffering, reunite
occurs in the narrative. And, yetand yet (68). The ellipsis signifies the moment at which the
protagonist succumbs to the gravity of her trauma, collapsing in on herself and creating a rip
through which she may pass to confront her memories of the day Kavanagh died.
discusses structural linguist Roman Jakobsons observation that the structural laws of ellipsis
have not yet been subjected to a thorough analysis (qtd. in Lustig 83). Lustig continues in
Last Name 4
saying, Ellipsis might, therefore, be presented as a lexical instance of the discursive tendencies
of the realist text, which as Jakobson observes in Two Aspects of Language, characteristically
digresses from the plot to the atmosphere and from the characters to the setting (qtd. in Lustig
83) (Lustig 83). The ellipse in the line, And, yetand yet, functions to give pause for the
reader to shift from the micro to the macro, to focus on the magnitude of the protagonists
understand or express speech, caused by brain damage. Given the protagonists possible
traumatic brain injury suggested by her blinding headaches (Kalinowski 72) during her
recovery, the ellipses may be allusory to an aphasia-like condition where she is at a loss for
words. It is also suggestive of the protagonists inability to speak with her mother about her
experiences in Iraq. The ellipsis has yet another meaning. Lustig notes an observation made by
OBrien in a 1984, Truth [resides in] those moments of punctuation, when things explode (qtd
in Lustig 85).
As the train enters the tunnel, the protagonist is swallowed up by the earth and sights and
sounds begin to merge. The earth closes around the train. The clatter of the wheels and joints
grows more persistent, closer. The lights of each station flashing past the windows then streaking
and finally stopping with the alignment of the train (69). The imagery is suggestive of a black
hole, where light is frozen in its attempt to escape stopping with the alignment of the train.
The language creates a nontemporal realm outside of space, a chrysalis where metamorphosis
can occur.
In her chrysalis, the protagonist explores the nature of reality. Existence is circular, the
world built in the round: clocks, horizons, galaxies, and always the earth swinging wide and then
Last Name 5
close, around and around the sun and always at some moment striking a point at which it has
already been (69). Not only are these things clocks, horizons, galaxiescircular, they are
also vast. Clocks have no end, horizons lay just beyond grasping, and galaxies are unfathomable
in scale to humans. If dwelled upon, it inspires despairthe feeling that one may never escape.
The protagonist relives Kavanaghs death constantly. At any given moment she exists in
the very same place that she existed in Iraq, the exact same instant that she stood over Kavanagh
bleeding out, or the moment she snatched her weapon up, or the instant before that when she
shouldve already been snatching her weapon up (69). The passage not only serves as a constant
reminder to the protagonist within the story, it also relays the authors experience as a combat
veteran, much like Tim OBriens work. In Worlds of Hurt: Reading the Literature of Trauma,
Kal Tal discusses Philip Beidlers contention that the end goal seems to be the reduction of the
war to signfor him, Vietnam War literature is part of a continuing process of signification:
the telling and retelling of the war inscribes it upon the nations consciousness until we have
learned at what cost it was waged for everyone it touched then and now and beyond (Tal 63).
In the desire for signification, the author is compelled as much as her protagonist to tell the story
over and over again until it is an indelible mark on the nations consciousness.
During her flashback to the day Kavanagh died, the protagonist exercises agency for the
first time in the story. No, she wont go to Vermont (70). This is in contrast with the previous
external driven plot the tightness that announces the flood (59) and the fact that this trip is
actually her mothers idea (60). Instead of uncontrollable events happening to the protagonist,
she has made her first real decision in lieu of floating along without wanting to (60).
Memory and time continue to be strong motifs in Kalinowskis work. She could never
remember how long the girl took to finally lie still. Some days it lasted only a moment, other
Last Name 6
days it lasted hours (71). The protagonists inability to distinguish a moment from hours
demonstrates the disjointed memories which lord over her. The compression and expansion of
her memory is appropriate given the nontemporal trancelike state indicated by the persistence
of the sounds and lights stopping with the alignment of the train (69).
After the explosion, the physicians administer a physical examination. the doctors
were concerned she might have internal rupturing (72). The internal rupturing here is allusory
to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the invisible wounds of war. Her internal rupturing would
not be healed until she descended into the wound, as she did when the earth closes around the
train (69).
When the train stops, it marks the end of her purgative journey. Then finally, with a
concussive exhale, the train comes to the end of the line. She rises calmly and crosses the gap
with ease (75). The concussive exhale emphasizes the force of the ordeal she endured in
confronting her guilt, empowering her with a sense of calm yet to be seen in the story. She
begins crossing a series of literal and figurative thresholds, the first being the subway gap.
One more time, the reader is transported back to the ECP. She had tried to forget
everything [] burrow into some dark place that would give her a break from the memories,
from the ECP that would come when she inevitable fell asleep (75). The ECPEntry Control
Pointthe site of her trauma. Timmerman writes in Tim OBrien and the Art of the True War
The combat veteran who writes of combat writes from both inside and outside the
experience [] the reader understands that the term observation post is multidimensional
in meaning. Literally it is the elevated spot one climbs to in order to observe possible
Last Name 7
enemy action. But during the long night hours it is also a spot for reflective observation
The Entry Control Pointa place that is both guarded yet vulnerable, the threshold over which
the protagonist is never seen crossing, which haunts her dreams at night. After retrieving the
boon of self-forgiveness from her episode on the train, she is better equipped to deal with visions
of the ECP.
After stepping on the escalator, the protagonist visualizes a future trip to Vermont. The
internal and external are in balance here and she is no longer consigned to her fate of ceaseless
disorienting spinning.
Then the wind picks up and blows through the screened porch and she feels herself
lifting, rising buoyant on the heat rising into the air and swirling into the clouds. And she
is rising, climbing the escalator up from underground, going up and up and seeking out
the sun, seeking out the open air, a place where she can sit down and call her mom. She
pushes through the turnstile [] She blinks in the sunlight in such contrast with the
She visualizes herself riding warm air currents into the sky as she is ascending the escalator to
the street. She is not completely healed, of courseshe will always carry Kavanagh with her.
Tim OBriens Speaking of Courage is similar to The Train in that the main character
also copes with trauma by meandering in circles. The war was over and there was no place in
particular to go. Norman Bowker followed the tar road on its seven-mile loop around the lake
then he started all over again, diving slowly, feeling safe inside his fathers big Chevy
Last Name 8
(OBrien 131). OBriens protagonist exhibits his displacement in having no place in particular
to go, and follow[s] the tar road, much like Kalinowskis train.
In OBriens description of the lake, there is a tension in the temporality of the scene.
Then, there had not been a war. But there had always been the lake, which was the towns first
cause of existence (132). The juxtaposition in the description of the time span of the war with
the idea that the lake had always been there leads to a tension that creates a space the feels alien
to the protagonist. He is exiled to this space that was once called home but no longer feels as
such.
The protagonist has a real command over telling time without a clock. He figured it was
close to five oclocktwenty after, he guessed. The war had taught him to tell time without
clocks, and even at night, waking from sleep, he could usually place it within ten minutes either
way (134). Time is a reoccurring motif: the war is over, the timelessness of the lake, the ability
to tell time without a clock. The protagonist has a firm grasp on where he is in space and time,
yet feels displaced from this place that was his home.
In his travels around the lake, there is a distinct feeling that hes orbiting something cold
and unfeeling, almost monolithic. The town could not talk, and would not listen. Howd you
like to hear about the war? he might have asked, but the place could only blink and shrug. It had
no memory, therefore no guilt (137). In personifying the town as someone who could not talk
and would not listencould only blink and shrug and had no memory, therefore no guilt, Tim
OBrien creates an atmosphere for the protagonist that is remote and unfeeling. The protagonist
struggles to cope with his trauma as evidenced in his inability to speak about his trauma.
OBrien concludes Speaking of Courage with this passage. On his twelfth revolution,
the sky went crazy with color [] After a time he got out, walked down to the beach, and waded
Last Name 9
into the lake without undressing [] He put his head under. He opened his lips, very slightly, for
the taste, then he stood up and folded his arms and watched the fireworks (148). Here, OBrien
uses baptismal symbolism in the line He put his head under. By immersing in the water and
taking in the lake, Bowker crosses a threshold on his path to healing. He assimilates with the
town, easing his feelings of alienation and marking a return from exile.
Mariette Kalinowski and Tim OBrien weave narratives of protagonists traveling through
space and time struggling to confront their trauma. The protagonists internalize their struggles
and are incapable of speaking to other characters about their combat experience. Language of
rotation and revolution is used to depict the disorientation the characters feel in the personal
space they have created in the narrative to confront their trauma. The authors build tension
or series of thresholds over which the characters pass: subway gaps, turnstiles, and escalators,
baptismal lakes. After the threshold, the characters experience catharsisa release of their
traumatic tension. This process of disorientation, threshold, and catharsis, serves to communicate
the veterans journey of coming to terms with trauma. While Kalinowskis protagonist and Tim
OBriens Norman Bowker stand forever changed by their trauma which will never be cured,
Works Cited
Chen, Tina. Unraveling the Deeper Meaning: Exile and the Embodied Poetics of
Last Name 10
Kalinowski, Mariette. The Train. Fire and Forget. New York: Penguin, 2015. 20-35. Print.
Lustig, T. J. 'Moments of Punctuation': Metonymy and Ellipsis in Tim O'Brien. The Yearbook
OBrien, Tim. The Things They Carried. New York: Palgrave, 1992. Print.
Tal, Kal. Worlds of Hurt: Reading the Literature of Trauma. New York: Cambridge University
Timmerman, John H. Tim O'Brien and the Art of the True War Story: Night
March and Speaking of Courage. Twentieth Century Literature 46.1 (2000): 100114.
Print.