Down we went again, away from the
gnarled and fissured forest towards the river, flattening out over the
neglected rice-fields, aimed like a bullet at one small sampan on the yellow
stream. The cannon gave a single burst of tracer, and the sampan blew apart in
a shower of sparks: we didn’t even wait to see our victims struggling to
survive, but climbed and made for home. I thought again as I had thought when I
saw the dead child at Phat Diem, “I hate war.” There had been something so
shocking in our sudden fortuitous choice of a prey—we had just happened to be
passing, one burst only was required, there was no one to return our fire, we
were gone again, adding our little quota to the world’s dead.
I put my
earphones for Captain Trouin to speak to me. He said, “We sill make a little
detour. The sunset is wonderful on the calcaire.
You must not miss it,” he added kindly, like a host who is showing the beauty
of his estate, and for a hundred miles we trialed the sunset over the Baie
d’Along. The helmeted Martian face looked wistfully out, down the golden groves
among the great humps and arches of porous stone, and the wounds of murder
ceased to bleed. (Greene 150)
This
excerpt that I chose from Graham Greene’s The
Quiet American has many aspects and nuances in this passage which touch on
some of the concepts we have already discussed in lecture and section.
Throughout the novel, Fowler presents himself as an “objective” reporter of the
war who is just there to report what is happening as the French and U.S. forces
try and maintain control of Indochina. Fowler, the voice and narrator of the
story, paints himself in an unflattering light as a selfish opium user who
constantly objectifies Phuong. Fowler also constantly stresses his English
background throughout the novel in order to convey his innocence and distance
himself form the war. In this passage, Fowler is actually a part of the
violence that he tries to stay away but in this instance is caught up in the
violence of a war his country is not even a part of (in the historical sense).
Not only
does this passage convey Fowler as having a direct tie to the violence being
committed against the Vietnamese and put some of the blame on him, but it is
also an instance of delayed decoding. Although this particular scene is not the
most obvious example of delayed decoding in the narrative (for that is when
Fowler constantly has no idea what the plastics or molds are for), it still is
an instance in which Fowler has a brush with reality. His realization that he
is actually a part of the violence in a war in which his country has no actual
reason for being in Vietnam and therefore has no real reason for being there,
he begins to question his own morality and how he is in fact implicated in the
war. As the reader finds out more information about Fowler’s past with his
infidelity, his desire to stay in Vietnam and his questionable actions, it
becomes clear that Fowler is not an objective reporter of the war efforts at
all nor an innocent witness to the atrocities of war, but instead just as at
fault for the many Viet casualties as the army men who pull the trigger.
-Meagan Davis
The idea of the objective reporter is kind of ludicrous, as we've seen in most modern wars; while reporters do attempt to record war objectively, how is that remotely possible when a reporter is actually on the battlefield? By inserting one's body into combat, one becomes involved within that conflict. The reporter does affect his readers at home perhaps more than an infantry soldier in combat, but he is a subjective viewer. Does subjectivity go hand in hand with loss of innocence? And even if Fowler's past not been drenched in infidelity, would that make him somehow more innocent in terms of the war or just more innocent of wrongdoing in the eyes of the reader? I haven't finished the book as of yet, so I could be wrong, but Fowler never seems close to innocent.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting how Fowler is constantly trying to distance himself with his use of opium, and even being in Vietnam, away from England. His way of thinking seems very skewed in this sense, and just to bring in a bit of modern context, even now, there is quite a population of expatriates in Southeast Asia. And though Fowler isn't necessarily an expatriate, but a reporter, in a way he seems to carry all the ideals of wanting to live free and "innocently", ideals which have been ingrained for many other Europeans present in Vietnam and those surrounding countries.
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