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Tim O’Brien’s Collectivist Psyche as His Arch-Nemesis in “The Things They Carried” (2004) – Essay by G. Stolyarov II

Tim O’Brien’s Collectivist Psyche as His Arch-Nemesis in “The Things They Carried” (2004) – Essay by G. Stolyarov II

The New Renaissance Hat
G. Stolyarov II
July 29, 2014
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Note from the Author: This essay was originally written in 2004 and published on Associated Content (subsequently, Yahoo! Voices) in 2007.  The essay earned over 1,400 page views on Associated Content/Yahoo! Voices, and I seek to preserve it as a valuable resource for readers, subsequent to the imminent closure of Yahoo! Voices. Therefore, this essay is being published directly on The Rational Argumentator for the first time.  
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~ G. Stolyarov II, July 29, 2014

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Why does an avid opponent of the Vietnam War, with the opportunity to flee from fighting it, voluntarily succumb to the draft? Why, being so close to the Canadian border, does he lack the courage to jump into the water and swim across? Tim O’Brien’s moral opposition to the Vietnam War is clouded by his desire to be accepted by others in his community, and this demon of adherence to the collective will is his prime antagonist in The Things They Carried, and the source of all his further woes and crises.

Had O’ Brien dodged the draft, this would have been a sign of moral fortitude, rather than the weakness it is commonly portrayed to be. O’Brien clearly recognizes this at the time of his attempt to flee to Canada. He knows that the motives behind the war are questionable, and states his belief that “when a nation goes to war, it must have reasonable confidence in the justice and imperative of its cause” (41).

Moreover, O’Brien recognizes himself to be physically and psychologically unfit for war, referring to himself as one whom “the sight of blood made… queasy, and [who] couldn’t tolerate authority” (41). Enlisting in the U.S. Army is a betrayal of O’Brien’s objective self-interest and his own recognition of the nature of his individual character. Consenting to the draft is O’Brien’s tacit allowance of a great moral evil perpetrated by the United States government, a government that would claim the right to employ him as cannon fodder and subject him to all of his subsequent shocking experiences during the Vietnam War. Thus, such a decision is at the root of all of his further struggles.

O’Brien recognizes that his decision to obey his draft notice is a moral travesty on all counts, and, even twenty years later, describes it as a shameful act, which had tarnished his very belief in man’s capacity for heroic, principled action. Rather than adhere to his own understanding of morality, O’Brien gives in to the prevailing perception in his community of draft dodging as cowardly, unpatriotic, and scandalous. When imagining the entirety of his community staring at him as he tries to swim for Canada, O’Brien’s psyche magnifies the impact of this collective superstition far beyond the ability of the people espousing it. O’Brien is physically distant from the ignoramuses who would wantonly sacrifice his life, and they cannot affect his decisions, if he does not let them. O’Brien, however, is so maniacally afflicted with the desire for acceptance at any cost that his very physiology revolts against him. He recalls, “I did try. It just wasn’t possible” (59).

Despite O’Brien’s professed disgust with the simplistic platitudes of the collective with which he lives, his collectivist psychological malady is pervasive enough to place these platitudes in full control of even this, the most critical decision he would ever face. O’Brien’s desire for acceptance is irrational, suicidal, and perverse. His safety, his intellect, his understanding, and his future all stand in opposition to his society, yet, he selects his society over them. There is neither excuse nor justification for this act of moral weakness. O’Brien’s community, the draft board, the Viet Minh, and the routine physical hardships of war, would never have harmed him at all, if only he had the internal consistency to follow the course dictated by considerations of reason and justice.

Because O’Brien’s perceived exaggeration of the importance of the opinions of others in his community motivates his decision to heed his draft notice, O’Brien’s greatest foe is that part of him which impels him to act against himself.

The Brotherhood’s Anti-Individualistic View of History in Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man” (2005) – Essay by G. Stolyarov II

The Brotherhood’s Anti-Individualistic View of History in Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man” (2005) – Essay by G. Stolyarov II

The New Renaissance Hat
G. Stolyarov II
July 28, 2014
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Note from the Author: This essay was originally written in 2005 and published on Associated Content (subsequently, Yahoo! Voices) in 2007.  The essay earned over 11,500 page views on Associated Content/Yahoo! Voices, and I seek to preserve it as a valuable resource for readers, subsequent to the imminent closure of Yahoo! Voices. Therefore, this essay is being published directly on The Rational Argumentator for the first time.  
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~ G. Stolyarov II, July 28, 2014

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In Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, the Brotherhood subscribes to a view of history that inherently and deliberately disregards the individual personalities and interests of the Narrator and the people of Harlem whom the narrator seeks to inspire to action.

The Brotherhood’s theory of history is that of an impersonal force, in which individuals are mere actors fulfilling purposes far larger than themselves. Upon introducing the Narrator to the Brotherhood, Brother Jack explains this theory to him: “So it isn’t a matter of whether you wish to be the new Booker T. Washington, my friend. Booker Washington was resurrected today… He came out from the anonymity of the crowd and spoke to the people” (307).

According to Jack, the Narrator was speaking not for himself, but as a mouthpiece for Washington’s historical legacy, which “the people” continue to require under the present circumstances. The speech, suggests Jack, was made not with the narrator’s private interests in mind but as a response to “the people’s appeal” (307). Thus, the Brotherhood theory states that history is shaped by an enormous collective agent, “the people.” Somebody has to provide a “scientific” understanding of this determining force, however, and such a role is conveniently fulfilled by the Brotherhood itself.

Jack reveals the true implication of this role when he states of the Brotherhood committee’s purpose, “We do not shape our policies to the mistaken and infantile notions of the man in the street. Our job is not to ask them what they think but to tell them” (473). The Brotherhood defines history as a force shaped by the people’s will, while the Brotherhood defines “the people’s will” and thereby shapes history. Due to the strict hierarchical organization of the Brotherhood, its central committee, by this theory, is the principal definer and mover of history. Thus, the Brotherhood’s theory of history is doubly layered. On face, it seems to reflect the people’s desires, but, in its underlying essence, it is but a means of asserting the committee’s power over the people.

If history is whatever the committee chooses it to be, all others, be they working for the brotherhood or outside it, are mere instruments to this end. Once the Narrator dares challenge this view by taking initiative to organize Clifton’s funeral, Brother Jack unapologetically reveals the idea’s core: “For all of us, the committee does the thinking. For all of us. And you were hired to talk” (470). Jack and the committee do not permit their subordinates even a marginal degree of autonomy in actually determining the goals and purposes which the people, and thus history, will be animated by. The Narrator is only allowed to shape means, not ends, and only to a highly limited extent.

By inculcating the creed of sacrifice and denouncing “opportunists” and “petty individualists” (400-1), the committee hopes that its subordinates will voluntarily and systematically forego their personal ambitions and ideas, no matter how justified, in favor of the committee’s wishes, simply because the committee wished them. Since others are not allowed to shape history, the committee is thus able to hold firmly onto its reins and convince its Brotherhood minions that the only way to be “within history” is to follow the Brotherhood. The Narrator falls fully into this trap when questioning the motives for Clifton’s departure from the Brotherhood, asking, “Why should a man deliberately plunge outside of history and peddle an obscenity… Why should he choose to disarm himself, give up his voice and leave the only organization offering him a chance to ‘define’ himself?” (438).

The very notion that the only manner in which an individual can define his identity and act efficaciously within the context of history is to serve the Brotherhood can only follow from the Brotherhood’s own idea of history as defined by the Brotherhood. The irony that befalls the Narrator and other loyal Brotherhood subjects is that, in thinking that serving the Brotherhood’s idea is the sole way to preserve their historical agency, they in fact renounce the only true historical agency anyone can have, the agency of autonomous, self-directing individuals.