Dear Kids: It’s War!

Dear Kids: It’s War!

I’ve been having a hard time lately with Alex’s newly found favorite game.

Every time there’s a deck of cards at hand, or a parent without a clear chore in hand, or a new person walking in the room Alex will ask: “Do you want to play a game of War?”

Dear Kids,

War is a perfectly fine card game. It is not quite the test of skill and strategy Alex seems to think it is. There’s a lot more luck and circumstance that influences the outcome (even if you are a seven year old who will carefully stack the deck–without admitting it). And the game can just drag on into eternity if you’re not careful with absolutely no one winning.

And so, I realized for the first time in forty-two years on the planet: the game truly is war.

It’s been a bloody year. The war in Ukraine drags on. The war in Gaza batters people pleading for help. There was a staggering 12 day battle in Iran that ended suddenly (and may restart just as suddenly). All that and there continues to be simmering conflicts that draw little international attention in Sudan, Haiti, Myanmar, Congo, Kenya, and Ecuador. These wars are brutal and bloody affairs that have their origins long before even your grandparents were born.

There are some leaders who try to stack the deck in their favor, only to have it all come undone due to unforeseen circumstances: from the weather to promises of hotels. All of the beliefs of childhood, that there is a way to win the war (in card games, in nerf gun battles, in anything) are woefully mistaken. All the simplicity of good versus bad, right versus wrong, Jedi versus Sith that guide you kids in your understanding of conflict, is just not viable.

The Nobel Prize Laureates I’ve been reading get that. Again and again they revisit the theme that all war is unjust, all war is cruel, all war is random. From Bertha Von Suttner and George Bernard Shaw up to Harold Pinter and Elfriede Jelinek, it’s just danger and violence and then it repeats all over again.

This is where measured and sane sports coaches are a welcome distraction. Freiburg’s Christian Streich and Julian Schuster always made plain that they cared about the safety and well being of people in dangerous areas, and that they held no grudges or animosity against their opponents on the field. Minnesota’s Eric Ramsay, Montana’s Chris Citowiki, they both acknowledge the hard work that their team puts in to win, not the deplorable opponents. This spring saw the end of Big Ange Postecoglou’s run at a top English team, and through it all he was considerate and mindful of the other side and his own (maybe not as much the press, but…c’est la vie).

There are so many ways to play at War. And I know that the looming presence of shoot-em-up video games will add another layer of this. I know that politicians and media and historians love to dig in to the stratagems and offensives to assign medals and blame. I know that comforting narrative makes it easy to decide that War is a good way to show your intelligence, bravery, and worth.

But I hope you listen to the poets. I hope you listen to (some) of the coaches. I hope you listen to the victims: War harms us all.

Nobel FC 1985: Claude Simon

Nobel FC 1985: Claude Simon

Background

Simon in 1932, a suave soldier

Claude Simon was born in Madagascar, but is clearly French through and through. His family was part of the colonial service in Africa and returned to France after his father’s death for his education. Simon showed a great aptitude and studied in Paris, Oxford, and Cambridge. But not being satisfied with an academic life, Simon travelled to Spain to fight in the Spanish Civil War, and then joined the French Army at the outbreak of World War II.

His experiences with war and death deeply affected and influenced his writing. He is often cited as a prime example of the French Nouveau Roman (or new novel) which emphasized clear chronological story telling with distinct narrators. (That influential style has garnered a sizeable number of awards and multiple Nobels.) Simon’s Nobel citation specifically mentioned how he, “combines the poet’s and the painter’s creativeness with a deepened awareness of time in the depiction of the human condition.”

Works

I read his most popular novel: The Flanders Road (or La Route des Flanders) a hefty tome with Simon’s trademark “1,000 word sentences” (That’s not an exaggeration…maybe its an understatement). Here were a few pieces that stood out.

“..war and commerce had always been–one as much as the other–merely the expression of [people’s] rapacity and that rapacity itself was the consequence of the ancestral terror of hunger and death, which meant that killing robbing pillaging and selling were actually only one and the same thing a simple need the need to reassure onesself, like children whistling or singing loud to keep their courage up crossing through the woods at night…”–p. 40

“The turf was speckled and soiled by thousands of betting tickets lost like so many tiny stillborn corpses of dreams and hopes (the marriage not of heaven and earth but of earth and man, leaving it soiled by the persistence of that residue, of that kind of giant and fetal pollution of tiny furiously torn scraps of paper), long after the last hose had kicked up the last clod of turf and had left”—p. 159

Message

It’s been awfully hard to understand much of Simon’s writing as it dwelled on parentheticals and prepositions so much that Flanders Road seems to mostly consist of digressions about how cool horses are. But mixing that with the absurdity of war and more than a little reflection on relationships (both familial and romantic) I’d say he’s taking a position that: attempts to control (others, nature, war) are futile.

(Hopefully he would appreciate the parenthetical in my answer there.)

Position: #3 Left Back

Claude Simon is another entry in an increasingly common trend that I’ve noticed in these reading assignments: chaotic energy and the fullback position.

Like Elfriede Jelinek, he is prone to the mass of text shoveled together, and a combination of ruthless aggression and aimless meandering that would suit a player who pushes up with the attack and charges back when needed. The biggest difference I see between Simon and others like him (including Frederic Mistral and Johannes Jennsen) is that his moments of brilliance are more random and less coherent, while his other work seems more likely to induce disbelief and confusion rather than joy or appreciation.

So let’s hear from our Nouveau Roman afficianados. What makes Simon so stellar? Am I right to see him as a more random Samuel Beckett, or is there a method to his madness? Oh and fullbacks of the world, you can also chime in to tell me if I’ve misunderstood your position…or you’d rather be compared with some traditional poetry instead of the chaos agents I’ve assigned you thus far.

Next Time, 2005 Honoree: Harold Pinter