In Richard Bausch’s Peace, storytelling between soldiers on the war’s front lines is as
much a part of their lives as the violence and action they’re immersed in. Not
every second at war is filled with action, and in their down time, the soldiers
in Bausch’s novel entertain each other, and themselves, with stories about
their lives before the war. For some soldiers, remembering and retelling
stories of home serves a therapeutic purpose. Stories of home provide not only
entertainment, but also remind the soldiers that they are more than soldiers—they
are human beings, too.
For others,
remembering their homes and past lives doesn’t connect them to their humanity.
Rather, storytelling makes them feel even further removed from themselves when compared
to the inhumanity of being a soldier at war. This is particularly true for
Corporal Robert Marson. “His life there [at home] now seemed a hundred years
ago. Or it was worse […] it felt like something he must have imagined. It no
longer carried with it the weight of memory but was marbled with the
insubstantial feeling of imagination” (73). The happiness and simplicity of his
life before the war is gone.
During the war, the
tragedies and hardships that Marson has endured, (the deaths of his fellow
soldiers, witnessing the death of an unarmed woman, and being responsible for numerous
deaths himself, all while trying to survive winter in the mountains) have removed
him so far from his humanity that he cannot even imagine having lived a life
where he was a semi-professional baseball player with a loving wife and family.
The only real thing in his life is the war, and remembering life before the war
feels, at times, impossible, and other times downright painful and scary. “[I]t
frightened him, as if his mind would not be able to support it. He did not want
to think of home now, or of love, or of family, hearth, hope” (156). Rather
than serving as a connection to his humanity, for Corporal Marson, storytelling
reinforces the disconnection between his past life and the inhumanity of a life
at war.
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