Headline of the Day

If World Ends, So Does Alternate-Side Parking

Thank you, NYT.

I actually know a couple Brooklynites who'll be very happy about this.

CBRIII #9: The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman

When I left my job, one of my bosses (I had probably 3 bosses, which did not make life easy) handed me The Imperfectionists as a gift at my office's going-away party. Since I don't really read book reviews and therefore know nothing about Tom Rachman's novel, my first thought was quite defensive: What are you trying to tell me here, huh?? Then my co-workers told me that this book is actually pretty perfect for me since it chronicles the lives of the staff members of an English-language daily newspaper in Rome. After devouring the pages (figuratively, not literally - I read it in a day and a half), I can only hope that the fates of the book's characters is not what I have to look forward to.

Tucked inbetween the chapters of The Imperfectionist is the origins story of the paper, of how it was conceived by a wealthy business man who kept his passions and motivations a secret, even from his own family. Meanwhile, each chapter follows a staff member, and there is even one devoted to a faithful reader of the paper. Beginning with Llyod Burko, a freelance writer past his prime whose children from his four ex-wives refuse to have anything to do with him, Rachman sets a seriously depressing tone that is only lifted during moments of dry newspaper humor.

There is Arthur Gopal, an obituary writer who gets by with doing minimal work; Craig Menzies, a news editor who hates his job and is disrespected because the entire office knows that his girlfriend cheated on him; Hardy Benjamin, a business reporter whose name seems to be the only thing about her that commands respect as she seems willing to contend herself with mediocrity; Kathleen Solson, the editor-in-chief who reacts with indifference to the realization that her husband has cheated on her and contemplates a dalliance with an old, now-married boyfriend; Abbey Pinnola, the financial officer who has to wrestle daily with the corporate company over layoffs, and then finds herself sitting next to the copy editor she just fired on a flight to Atlanta.

Truly, the only person who seems remotely happy with his existence is Herman Cohen, the corrections editor. Though portrayed in the beginning as a crotchety old man who nitpicks on the mistakes that appear in the paper, he is the only one who is happy, without compromise, with his life at the paper and at home. (By the way, Herman's entry in the newspaper's style book for the word "literally" reads: "This word should be deleted. All too often, actions described as 'literally' did not happen at all. As in, 'He literally jumped out of his skin.' No, he did not... Eliminate on sight.")

All of which made me very nervous and apprehensive while reading this. I'm old enough now to know that happiness is relative and is often a work in progress throughout my adult life. It's bad enough that the journalism industry stereotypes perpetuate that every working journalist is either an alcoholic or a drug user who has probably been divorced three times. But to see all these characters portrayed as cynical, un-self-aware, sad, desperate - well, it made me wonder what the up side is to my chosen profession.

Probably the most depressing part of this book concerns its protaganist, the unnamed newspaper. It was disheartening to read of the newspaper's glory days under the first and second publisher, while alternately experiencing the sad encounters of the individuals who are now running it into its eventual demise (Oops, spoiler. But you probably saw it coming.) While reading this, I kept aching for more - more of a closure for many of the characters, more happiness for some of the saddest, un-self-respecting individuals, and just more of the newspaper lore. This is a well-written and poignant novel, but if you are a journalist, it doesn't give you much hope.

Country Living/Leaving

This was where I spent most of my weekend.

I went to my uncle's house in upstate New York, and it was wonderful just to get away from the city, if only for just 24 hours. I arrived there Friday night, slept in a bedroom that was built in the 1700s (and was just a bit disappointed that I wasn't awaken in the middle of the night by ghosts), biked along an old rail trail on Saturday afternoon and spent time playing with my little cousin. Then I was on the 7:45 p.m. train and whisked back to the city.

My uncle, his daughter and his wife

When I arrived at Port Authority, I made my way to the ACE. Some guy violently bumped into me and I looked up (from texting, of course), annoyed, and glared at him. He quickly apologized, and instead of saying, "It's ok," I snapped, "Dude, watch where you're going." I instantly regretted being rude but didn't know how to take it back. The kid was younger than me, looked like he was from out of town and looked seriously freaked. He disappeared before I could figure out an appropriate way to apologize.

Perhaps I've been in New York a little too long? Six years ago, I would have accepted that apology without a second thought; yesterday, I had to bite my tongue from saying something inappropriate.

I suppose these thoughts are only natural since I am actually leaving the city. I am leaving the country, to be more exact, on May 1 to Cambodia for a new job. I am absolutely thrilled/nervous/thankful for this opportunity and jumped at the chance when it was offered – but a part of me wondered if I was ready to leave this city I love so much. An old friend of mine said once, "I don't think people should leave New York until they absolutely cannot live here anymore." Her reasoning was that if we left before we were ready to, we'd always keep coming back, searching for that new shiny life, and being disappointed over and over again. It's a little bleak, for sure, but it's difficult to take an optimistic point of view when city living can beat you down with the high rents, high expenses and rude people (Exhibit A: me.)

On the other hand, I could also argue that the people of New York, be them transplants or actual locals (not an urban myth by the way), are some of the best people I have ever met. There are so many that are genuine and interesting and weird and strange and hardworking and good – I have become much more open-minded to so many different types of people, and I am always able to see the goodness in them. They (we – because as my uncle said, I am a New Yorker, even if I'm not) can be brusque and a little rough around the edges. But what you see is what you get, and if you don't like it, we really don't care.

My favorite quintessential New York Summer photo. Taken in 2007, I think.

So no, I'm not quite ready to leave here yet. But I am so ready to start on my new gig. Anyway, I'll always be back.

CBRIII #8: Eight Lives Down by Chris Hunter

The tagline for this movie – Oops, I meant book, is "The Story of the World's Most Dangerous Job in the World's Most Dangerous Place." Does that answer your questions as to what this book is about?


The author Chris Hunter brings his compelling account of his time in Iraq as an IED disposal operative. Hunter is in the British armed forces and started in England with his experience with the IRA bombers, deployed later in Colombia and Afghanistan, and finally, in Basra, Iraq. His unit in Iraq was constantly being called into the field to investigate potential bombs, defuse IEDs and collect forensic data to track down the bomb makers. In two months, his team managed to successfully defuse 45 bombs. Eventually, word got around about a man with "golden hair" ruining every single plan that the insurgents have, so they started targeting him, taunting Hunter with bombs that made him feel like he was always walking into a trap.

In between the tense accounts of facing combat fire from unknown attackers and crawling through sweltering desert heat in heavy protective gear to get to a bomb, Hunter talks about the camaraderie between the men in his unit, as well as his marriage troubles that come from having a high-risk job.

The writing actually isn't great, but it's personable and honest enough that I can actually imagine certain thoughts going through Hunter's head as he deals with each person, and boy is he a sarcastic, sardonic man. The subject matter is what really elevates the writing – every ride out of the camp seems to end like the final ten seconds before a bomb blows in a movie. It's incredibly exciting to read and really gets your heart rate to overdrive. I also really enjoyed the stories about how the team functioned together and the jobs of different people. I love Hunter's interactions with people who are career soldiers as it gave me a look at the mentality and problems that come with having sustained contact with such a world.

Usually, I try to alternate my books between fun fiction and serious non-fiction. After I got done with this, I thought, "Maybe it's time to read a politics book, because that book was way too much fun to count as serious non-fiction." Seriously, this book was a ride.

If you care to hear more from Hunter, check out this interview with him. I was really surprised by how he looked. This man seems more like a pencil pusher than a bomb disposal operative. Just goes to show, huh.

CBRIII #7: In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

Everyone but me has read this book, and I'm so glad I finally took the time to sit down and curl up in bed with it. In Cold Blood is a tautly-written account of a gruesome murder that took place in 1959 in the small town of Holcomb, Kansas, and the after effects this tragedy had on the townspeople. Weaved in through the present narrative, Truman Capote also deftly and sympathetically retells the histories of the two killers, Dick Hickock and Perry Smith.

(Funny story: I had actually picked up my copy while volunteering at a company-wide book sale. My job was to sort books into different sections based on subject and I was wandering back and forth between History, Crime and Fiction. My colleague asked if I was going to buy it and before I could answer, she said, "It's so good. Don't read it at night." On my way to a different section, three other people said the same thing, yet could give me no clue as to where I should shelf it. So I bought it.)


In Cold Blood makes it clear from the beginning that this is no mystery. It's not a whodunit or even a thrilling chase for the killers. What makes it so compelling is really the motivations behind the murder of four members of the Clutter family, and how it could manifest in two individuals who – despite being criminals and having served time in the clink – have good, human kindness in them. While reading this, I kept confusing Dick and Perry, and by the end had them fused in my mind as two sides of a schizophrenic killer. Even when I had them straight, each person just seemed so realistic that it made me uncomfortable. Dick who cared dearly for his family and was funny and personable in such a way that everyone who first met him was greatly taken; and Perry was thoughtful and intelligent, and he looked out for his friends and took comfort in their opinions. The fact that these two individuals could come together and brutally kill a family for no clear reason other than that they wanted to "leave no witnesses" confounds me.

Meanwhile, the small town of Holcomb has to cope with the murders. Before it was clear that the murderers were from out of town, the townspeople kept a wary eye out and their front doors locked. One part that stood out for me was when the lead detective of the case, Alvin Dewey, went to the local diner for a meal and a cup of coffee, and he was confronted by a local accusing him of basically not doing his best to find killers. The man said that he wasn't voting for Dewey in the next county-wide sheriff election, and Dewey's response was to throw back another cup of coffee like it's a shot of whiskey (That's how I pictured it in my head). The townspeople are so scared out of their minds that they cannot see reason, cannot even recognize that the Clutter murders have consumed Dewey, pained him and run him down and affected even his family life. I felt so much sympathy for the detectives working on the case because they felt the pressure of these murders more than anyone else in Holcomb.

In Cold Blood was truly a bittersweet experience. It brought me so much pleasure to read and yet also made me so sad. I hated Dick and Perry's actions – hated Dick's manipulation and his constant deriding of Perry; hated Perry's inability to see anyone's point of view but his own, his crippling myopic selfishness – but could also see the good in them. I was sad that they were executed in the end, yet also felt that their reckoning took so long to come. By the end of it, I felt like I was on some weird, emotional ride that actually happened. This is real, this is history... yet it's also fiction. Capote's reporting is impressive but he is a true manipulator. He really is the master of the sleight of reality.

CBRIII #6: Naked Heat by Richard Castle

So I caved and bought the second book that ABC put out for Castle. I got the first book, Heat Wave, a year ago and liked it because the only criteria for enjoying it is that I enjoy Castle the TV show.

I also enjoy Captain Tight Pants.

Naked Heat is pretty much a parallel to the beginning of the third season of Castle. Jameson Rook is being ignored by Nikki Heat and her other detectives because he wrote an article that was overly laudatory of Nikki, and failed to recognize that detective work is a team effort that takes a lot of grunt work. As a result of the article, Nikki has been dealing with the unwanted aspects of celebrity, with people gawking at her when she's trying to investigate a crime.

Celebrity seems to be the theme as the latest murder victim is a Six-Page-style writer that dishes dirt on celebrities. Cassidy Towne is reviled by famous people for her scathing, yet truthful, take downs of them, so Nikki has plenty of suspects on her list when her body turns up in her apartment with signs of having withstood torture. Rook is allowed to ride along on this case again because before Towne was murdered, he was following her to ride an article about the life of a gossip columnist.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, a second dead body of a truck driver turns up. The team hits a dead end on this case but, as is usually the case with these stories, the two cases are actually connected.

"I aim to misbehave."

On the personal front, Jameson Rook is not winning any fans in the police precinct. Both the Ryan and Esposito characters (no, I'm not going to look up their names in the book because - what's the point? Same people!) are pissed at Rook for revealing personal, sensitive information about them in the article; and Nikki is pissed that Rook had featured her, and her personal life, so prominently. There's a lot of frosty, punn-y exchanges but of course, in the end, Nikki warms up – or should I say, heats up – to him.

"Oh, I'm going to that special hell..."

Though the plot of this book was better than the last one – and I didn't see the ending coming! – I really should stop reading these Castle books. No, seriously, I need to not buy these books anymore just because I like watching the TV show. Because reading a 200-plus-page book where these characters are mimicked is not the same as watching a silly murder/mystery procedural where Nathan Fillion acts like a complete charming doofus. Sure, Castle is fluffy popcorn, but at least I know it only lasts an hour. With these books, I just feel like I could have had a better experience having actors read lines onscreen versus seeing the back-and-forth being performed stiltedly on page. Some serious TV-watching time was wasted, in my opinion. (For instance, I could have rewatched Firefly.)

Verdict? The plot is good (the writing could use some serious editing though); and the reveal is pretty killer (I'll stop, I'll stop). But it would have still been better on TV. Because everything is better with Nathan's cute smile.

"I really am ruggedly handsome!"

CBRIII #5: Boiling Mad: Inside Tea Party America by Kate Zernike

Late last year, I had the chance to attend a talk by Kate Zernike in which she discussed her book, Boiling Mad, with Frank Rich, the New York Times columnist, and Sam Tenenhaus, the NYT Book Review editor who is also a historian. It was extremely illuminating because Zernike had been following the Tea Party beat for the Times since it started soon after Obama's election, and she was able to give a very measured and analytical view of the Tea Partiers. This is very different from how one-note the media has been covering them, whether if it's their portrayal as uber-patriots or as a political punchline.

Also interesting to me was how she was reluctant to say that the rise of the Tea Party can be attributed to racism. When questioned by a black man in the audience about how Obama's skin color could have something to do with the rise of a predominantly white party who say things like, "Take back our America," Zernike stuck to her guns and said that though racism is probably an unacknowledged motivator, the catalyst was really the depression and economic crisis.



In Boiling Mad, she remains steadfast in her reporting that the number one reason for the existence of the Tea Party is because of the failing economy, but that does not mean she ignores the elephant in the room. Probably the first thing she tells us is that the Tea Party, as a whole, is not a united party. They may have bonded together under that label because of the economy or their dissatisfaction with the president, but their desires differ so much from county to state.

There are contradictions within the movement, and the Tea Partiers themselves are aware of it. A 62-year-old Tea Party supporter may be at a town hall protesting the growth of government during the bank bailouts, saying that the government has expanded too much and are infringing on an American's rights – and yet be reaping the benefits of Social Security, while acknowledging that she might one day be on Medicare because of heart trouble in her health history. The younger Tea Partiers tend to be strict constitutionalists, believing that the government should only step in where the Constitution allows it – yet anyone who reads the constitution the way a creationist reads the Bible will have reconcile themselves with slavery and oppression of women. The younger supporters' main beef is on the spending of taxpayers' money on programs and bailouts for large corporations that they believe should fend for themselves.

More than anything, Boiling Mad served as an insight into individual Americans who feel like their government had failed them. My reactions while reading this ranged from having an almost anthropological interest (at least in how it would affect the US political landscape) to wanting to throw the book across the room. Though my political sympathies tend to lean to the left, I am open-minded conservative points of views. However, some of the claims made by Tea Party supporters were just flat-out wrong. Every time Zernike chronicled someone saying that health care should come from charity and not from the government because Americans are the best people in the world, I wanted to pull my hair out. (Also another Tea Party-ism: "America has the best health care in the world." Have they never gotten sick?) And perhaps that might not be flat-out wrong and could be subjective, but I thoroughly disagreed with their philosophy of stamping their feet like petulant children when they cannot get what they want.

Zernike is extremely, painstakingly fair to the Tea Partiers – but even her efforts to remain objective cannot hide the fact that this movement is made up of dissatisfied people who just want what they want, regardless of what others need. When a Tea Partier says (and this is repeated oft throughout), "It's the We the People movement and my representative does not represent me!" one has to wonder how the representative got voted into office. According to Zernike, there are several zealots who quit their jobs or got laid off and decided devote their time entirely to organizing rallies and protests and "spreading the message"; but one has to wonder how they can be protesting on the failing economy when they are doing nothing to keep it going. They call themselves hardworking Americans yet they seem only to be working hardest at the yelling and screaming.

This book was at times infuriating, at times illuminating, and always engaging. Zernike is dealing with a very difficult topic and she did a great job straddling the line between objectivity and criticism. I was hoping my review of the book would portray the Tea Partiers in as fair a light, especially after reading the book. But since knowing more about them, I've actually come away disliking the movement more than I did before.

As a palate cleanser to the image above, here is the poster I made when I went to the Rally to Restore Sanity. Thanks to a Pajiban who came up with it!

CBRIII #3 and #4: Fire Catching and Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins (Spoilers ahead!)

I finished the final books of The Hunger Games trilogy in the course of 48 hours, just burned right through them. I know that everyone and her mother has read this trilogy, but just bear with me here. I should add that there are probably spoilers ahead for the first book if I am to describe the last two books.

The Hunger Games trilogy takes place in the futuristic world of Panem, a nation that consists of the Capitol and 12 districts. The 12 districts are under the oppressive thumb of the Capitol, headed by the cruel President Snow. Every year, in memory of a past revolution that failed, the Capitol organizes The Hunger Games, which takes 2 children, male and female between the ages of 14 and 19 (I think) from each district and throws them into a battle arena where they have to kill each other until one victor emerges. The Hunger Games serve as a reminder to the districts that the Capitol's power extends even to children's lives. In the first book, Katniss and Peeta from the 12th district, the poorest section that is a producer of coal, are chosen to go into the Games.

Fire Catching

Katniss and Peeta have both emerged victorious from the Games. The Capitol sees their survival as an act of rebellion from Katniss but as long as Katniss and Peeta act like they are in love, President Snow will allow them to stay alive a little longer. The reasoning is that Katniss had unknowingly ignited a rebellion with her defiance and now she must pretend her actions were because of her love for Peeta, not because of her anger at the Capitol.

After the Games, Katniss and Peeta have to do the victory tour around the different districts, and Katniss is able to observe that there is unrest in Panem. During the tour, Peeta proposes marriage to Katniss, and she accepts. While all of this is going on, she is also harboring feelings for Gale, her old hunting partner back in 12th.

Despite the show that Katniss and Peeta put on, the Capitol still announces that the 75th annual Hunger Games will actually be between previous victors from each district, which means that both Katnniss and Peeta will have to go back into the arena and fight for their lives again.

Mockingjay

The 13th district, which was thought to be bombed and dead during the Revolution but has actually been growing underground and planning an overthrow of the Capitol, has rescued Katniss from the arena of the 75th Hunger Games. Apparently, her mentor Haymitch had kept the rebellion's plans from her, and as a result, Peeta has now been captured by the Capitol. Whether Katniss likes it or not, she is the symbol of the rebellion, and the 13th district would like her to take on the role of the Mockingjay to show the strength of their side. Once again, she is just a pawn in some elaborate game that she cannot see the end and she does not like that feeling. Katniss is also preoccupied by thoughts of the Capitol torturing Peeta and is afraid that her Mockingjay status will endanger him.

I know that these are young adult books, but they really are very graphic and gruesome. It's not just the subject matter, it's also the descriptions. There are physically gruesome plot points, like all the teenagers killing each other, but what stuck out more to me is how heartless these characters are portrayed. Take Katniss, for example - she is the main character and supposed to be the most sympathetic, and yes, I do like her very much, but Collins has no qualms showing how self-centered she can be.

On the flip side, what I think I might like best about Katniss is how honest she is about her motives. She usually acts before she thinks, but after the fact, she would look back at her actions and wonder why she did what she did. The answer is not always pretty but for a 14-year-old teenage girl, she's incredibly self-aware. And I think that a protagonist like her is something that a lot of young adult books lack.

CBRIII #2: The History of Love by Nicole Krauss

How does one describe The History of Love? It's one of those post-modern, hipster-favorite books that starts out with two different threads of narratives with an adjoining element until the tendrils end up meeting. Here, the two stories seemed so random that the beginning of the book kind of threw me off. What kept me interested was Krauss' writing - she really has a very beautiful way of putting emotions into words - and though the payoff by the way wasn't as monumental as I was hoping, I am still very happy that I read it.

The two main stories are shown from the points of view of Leo Gursky, an old Jewish man who escaped the Holocaust when he immigrated from Poland, and Alma Singer, a 14-year-old girl who was named after every female character in the book, "The History of Love," which was given to her mother by her father. Alma's father passed away many years ago and her mother's been hiding under her grief ever since. One day, her mother, a book translator, received a letter requesting her to translate "The History of Love." Of course she accepts, and Alma plots to find the writer of the letter for her mother; she is trying to cure her mother's sadness.

I mentioned earlier Krauss' way with words. To describe Alma's mother's sadness, she wrote:

Once Uncle Julian told me how the sculptor and painter Alberto Giacometti said that sometimes just to paint a head you have to give up the whole figure. To paint a leaf, you have to sacrifice the whole landscape. It might seem like you're limiting yourself at first, but after a while you realize that having a quarter-of-an-inch of something you have a better chance of holding on to a certain feeling of the universe than if you pretended to be doing the whole sky.

My mother did not choose a leaf or a head. She chose my father and to hold on to a certain feeling, she sacrificed the world.

See what I mean?

As for Leo Gursky, he is an old man who has basically ghost-walked through life because he lost his only love. He's a real odd ball. His only friend is Bruno, he likes creating diversions in public just so that he can feel like he's not forgotten and he stalks his son that was conceived with his lost love, who does not know his real father. He is also working on a book, though it's not clear why except that he wants to be writing.

I'm not sure what else I can say without giving anything away. Admittedly, I was a little slow on the uptake while reading it, but I enjoyed the careful unraveling of narratives. Though I was hoping for some outpouring of happiness or some sort of emotional catharsis from these very sad characters, it didn't happen.

As a final note, I want to add that the reason why I picked up this book was because her husband is Jonathan Franzen Foer and I've heard say that Krauss is actually the stronger writer. Comparing them, I definitely like her writing better, but I think I prefer Foer's plotting. I know we shouldn't compare writers just because they are married to each other, but it's kind of difficult because The History of Love was really, really similar to Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. In both books, there is a young protagonist who is introverted and precocious looking for a lost parent and there is an older character trying to find his lost love. This similarity wasn't only caught by me, and when asked about it, both Krauss and Foer said that they worked on their novels separately and were actually done with it before they met.

CBRIII #1: War by Sebastian Junger

Sebastian Junger (left) and Tim Hetherington in eastern Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley.
(Credit: Courtesy of Tim Hetherington)

Right around the time that Restrepo was released in selected New York City theaters, Sebastian Junger's book, War, was published. No doubt this book is the literary companion to its cinematic counterpart, directed by both Junger and Tim Hetherington, a videographer and photojournalist (and the movie is now available to watch instantly on Netflix). However, with War, Junger is not just looking at a platoon stationed in the most dangerous outpost in Afghanistan, the Korengal Valley. He is also exploring the nature of combat warfare and has divided his compelling account of the months he spent embedded with the second platoon of Battle Company (part of the 173rd Airborne Brigade) into three parts: Fear; Killing; and Love.

Though the book is very expansive and I took my time reading it, I've decided to distill my review to what was most memorable to me in each section. These are not necessarily specific to the Second Platoon's combat experience, but is more often a general look at a soldier's mentality.

For example, in Fear, Junger describes some of the studies done to combat soldiers to figure out what goes on in a human being's body when he is in a high-stress situation, as combat soldiers are apt to be in. A study involved measuring the amount of cortisol – a hormone secreted from the adrenal gland during stressful times that sharpens a person's mind and concentration – in soldiers' blood and urine several times a day during a period which the platoon braced themselves for an expected attack. They had received intel that the overwhelming force would likely lead to their base being overran by the enemy. As the fateful day of the attack drew closer, the study found that the men's cortisol levels dropped. This was surprising as one would expect that their adrenaline levels would be higher as they anticipate this attack. However, when the supposed day of the attack passed without an incident, the cortisol levels started rising rapidly. As it turns out, these men were more at ease facing a known threat than facing an unknown one.

I found this interesting, since behind this is a concept of courage. Being highly-trained individuals whose sole purpose is to kill, these men are able to push aside their fear when they know that there is a fight coming, even if it is highly probable that they would be defeated. A mark of a good combat soldier is not about being unafraid in the face of danger, but being able to still function like a combat soldier despite feeling scared to death. "There are different kinds of strengths," wrote Junger "And containing fear may be the most profound, the one without which armies couldn't function and wars couldn't be fought (God forbid.)"

In Killing, Junger confesses one aspect of war rarely talked about: War is exciting. Soldiers and journalists don't want to play up that part of it because of the horrors it visits upon nations, men and families, but there is no thrill or high quite like it for combat soldiers. Many of the men in the Second Platoon talk about how they are not sure they will be able to return to civilian life after their deployment is up because there is a great disconnect between being caught in an enemy's crossfire and doing something mundane like balancing your check book. Thriving on the constant adrenaline rush, it would be difficult for them to find a normal day-to-day job that sates the need of feeling accomplished. There were many questions raised about a combat soldier's future after the war, but really no answers.

It is also in this section that Junger highlights the bravery of Sergeant Salvatore Guinta, the recipient of the Medal of Honor, which is the military's highest decoration for valor. In 2007, Guinta was patrolling at night in the Korengal Valley with his platoon, about 18 people, and they were ambushed by insurgents. The ambush is known as an "L-shaped ambush" and can result in a handful of men wiping out an entire platoon if done effectively. However, under intense gunfire, Guinta was able to properly assess the situation to save his platoon mates and prevent one of them from being taken by a Taliban fighter. Below is a 60 minute interview with Lara Logan after Guinta received the Medal of Honor:



And here is an interview with Stephen Colbert for some levity.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Salvatore Giunta
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog March to Keep Fear Alive

Though the platoon suffered casualties – the man that Guinta saved from the insurgent died shortly after – this was considered a victory because no one was taken during this ambush.

Stripped to its essence, combat is a series of qick decisions and rather precise actions carried out in concert with ten or twelve other men. In that sense it's much more like football than, say, like a gang fight.

Which leads me to the final section, Love. As brutal and destructive combat warfare is, it is also impossible for a platoon to succeed if the men are not ready to pledge their lives for one another. Throughout the book, Junger describes some of the physical tussles that these men get into (for example, a way to welcome a soldier into the platoon is by ganging up on him and beating him to a bloody pulp) and the insults they toss at each other. But at the end of the day, when faced with the pressures of an insurgent attack, these men are ready to put themselves in danger if only to stop the enemy from shooting at their friends. This paragraph will explain it better:

Combat fog obscures your fate – obscures when and where you might die – and from that unknown is born a desperate bond between the men. That bond is the core experience of combat and the only thing you can absolutely count on. The Army might screw you and your girlfriend might dump you and the enemy might kill you, but the shared commitment to safeguard one another's lives is unnegotiable and only deepens with time. The willingness to die for another person is a form of love that even religions fail to inspire, and the experience of it changes a person profoundly. What the Army sociologists, with their clipboards and their questions and their endless meta-analyses, slowly came to understand was that courage was love. In war, neither could exist without the other, and that in a sense they were just different ways of saying the same thing.

I'm really glad I read this book, if only because now I have more of an insight into a combat soldier's mind. Compared to The Forever War by Dexter Filkins, Junger focuses more on the soldier and the ins and outs of combat warfare. There are some tidbits of how his role as a reporter plays in the platoon (such as when they offer him a gun to use for protection or when he wrestles with the notion that whether or not helping to throw a grenade means a line has been crossed) but overall, Junger does not dwell on his personal introspection. He also does not bother with the politics of the war, be them American or Afghan, and his storytelling does not wander far from the Korengal Valley. In this narrow, tightly-paced account, Junger is not only able to show these young men as ruthless, cussing, killing machines, he is able to to connect all the terrible parts of this war to love. And that really is something.

The photo above shows an American bunker in the Korangal Valley, June 2008.
(Credit: Courtesy of Tim Hetherington)