UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SANTA CRUZ BLOOD WINGS: FEELING WAR IN THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY A dissertation submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in LITERATURE by Brenda Sanfilippo June 2014 The Dissertation of Brenda Sanfilippo is approved: _________________________________ Professor Wlad Godzich, chair _________________________________ Professor Susan Gillman _________________________________ Professor Murray Baumgarten _________________________________ Professor Todd Presner _____________________________ Tyrus Miller Vice Provost and Dean of Graduate Studies Copyright © by Brenda Sanfilippo 2014 Table of Contents Abstract . v Acknowledgments . vii Introduction . 1 I. Representing the Global War on Terror . 20 II. Methodology . 37 Chapter One Writing Invisible Wounds: Toni Morrison’s Home . 45 I. Causes and Consequences . 52 II. Treating the Unseen and Unspoken . 55 III. Writing Wars . 65 IV. Forgotten Wars, Then and Now . 80 V. Conclusion . 87 Chapter Two “The Days of Rambo are Over”: Women and War in Meg McLagan and Daria Sommers’ Lioness, Lea Carpenter’s Eleven Days, and Ha Jin’s Nanjing Requiem . 91 I. Women on the Battlefront . 109 II. Women on the Homefront . 126 III. At Home in a War Zone . 136 IV. Conclusion . 151 Chapter Three The Ace of Bloods: Lives Unled and Affective Truth in Ian McEwan’s Atonement and Ben Fountain’s Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk . 154 I. Fictions and Atonement . 167 II. Buying into War: Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk . 173 iii III. IV. Conclusion . 182 Chapter Four “The Real War Will Never Get in the Books”: Authenticity and Affect in Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker, and Video Games. 186 I. Sacrifice: Saving Private Ryan . .195 II. Speed: The Hurt Locker. 204 III. Skill: War Games . 219 IV. Conclusion . 228 Conclusion: Beyond Blood Wings . 230 Bibliography . 235 iv Abstract Blood Wings: Feeling War in the Twenty-First Century by Brenda Sanfilippo Although currently still engaged in the longest war in U.S. history, the military is comprised of only 1% of the U.S. population. In the absence of conscription, most Americans are isolated from the experience of combat and limited in their affective connections to war. Despite these limited geographic, psychological, cultural, aesthetic, and affective connections, the costs of war are coming home. Since 2001, more than 7,000 U.S. troops have died; 50,000 were visibly wounded; and more than 500,000 suffer from invisible injuries such as PTSD. These human losses only begin to index the effects of the wars on returning servicemembers, their families, and the larger civilian population, as rising rates of military suicide, domestic violence, sexual assault, alcohol and substance abuse, and homicide point to a larger crisis in which the homefront and battlefront are increasingly merged. In this dissertation, I analyze how contemporary war novels, cinema, and post-cinematic media try to bridge the “military-civilian divide” through the affective conditions of war. My central claim is that the traces of war can be found not only in the content but also in the form of texts such as Toni Morrison’s Home (2012), Ha Jin’s Nanjing Requiem (2011), and Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker. I argue that v these text’s hybrid forms, which transgress boundaries of fact and fiction, generate war’s multiple affects within the fictional textual world and in the real audiences who read or watch them. These texts help to bridge combat experience and civilian ignorance by appealing to affective states both in the characters and the audience. To better understand the effects of modern war’s changing spaces, times, tactics, strategy, and weapons, I analyze texts that represent both the battlefront and the homefront. By bringing together different scales of representation and affective resonance, we can see the war stories that are often neglected and better understand how to engage with and heal a new generation of war wounded. vi Acknowledgments I am grateful to many individuals for their dedication, vision, and support of this dissertation. I thank firstly my fantastic committee members and mentors, Susan Gillman, Murray Baumgarten, Todd Presner, and Wlad Godzich. All believed in my project from the beginning--even as the pool of texts was still limited--and have encouraged me to see where it might lead. My writing owes much to Susan, whose unstoppable energy and enthusiasm pushed and inspired me every day. Murray is nothing less than my model for the best of academia. His incredible generosity as a teacher and scholar has inspired my own collaborations with others. Many years ago, Todd first introduced me to thinking about war and literature. The methods and scope of this project have been powerfully shaped by his insights and questions. Finally, I deeply thank Wlad Godzich for his patient, honest, and generous advice over many years. I could not have written this dissertation without his willingness to read many muddled drafts and his brilliant suggestion to pursue a nascent area of war literature. Outside of my committee, I have learnt much from many others at UCSC. While many faculty members have shaped my thinking and learning, I especially appreciate the early support I received from Loisa Nygaard, Mary-Kay Gamel, and Kirsten Silva Gruesz. Each of them encouraged me to develop projects that ultimately shaped this dissertation. In addition, my friends Ariane Helou and Keegan Finberg provided thoughtful comments on early and very rough stages of my work, for which I am grateful. vii I also received invaluable support from my family. My parents urged me to pursue an education when no one else in my family had. In particular, I thank my mother, Cathy Wiser, and my mother-in-law, Patricia Giordano, for their many hours helping out at my home, from graduate school admissions to the final edits of my dissertation. I could not have completed this project without them. My father, Howard Wiser, and in-laws, David Sanfilippo and Jean Bourne, also provided ongoing encouragement and help throughout this process. My thinking about war really began in 2004, when I first met the men of the self-titled “Combat Wombats,” better known as 3rd Platoon, A/1-508 IN, 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team. These men welcomed me into their Army family with warmth and humor. Two were killed in Afghanistan in 2007. This project is for Blaney, who once walked me home to make sure I was safe, and Big J, the big man with an even bigger heart. Your lives were too short, but no one who knew you could ever forget you. Above all, I thank the two people who have lived with this project every day. My husband and best friend, Matt Sanfilippo, provided new materials and tirelessly consulted on current military weapons, tactics, and strategy. He also ensured that I had the time and space I needed to write. This dissertation would not exist without him. And though he did not always understand what I was doing, I thank my son, Noah, for his willingness to let Mom work. For Noah, I write this in the hope that you may live in a world that does not ask you to go to war. viii Introduction “War is hell, but that’s not the half of it, because war is also mystery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love. War is nasty; war is fun. War is thrilling; war is drudgery. War makes you a man; war makes you dead.” --Tim O’Brien, The Things They Carried What is a blood wing? Blood wings refer to the unofficial initiation rite for soldiers who complete the elite U.S. Army Airborne School. During this controversial but prestigious ceremony, a soldier receives a wing-shaped Parachutist Badge from an instructor. Instead of pinning the badge to the soldier’s uniform, the instructor places the badge, pointed back uncovered, on the shirt. While the backless pin rests in the shirt, the airborne instructors and fellow graduates take turns punching the badge, forcing it into the skin beneath. The soldier’s shirt hides the wound. This bloody ceremony marks the ideal soldier both physically and symbolically as one who can suffer pain willingly, silently, and secretly, without crying out or otherwise acknowledging it. The true soldier, in this world, is willing to suffer without speaking, as the secretive and exclusive nature of the ceremony adds to its prestige and allure. To receive blood wings, a soldier must be willing to sacrifice his body for intangible military values like honor, comradeship, and bravery. But behind the wings lie hidden streams of unseen and unspoken blood, known only to those who 1 have been there. The ceremony marks the soldier as the ultimate insider, as few outside the military know about blood wings, and increasingly few within the military have received them, as the process has been banned as a form of hazing. The blood wings are performative and metonymic—that is, you get blood wings only by getting blood wings, as the small puncture of the pin comes to stand for the larger hole of the bullet. In short, blood wings symbolize a larger epistemological gap in which soldiers often will not or cannot speak their pain and civilians, for their part, want to be protected without thinking about the blood that lies beneath the uniform. Blood wings, then, are a metaphor for military service—a marker that both instrumentalizes and disguises violence. As of this writing, the United States is still engaged in the longest war in U.S. history. Currently, that war has lasted for nearly thirteen years, beginning with the invasion of Afghanistan on October 7, 2001. It will continue, depending on the results of ongoing negotiations with the Afghan government, through 2016 at best and, in more dire estimates, through 2024, for an astonishing fifteen to twenty-three years of war.