While reading Guibert’s memoir I did not have the same sense of connection and emotion that I felt while reading Maus, but rather felt a greater distanced from the story and storyteller. In Maus I felt that the transitions between the past and present provided the characters with a personality to connect with and create a rounded identity. In reading Alan Cope’s story I feel the terse language necessary for comic books does not lend to the narrative, but for me stood out as choppy and detached. The first time I did gain a greater sense of Cope and an overall cohesion of the novel did not occur until page 252. In describing the name of the largest sequoia, General Sherman, as “too bad for the tree” (252). In a story based upon Cope’s life surrounding the war I found page 252-253 the most telling of Cope’s commentary on the war and his life that I overlooked or maybe was lost in the earlier pages. I feel that these pages bring to light that this is a memoir of a part of Cope’s life, but not of his entire life. The war did not define Cope’s life, but was a major component of the relationships he built, career paths, etc. And in looking at page 253 where the tree is represented as a large white expanse, contrasting with the dark tree trunks we see on the adjacent page suggests that maybe this may be an illuminating moment for Cope as well as the reader? This confrontation with a physical representation of war (the name of the tree) and life (the conversation held with the tree shows this connection) seems to prompt a clarity Cope had been searching for; a clarity to return to Europe, the place of his combat experience, but in a new role not defined by the war. Does this return show that the war actually show that the war is not a part of his life, but rather has defined his life?
Category: Week 9 – Alan’s War
Alan’s War Told With Unaffected Ease
Emmanuel Guibert’s bio narrative Alan’s War is about a regular guy who embodies decency whether surrounded by stupid, stressful, or inhumane conditions. It seems to me that his expectations in life are minimal and his appreciation for considerate treatment, gracious. Even though his tastes and outlook mature throughout the novel, Cope basically remains the down-to-earth individual who trusts his instincts rather than what people tell him. I consider Cope a reliable narrator; he reports on his numerous successful encounters with strangers and servicemen and well as his secrets such as looting a watch (145) from an evacuated home in Germany, and contracting crabs (34). His style is direct, his vocabulary escalates, and his affinity for languages is clear. Comments about his personal adult life are either censored or not included.
This week’s tweets seem strongly dissatisfied with Alan Cope’s voice, hearing it as boring. What I found remarkable in reading Alan’s War was the substantial ability to take boring or potentially inane topics and treat when with careful attention, making them read as if the subject was talking or reading aloud. This is a skill.
The comfortable cadence of Alan’s narrative demonstrated genuine voice. The further along I got into the book, the more I appreciated the tone and point of view. It was evident that throughout the timeline that Alan did not take himself too seriously and remained perpetually optimistic that the result of his unintended actions would be seen from an objective perspective. From the beginning, Alan’s normal behavior netted him good results. After his train to Fort Knox leaves the newly drafted servicemen idle and without a commander, Alan goes along with some buddies in search of something to eat.
Returning to their train car they are surprised to find it gone (19). The stationmaster steers them to a train to New York City where they can catch a connection south. This mundane explanation is not remarkable nor are men’s expectations of getting back to their destination. However, two spontaneous depictions during that interval stand out.
Cope tells an anecdote about how they spent their time in New York climbing 102 floors to the top of the Empire State Building, eating for free at a servicemen’s club, and seeing a jazz band at Radio City Music Hall (22). The illustrations depict the show’s electric sign pretty much as it looks today and the Observation Deck of the Empire State Building is drawn prior to the installation of the glass guard walls. Chronologically, it ends up to be a lucky day for the soldiers told in an unsophisticated tone with brilliant ease.
In three panels, one with an aspect-to-aspect transition, Cope simply outlines the logistics of current train travel (20). With a brief six-line explanation lettered in white on a black background, Cope demonstrates his sincerity and skill writing about the “electric pen.” Logically and thoroughly he lays out a who, what, when, where, and why account of technology he had never seen before. I admire the mental flexibility that enabled Cope to concisely explain this early version of the ipad-like device in simple terms. His candid ability to relate those extraordinary moments in his life (burrowing deeper into a foxhole and holding this rifle so the barrel would not snap off and impale him, as tanks drove over the road above (25-26)- during peacetime) with unaffected ease is what I enjoyed most about Alan’s War.
Deb Kogon