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