Sunday, September 27, 2009

Review of "Where Men Win Glory"



I’m surprised I didn’t strain my neck reading Jon Krakauer’s “Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman.” Nearly every chapter caused me to shake my head in disbelief: disbelief as to what really goes on in politics and war. I think most us of suspect there are instances of deceit, poor decisions, cover-ups, and lies at the governmental and military levels. But Krakauer forcefully moves these suspicions into the realm of concrete facts through solid research and interviews.

Krakauer’s prologue starts in Afghanistan and recounts the fateful trek of Pat Tillman’s last hours and the debacle that led to his death at the hands of members of his own platoon, his brothers-in-arms in the Army Rangers. From there, he gives background information on the Afganistan-Soviet War of the 1980s and also the rise of known terrorist and Taliban leaders such as Osama ban Laden, Muhummad Omar, and Jalaluddin Haqqani. I appreciated knowing this background history; it helped me better understand not only the rise of terror networks, but also how the U.S. provided financial and weapons support to nascent terrorists who would later use those “gifts” against us. Some previous reviews of this book have criticized this historical information and perhaps expected more of a sole focus on Tillman. But I counter that it’s critical to understand the region’s history before we can understand how Tillman ended up in Afghanistan in the first place. Perhaps a person already well-grounded in Afghan history would find this section unnecessary. But, as he’s done with his previous books such as “Into the Wild” and “Into Thin Air,” Krakauer writes for the common person and illuminates a time and place few of us are familiar with.

Krakauer sets up a parallel story right away. He weaves in information about Tillman while at the same time letting us know what’s going on in Afghanistan. At times, the lead-ins to this device become a little repetitive. For example, many sentences start with “While Pat was [insert action—graduating high school, playing his first game as a Cardinal, etc.], back in Afghanistan…” It seems a little forced, as Tillman and the events in Afghanistan don’t converge until Pat enters the Army in 2002.

Krakauer adds depth and emotion to the one-dimensional image of Pat Tillman that exists in many of our minds. Ask people to describe Pat Tillman, and unless they are NFL fanatics, likely they will only say, “Oh, he was that football player killed in Afghanistan.” No doubt much of the public might still believe the initial story of Tillman that was released: That he was killed by the Taliban while throwing himself in the line of fire to protect his platoon. The real story—that “friendly fire” killed him—wasn’t released by the military until more than a month after his death. The news was purposely delivered on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, engineered to be released when news operations generally are short-staffed and when the public’s attention is diverted elsewhere. The news bloomed for about a day, and then quickly disappeared.

A complete picture of Tillman is revealed. There’s no doubt that this was a “good guy,” someone who believed 100 percent in honor, courage, and doing the right thing. But Krakauer points out Tillman’s foibles, too—a fight during his senior year landed him in juvenile lock-up for a month and nearly jeopardized his college football scholarship. But he quickly matured during college and set himself on the right path. We get a glimpse into Tillman’s mind through journal entries that Krakauer includes. Tillman was a curious man, eager to read tomes written by Noam Chomskey and Homer. But that doesn’t stop him from writing honestly and conversationally in his journals, which are punctuated frequently by colorful language.

Krakauer exhibits the power of observation and turn of the phrase we’re accustomed to in his work. From the prologue: “Up there on the heights, far above the gloom of the valley floor, the otherwise barren slopes were dotted with graceful Chilgoza pines still washed with sunlight, their silver bark and viridescent needles glowing in the fleeting rays.” Or, “There was even a view of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, which arched through the mist over the eponymous strait like an image from a dimly remembered dream.”

Krakauer read through the thousands of pages of military testimony in the wake of Tillman’s death. In the last part of the book, he boils down that information into readable prose. Readers get a sense that he’s passing judgment, but he also makes it clear throughout the book that unfortunately, the “fog of war” can cloud decisions and friendly fire incidents will continue to occur. But it’s as if he’s saying there’s a right way to deal with these tragic accidents, and there’s a wrong way. This 380-page book thoroughly describes the wrong way.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Where Men Win Glory

Date: Saturday, Sept. 12
Place: Mankato Barnes and Noble

Me: "Is the new Jon Krakauer book in?"
Tim: "I don't think so. We should be getting quite a few in, but I haven't seen anything. Let me look."
Tim looks on the computer.
Tim: "It's out on Tuesday, otherwise known as 'Dan Brown Day.'

So today, on "Dan Brown Day," I went to Barnes and Noble to pick up WHERE MEN WIN GLORY, Krakauer's book on Pat Tillman. I generally devour anything that Krakauer writes. I have only read the prologue so far, but I'm hooked. I shake my head in wonder as to how Krakauer can take a generally complicated subject and word it in a way that I understand. His account of the "friendly" fire attack that took Tillman's life is journalistic, yes, but also includes beautiful turns of the phrase.

For example: "Up there on the heights, far above the gloom of the valley floor, the otherwise barren slopes were dotted with graceful Chilgoza pines still washed with sunlight, their silver bark and viridescent needles glowing in the fleeting rays."

It's writing such as this that sets Krakauer above the mere journalistic.

The New York Times critic didn't like the book very much. But Krakauer is my new Stephen King. Both have proven themselves, and as a result, perhaps editors are afraid to tinker too much with their manuscripts. This is a rare case in which I don't care about overinflated and lengthy tracts. If someone is going to overwrite, I'll read them if they can a) write a fantastic story (like King) or b) use words in the way that Krakauer uses words. In those two cases, all is forgiven.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Doctor-imposed rest means writing time

The bad news: I crashed in a major way on my bicycle on Labor Day. Hit the pavement going about 18 mph. I went to the hospital to get checked out, and I found out I managed to pop a hole in my lung. The hole repaired itself almost immediately, but I was left with some air around my left lung. I was hospitalized overnight -- my first ever hospital stay! I was hoping to hold off as long as possible. I got to go home the next morning, but that air won't totally disappear for about another week. In the meantime, I can't exert myself. For someone who exercises 6-8 hours a week, this is incredibly hard.

My plan for Sept. 12 was a century bike ride with my hubby and friends. I'm so disappointed I won't be able to do it. I didn't cry when I crashed, or after (I think I have a high pain tolerance!), but not being able to do what I want is what makes me want to cry.

The good news: Not exercising 6-8 hours a week frees up some writing time! I plan to spend a few luxurious hours on Saturday working on the memoir. I work full-time (usually more so), so my free time has to be split between exercise and writing. As bad as this is for a writer to say, I put priority on exercise. Feeling good and healthy just makes the rest of my life run more smoothly. As happy as I am while I'm writing, I could not be a happy writer if I felt fat and lethargic.

Monday, September 7, 2009

The turn of the colors




Biking this Labor Day weekend was awesome. Well, except for biking on Labor Day itself, but let's focus on the positives, shall we?

Like this incredible scene of early September in rural Minnesota. This particular spot is only about seven miles from my house. This was the first time I really noticed the subtle shifts in color that signal the coming of fall. Certainly the golden colors were there before Friday, were they not? But in my car I'm less apt to notice them. On the bike, however, at a slower pace, a whole new world seemed to pop out in front of me. And it was glorious, absolutely glorious.

Inside I shout with glee, for autumn and winter really are just around the corner.