Mike Sager is on a quest. In the collection of articles presented in Wounded Warriors, Sager seemingly invites the reader to observe the course of this hunt, and perhaps even to participate in a small way. While it is unclear what Sager is chasing after, he is hard at work looking for it, and at times it seems to be chasing him. Beginning in the end and jumping around, the reader watches as Sager obsesses about drugs, discovers his paternal instincts, is lured into the cult of Brando worship, and generally hangs out with all sorts of ne’er do wells, their antitheses, and everyone in between.
Well, not everyone. It is no surprise that Sager focuses on the male characters in each of his articles. Women are everywhere, but they are only tangential to the activities and states of the men in this collection. One example is of the fixation on the dishabille of Marlon Brando's women that Sager developed, first clothing then disrobing them in his story. The decision seems solely dependent on his relationship with Brando. The marginalization of the women is not ill begotten; it merely feels like a byproduct of Sager’s being a man.
In his articles, Sager connects with each of his characters in a unique way. Simultaneously occupying a transitory role and assuming omnipresence, Sager haunts each subject’s life and story. Sager seems to strive for acceptance, and so he becomes something different to each of his subjects, and at times nothing at all. Sager is always transient, leaving once acceptance is gained. He finds his material then he beats a path out of town. Sager himself recognizes the deceit, and seems to battle with his profession’s need for these contradictions and the exploitative nature of his writing.
It's alright Mike, we understand.
Review by Elisheva Zakheim