Censured by some critics for its brutality but heralded by others as a modern-day classic, Sympathy for the Devil is a terrifying, intoxicating journey through the violence, madness, and insane beauty of battle. It traces the story of a hardened Green Beret named Hanson, a college student who goes to war with a book of Yeats's poetry in his pocket and discovers the savagery within himself.
In this extraordinary novel, we follow Hanson through two tours of duty and a bitter attempt to live as a civilian in between. At one with the lush and dangerous world around him in Vietnam, Hanson is doomed to survive the landscape of devastation he encounters. Sympathy for the Devil contains some of the most vivid, finely etched prose ever written about the actual process of war—from firing a weapon for the first time in battle to the moment a young man knows that he has entered a living hell and found a home....
Ordinary Seaman (deck hand) on merchant ships age 19-21. Special Forces (Green Beret) Sgt. in Vietnam, 1969-1970, 2 Bronze Stars. Police Officer, Portland, OR. Police Bureau, 1972-1976. NEA Grant for Fiction Writing, 1976 #1. MFA in Fiction Writing, University of Montana, 1978. Police Officer, Oakland California Police Dept. 1983-1984, resigned after 15 months to write Sympathy for the Devil, 1st novel. Assistant Professor of English at UTEP, El Paso. Creative writing instructor, UCLA. Screenwriter, New Line Cinema for four years, working with Director John Milius. NEA Grant For Fiction Writing, 1990 #2. Assistant Professor of English at BSU, Boise, ID, seven years. Night Dogs, 2nd novel, a NY Times Notable Book of the Year. Winner, French .38 Special Award for best novel of the year. Currently in Santa Fe, NM finishing Green Sun, 3rd book of the Hanson trilogy. Note: Only person in history to be awarded 2 NEA Grants + Two Bronze Stars.
Sympathy for the Devil is a brilliant look at the war in Vietnam as seen through the eyes of one very literate Special Forces soldier. Like the war itself, it's a nasty, brutish, profane examination of the way in which men approach combat and at the ways in which it affects and transforms them.
The protagonist, a "college boy" named Hanson, was drafted into the war three years into his college experience, as was the author, Kent Anderson. And having had the opportunity to hear Hanson discuss his experiences in the war, it's clear that much of this book is based very closely on those experiences.
It's not a pretty sight. And it's clear that, while Hanson and his closest compatriots may be fighting for a variety of different reasons, patriotism and a belief in the American mission in Vietnam have little or nothing to do with it. Mostly, they're fighting to protect each other and because to a large extent, they've become intoxicated by the experience of war. They have virtually no sympathy for the South Vietnamese soldiers whom they are supposed to be assisting in the war. They don't like them; they don't trust them; and they think that the South Vietnamese forces are lazy and generally useless.
The same is pretty much true of the officers and politicians who lead their effort, most of whom appear to be interested only in advancing their own careers and other interests at the expense of the troops they command. From beginning to end, from Basic Training to the end of Hanson's second tour, this is a harrowing, beautifully written and gut-wrenching ride that builds to an unbelievable climax. Although a novel, this book has the solid ring of truth, and it's probably the best book I've read yet about the war in Vietnam. 4.5 stars.
Blood-drenched madness, rich with detail and suffocating in its intensity, Anderson has taken the traditional war novel and dipped it in napalm just to watch it shrivel and burn. There’s really nothing else like this. The psychotropic finale of Apocalypse Now comes close in tone, but Sympathy for the Devil goes deeper into the heart of darkness. There isn’t much of a plot, and the structure is only discernible from a distance, but Anderson’s writing lives and breathes on the page in a way we rarely see. Hanson, college boy turned green beret, could have been a cliche, but in Anderson’s hands, he’s as real as you or me. Every detail is carefully considered and somehow right, even as Anderson paints a picture of an alien landscape where nothing makes sense, where nothing lives for long, where the characters come to find comfort amid chaos and violence only because they’ve come so far from their human beginnings. More than anything, this is a story of of an inhuman war that has the effect of dehumanizing its warriors to the point where they’re barely recognizable as people. Morality plays no role. Neither good nor bad, just chaos and death, loyalty bred by proximity and shared trauma, the line between us and them drawn shockingly thin and, it turns out, that line was probably imaginary to begin with. The ending of this book... is as far gone as anything I’ve read. The horror is so excruciating it’s almost numbing... but no, it’s still plenty horrific. I wouldn’t recommend this to just anyone. If you’re built for this kind of thing, where dark curiosity overrides reason and you feel that inner twinge that makes you need to know the things you shouldn’t know, this will take you right up to the edge and drop you on the other side.
I rarely binge on these types of books, but this was too good not to continue the tale: next up, I plan to read Anderson’s police novel, Night Dogs, and hell, I’ll probably plow through his brand new one, Green Sun after that.
Full review to follow, but this is a great Vietnam War novel that is up there with Matterhorn and The Things They Carried All written by authors who experienced the conflict.
Comparing war books to one-another is a futile endeavor, and should probably be discouraged, since every individual's war experience feels different to him, regardless of how similar the broad details are to the next man's tale. That said, the temptation is always there, and for whatever reason it seems several orders of magnitude greater when it comes to Vietnam war books, and it gets even more contentious when it comes to the movies (people will damn-near get in bar fights when talking about "Apocalypse Now" versus "Platoon" vs. "Full Metal Jacket" for reasons beyond me).
I've said that to say this: I've read hundreds, maybe thousands of books about the Vietnam War. This is one of the deepest, darkest, and most honest. It reveals those dangerous secrets that Michael Herr ("Dispatches") and Gus Hasford ("The Short-Timers") talked about. There are some home-front scenes interleaved between the war chapters, but they're short and used mostly to establish how the difference between the civilian world and the War was like the gulf between mankind and Mars (back when putting a man on the Moon was a big deal). The bulk of the novel follows a "college boy" named Hanson who decides to make life as hard on himself as he can, by putting himself in the most dangerous, violent, and remote portions of Vietnam's northern mountainous region with an elite unit. He goes on patrols, takes speed, drinks beer, blows stuff up, kills people, watches people and animals die, as his instincts sharpen to a razor-edge. At one point perhaps he loses his mind.
The book takes its time to unfold, and, like a bad trip, the gravity of what Kent Anderson has shown the reader sinks in slowly. It isn't until the bloody broth is truly cooking at some point near the end of the second act, beginning of the third, that Anderson really springs the trap. His ear for dialogue makes it feel like you're listening to a recording rather than reading pages, and his descriptions of action and violence made my heart change rhythm and reminded me of my time in the Army (though I didn't go anywhere near the ring of fire Anderson seemed to have danced in). The author's sense of place and time (both stateside and in "Vit Nom" as Lyndon Johnson would have it) was ironclad enough for me to feel nostalgia, as if I were reliving someone else's memories (maybe my Uncle who was in the war) as I read along. Highest recommendation, but if you've got bad PTSD, be careful because this one reminds you of the sick pleasure, the natural sadism that comes out when you've been scared for too long a sustained period, as well as the sadness. This book is filled with cruelty, but if it were just a litany of evil it wouldn't be great. And it is.
The Vietnam War which ended close to forty-four years ago seems to recede further and further into our collective memory as time moves on. Over time this movement has been slowed by the appearance of numerous novels that depict the horrors of the war and its tortuous effect on those who fought in southeast Asia, and the civilians who suffered and died. The best of these novels, many of which were written by former soldiers include; Philip Caputo’s A RUMOR OF WAR, Stephen Wright’s MEDITATIONS IN GREEN, Tim O’Brien’s THE THINGS THEY CARRIED, and more recently, Karl Marlantes’ MATTERHORN. All of these works depict the insanity of war and the outright lies associated with America’s experience in Vietnam. In considering this genre, Kent Anderson’s SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL should be added to the list as it witnesses the cruelty, duplicity, and disgust that soldiers experienced when they were supposedly fighting a war in defense of American national security.
From the outset, Anderson’s novel depicts the hypocrisy of the war as American troops get ready for a surprise presidential visit. Further, he describes how American troops cross over into Laos to conduct a bomb assessment, a euphemism for a body count after illegal B-52 strikes in a foreign country. Anderson tells his story through the eyes of SGT Hanson, who enlisted in the army after three years of college, volunteered for Special Forces, completed a tour of duty in Vietnam, and then reenlisted for another tour when he could not readapt to civilian life. Hanson is a fascinating character as he becomes a hardened combat veteran he continues to carry a book of Yeats’ poetry with him as he engages the enemy.
The first quarter of the book introduces Hanson and his buddies and how they viewed their experience in Vietnam. Anderson’s characters include, Hanson, the main protagonist; Quinn his buddy on both tours, a mean and violent individual who excels at gathering souvenirs from enemy bodies; Kitteridge, a senior supply NCO who built a profitable empire reallocating equipment away from their assigned destinations; Silver, a short and wiry individual who spoke fast and walked with a slight limp; Mr. Minh, a Montagnard tribal leader who studies of katha allowed him to make predictions that usually proved to be true; Lieutenant Andre, Hanson’s first field commander who enlisted while in law school; Warrant Officer Gierson, a pompous man from Texas who loved to hear his own voice, and lastly, the crazy SGT-MAJOR, who Hanson looked up to as a father figure and taught him how to stay alive.
One of the most important aspects of the book are Anderson’s observations about the war that comes across through the dialogue between characters. One of the most haunting is how in America one witnesses children crying all the time, while in Vietnam, children never shed tears no matter how much horror they experience. Another is how the Vietnamese try to Americanize themselves in order to please GIs and make a profit-by altering the looks of women making them appear more westernized, the type of music they choose, and the language they expressed. When GIs returned to the United States they were spat upon, cursed, and in general treated quite poorly, particularly Hanson who could not deal with this type of reception and decided he felt more comfortable and accepted in Vietnam. What is very unsettling is the way Americans viewed their Vietnamese counterparts. For men like Quinn, they were lazy and to be despised. It reached the point that Americans only relied on themselves as they did not trust their Vietnamese allies to fight. Further, they were aware of the hatred between the Montagnard tribesmen and the Vietnamese but saw the tribesmen as individuals who could be relied upon and they became true allies that could be trusted.
An interesting aspect is the realization by American troops, Hanson, Quinn, and Silver in particular how it soon became clear that inflicting and overcoming pain, and the possession and disbursement of power were the keys to survival. As Hanson experienced the war the real world made less and less sense to him, and the world of combat elevated his comfort level as he developed what he saw as a skill – the ability to kill, which reflected power.
The issue of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is front and center in the novel. Even before Hanson arrives in the US after his first tour there is evidence of PTSD as he hides a Russian pistol he had taken off an NVA body. His rationalization is that for “eighteen months he never went anywhere without a weapon, he was not going to start now.” Hanson comes to realize that he is always angry and makes one wonder if it is the war that “pisses him off” or is it something deeper. Once Hanson’s emotional state is laid bare Anderson returns to why Hanson enlisted in the first place and what it was it like to join the military. The author’s discussion of induction and basic training is standard US Army harassment, humiliation, and demeaning of people for fresh troops to lose their individual identity and become more of a unit. Anyone who has experienced this preparation for combat will not be surprised or possibly disturbed by what they read. It still seems that all drill instructors must have gone to the same school of language and psychological training that still rings in my ears almost fifty years later. The racism, hatred and lack of empathy are standard practice and drove one GI to try and commit suicide, but for Hanson it created a mindset on how he would survive. He decided that he did not want to go to war with bullies, sadists, and cowards. As a result, he underwent training for the Green Berets and extended his tour.
Anderson’s novel presents a remarkable destruction of a person’s sense of self. Hanson seemed to be a somewhat adjusted individual when he left college and joined the army. As his military training and experiences evolved his personality began to deteriorate as he succumbs to the evil he witnessed, and his more empathetic traits receded into the background. As Lt. Andre had stated the war held “no mistrials, no court of appeals, things are final.” For Hanson his return to Vietnam for his second tour after his negative experience back home became his security blanket and it was reflected by his actions and comments.
The final episode Hanson experiences in Vietnam is right out of the films, Platoon and Apocalypse Now, reflecting the outright absurdity of war, and the callous way it was approached by the United States. If that was Anderson’s message to his audience, he effectively transmits it. The novel is a gripping look at Vietnam, its effect on those who fought it, and is a remarkable addition to those books that have come before it that have similar themes.
I read a LOT! Check out my profile if you don't believe me. But this was the single most entertaining novel I have read in years. Horrifying. Intense. And laugh-out-loud funny at times. Just a lost gem in a sea of novels. How is this book and this writer not more well known. I only found out about Kent Anderson through and off-hand comment George Pelacanos made in the afterword of one of his crime novels. What a delightful find. Can't wait to read Night Dogs, the next Anderson book about Hanson.
Vivid in it's detail and powerful in it's story. This was certainly written by a man that was there and it wouldn't surprise me if it was semi autobiographical. This is a story of the Vietnam War, but more than anything how war, any war, ultimately changes a man. The main character, Hansen, is a college kid when he ends up getting drafted and sent to Nam. During boot camp he realizes, that because of his education and the fact that he can type, the Army is going to assign him to clerical work or as an officer's aid. During training he observes a group of special forces soldiers and he realizes how much different they are from the drafted men. He decides then and there that he wants to be a part of this fraternity. The thing that Hansen doesn't understand, but will very soon, is that only killers will survive and a killer he does become. As the war begins to take it's toll and as men die his feelings change and he ultimately realizes that no matter what happens he is doomed to survive the war.
This is a tough book. It's tough in that it guides the reader to discover poetic and haunting beauty in a hellish warzone. The elite Green Beret character Hanson is very human. Like many artistic renderings of America's war in Vietnam, Sympathy For The Devil blurs the line between memoir and fiction. In the end though, it doesn't matter. Conflicts create warriors like Hanson who thrive in combat and diminish in peace.
Es complicado encontrar buenas novelas bélicas. Esta lo es. Vietnam, los boinas verdes...muy entretenida. Cruda. Increíble que no estuviera traducida hasta hace poco.
That tag line is trite to say the least. Anderson's first book, and a total scorcher. This is, I guess, what it was really like, written by someone who was there (check the author photo in the back.) I paid 125 bux for this and it's worth every penny and then some. If you like Michael Herr's "Dispatches," or Tim O'Brien's Vietnam stuff, this goes about 10 miles deeper into the core, way way across that line to the point where madness/right/wrong don't really exist....
El protagonista es Hanson , álter ego del autor, que luchó en esa guerra y cuenta la historia en primera persona. El libro está dividido en tres partes, la primera es cuando Hanson es universitario y le llega una carta de reclutamiento para luchar en Vietnam. Le visten de camuflaje durante un año y le enseñan a matar y a que no le maten. Sus compañeros son chavales como él, los que por estadística, cuando aterricen en Vietnam morirán en las primeras semanas, cosa que no le hace mucha gracia a Hanson y cuando termina la instrucción se alista voluntario en las Fuerzas Especiales donde recibe un adiestramiento de élite durante otro año que le permitirá vivir durante más tiempo. Ya en Vietnam relata la fuerte amistad que consigue con sus compañeros a base de una convivencia siempre al filo de la muerte. Realizando misiones, muchas fuera de la legalidad y de los tratados de derechos humanos con el consentimiento del gobierno americano. La segunda parte es año y medio después cuando termina su servicio y "vuelve a casa". Contento de dejar la guerra y volver a la normalidad se encuentra con un rechazo brutal de la sociedad hacia soldados como él, aparte de que psicológicamente vuelve hecho papilla. Sus comportamientos de estar constantemente en "alerta", asustandose con casi cualquier ruido, peleándose por cualquier absurdez no le ayuda en nada y no tener ningún tipo de apoyo institucional tampoco. Sólo ve una solución y a las pocas semanas está subido en un avión de vuelta a Vietnam. La tercera parte relata esta segunda vuelta y deja caer como funciona la guerra, todo movido por intereses (económicos, políticos, electoralistas, incluso personales del poder americano en todos sus niveles) Les da igual las bajas personales con tal de seguir consiguiendo sus dosis de poder y dinero. Un libro duro, tenso que me ha hecho conocer esta absurda guerra desde un punto de vista diferente a Rambo o apocalypse now. Me ha gustado la forma de escribir del autor con todo tipo de detalles que te traslada a esas selvas agobiantes sudando y apartando mosquitos.
Novelón¡¡¡ Kent Anderson, veterano del Vietnam condecorado con dos estrellas de bronce y ganador de dos becas nacionales de escritura creativa...también trabajó de policía...en sus experiencias se ha basado para el personaje de Hanson, protagonista de tres de sus novelas, esta primera como soldado de las fuerzas especiales en Vietnam. En las otras dos, nights dogs (todavía sin traducción al castellano) y la tercera Sol Verde, Hanson ejerce de policía en Oregón y L.A. Qué puedo decir...es como tener Platoon, Apocalipsis Now, Corazones de Hierro, y la Chaqueta Metálica en una novela ... narra con total crudeza la experiencia de Hanson en Vietnam, pero no es acción pura y dura....Comienza cuando siendo universitario se alista para el ejército regular, posteriormente en vez de ir directamente al frente, se alista en las fuerzas especiales con otro periodo largo de formación, y ya es destinado a un puesto avanzado en la zona desmilitarizada desde donde comandos de fuerzas especiales realizan operaciones ilegales cruzando la frontera de Laos para atacar a las fuerzas del Vietnam fuera del pais....el shock de la guerra cuando fuera de un periodo de servicio vuelve a EEUU y decide realistarse, puesto que nada para él tiene ya sentido en su país fuera del mundo militar... al leerla estás mascando Napalm, degustando el agente Naranja, oliendo a marihuana mientras las balas trazadoras pasan por encima de tu cabeza...diálogos brutales, episodios de violencia cruda y descarnada... qué novelón¡¡¡ ... imprescindible para amantes del género bélico.
It has been some time since a book’s ending shook me the way this one did. I had already mentally given this book five stars, but after the ending I would give it six. It is a fascinating look at the life of a Green Beret in Vietnam. Truly engrossing narratives of training, violence and the most simple, beautiful explanation of the seductiveness of war I have ever read. Anderson does an incredible job of sucking you in and then, in a matter of a few pages, pulls back the curtain and blows you away.
Very much a journey through the looking glass and down the rabbit hole. Many authors who experienced military service in Vietnam make attempts to supply some kind of context to give the reader's perception a moral compass with which to keep their bearings. They make an attempt to not alienate the reader from the protagonist. Anderson doesn't do so. The semi-fictional characters in his book that represent his personal experiences as a special forces operative in Vietnam seemingly (sorry if I'm wrong Mr. Anderson) revel in the often pointless savagery in which they they engage. Be it a skirmish in the jungle or a bar fight with other American servicemen, their civilized veneer is often shed like dust under a heavy rain. They are men utterly transformed and warped by their experiences, aware of the changes that they endure but, rather than fighting against them, allow themselves to be seduced by power that the exercise of direct violence brings. They almost gleefully bring that violence to which they are accustomed to those who are not. In short, Anderson rubs the reader's nose in his experiences, giving the impression he's saying, "yes, this happened to me and I sometimes liked it even if often I didn't." So thank you for being honest Mr. Anderson. After approximately 25 years of political correctness, it's refreshing to read someone who says what they think and feel instead of merely trying to comform to collective expectation.
Visceral narrative of two tours of duty during the Vietnam War, as well as the failed attempt to readjust to civilian life in between, as told through the eyes of a Green Beret. Can't wait to read the next two books in the trilogy.
No tengo especial afición a las aventuras bélicas, aunque de vez en cuando cae alguna. Esta es sobre la guerra del Vietnam. Con su recluta patoso, su sargento instructor sádico, mandos trapicheros y soldados petaos, “Compasión por el diablo” nos ubica en esa escenografía que nos recuerda a tantas pelis sobre el tema y que no versa tanto sobre el conflicto en sí, sino en cómo ese conflicto deshumaniza a quien participa de él.
El protagonista, Hanson, es un universitario que, contra pronóstico, parece encontrar su vocación en el ejército, en la guerra, en contextos violentos; se le da bien, mucho mejor de lo que se esperaba. Se codea con los tipos más duros de su batallón y no se escaquea cuando le toca estar en primera fila. Por el contrario, en la vida civil, no volverá a ser el mismo. Durante los permisos se mete en peleas continuamente, no disfruta con nada, no aguanta a nadie. Añora el frente, el peligro, la supervivencia… quiere más sangre, y a por ella que va.
Excelente ambientación, muy sensorial, juega todo el rato con los sonidos y los olores (“queroseno, hierba quemada y metal caliente“). Se permite incluso algunos devaneos líricos, del tipo paisajístico, que contribuyen a crear una atmósfera opresiva y envolvente. Igual se excede un poco con los flashbacks.
Lo que cuenta es fuerte y parece auténtico (basado, supongo, en su propia experiencia). La novela es dura, cruel y cruenta, nada compasiva ni integradora. El racismo de sus personajes es parte esencial de la trama, así como los pasajes que describen el adiestramiento en técnicas de interrogatorio y muerte. Entiendo que tiene voluntad de denuncia, pero va dejando cadáveres por el camino.
Kent Anderson's "Sympathy for the Devil" is not for the squeamish, nor for those who think Apocalypse Now was the most real saga of the Vietnam war. It's a brutal view of that war at the micro level, as it follows a young man, a college kid at a time when anyone in college was trying to avoid the war, as he morphs into a Green Beret killing machine. If you don't care for vivid descriptions of war-ravaged bodies and other mayhem, don't pick this one up. If that stuff doesn't bother you, it's a great Vietnam war novel that reminds me how lucky I was to have had a high draft lottery number.
Sympathy for the Devil is the story of Hanson, a guy with 3 years of college and a hankering to find out what he's made of. He's inducted like everyone else, but during training sees a few Special Forces guys who resemble the type of soldier he'd like to be. He's eventually accepted into the Green Berets and the story follows him from his green recruit days until he's about as lethal an instrument as the military can create. It's an episodic story that documents his growth as a soldier via the ordinary and extraordinary efforts he and his teammates take against their enemies. It's extremely harrowing stuff.
This is a great war novel, but again not for everyone. I was finishing high school as the Vietnam war was ending and had a draft number in the 300s during the final draft year. I wasn't a hippie nor was I a gung-ho 'merican, but I'm very happy I avoided involvement in that conflict.
This is the fiction version of Michael Herr's famous Dispatches. Warning: it's raw, unfiltered, war. Our narrator is Hanson, a college guy who dropped out for whatever reason and joined the Army. Through mental and physical toughness he became a Green Beret. He is an ultimate survivor making it in a world where most of his friends die in battle. He takes his survival more seriously than others and that's why he lives to tell the story.
The timeline skips around, boot camp, leave to the states, battles, all intermixed. What I like about his writing is he takes his time. When you think he should kick it into gear he just meanders. The war details are incredible. He is open about taking trophies from victims and selling them. The narrator makes no apologies for his war crimes or those of others. He knows he's a hired gun.
The narration has zero filters. It's crazy he is telling these stories with no mention of PTSD or the psychological ravages of war. He is all show don't tell. His character learns how good he is as a soldier and at killing and survival. Along the way he loses his two closest war buddies.
This novel joins all the great Vietnam war literature. His writing is graceful and varied. I find myself wanting to know more about this character. What is behind his survival drive? How does he persevere in the madness around him?
His later novels are even better but this is literally blood and guts war stories.
I am not sure, but I think I read this on a recommendation from Ken Buren in 2004. It has stuck with me to the point that I began to think I was misremembering it. When I saw a signed ARC for sale, I snapped it up and read it as it came across the transom. Still a 5-star read.
Comparing an ARC with the published work is usually interesting. In this case, the Acknowledgements page that led off the novel had an extra line in the Advanced copy. Both have "And to all the good men of the 5th Special Forces Group, Vietnam. (Added: "Sometimes I think we could have won that war by ourselves if everyone else had stayed out of our way".) Chilling.
A strangely gripping novel. Anderson has real gift with description, and in evoking the feel, smell, and color of Vietnam. The novel is episodic rather than linear, and culminates with a bout of savage vengeance that will be hard for some to stomach. But the point, I think, is emphasize two facts: that some people are drawn to war (like the hero Hanson), since it strips all subjectivity and debate from human activity (after all, it's either kill or be killed, as Hanson says); and that war also irrevocably shapes and damages people. I wasn't sure I'd finish this one, given its hard-nosed realism and grim fatalism, but in the end I found it hard to put down.
I liked the ending, but this book seemed like it was constantly in search of a plot, finding one for short bursts, then throwing it away in the wastebasket, substituting long stretches of nothingness in between. I feel like this book could have benefited from more structure and a fully realized character arc for the protagonist. There's flashes of interest here, where the book seems like it might be going somewhere, but it never... leads anywhere.
Disappointing and frustrating. This could have been a far better book.
★★★★★★ (6/5) Un libro muy visceral sobre la guerra de Vietnam, narrado desde el punto de vista de un soldado. Eso es lo que lo hace tan bueno, esa crudeza, la insensibilidad con lo que se narra todo. Simplemente fascinante.
Lo único, si eres muy sensible y estás planteándote leerlo, igual mejor buscas otro libro. Trigger warnings: muerte, guerra, descripciones de sesos, heridas..., abuso animal, violaciones, estrés post traumático, violencia, peleas, palabrotas... (muy evidentes todas, pero por sí acaso las pongo)
This book is a thinly veiled fictional account (you will really wonder how much is actually true!) of one man's time in Vietnam. There are some interesting anecdotes but where the author fails is in not trying to explain how an intelligent college student is transformed into a stone killer. The ending is either an after the fact wet dream of getting even for a real event or a totally inane way to end a novel.
Pas franchement convaincu. Début poussif et qui ne va nulle part, puis on reprend l’introduction classique un peu plus lisible, ensuite on suit le protagoniste principal jusqu’à la fin mais avec une certaine distance - enfin là c’est sans doute plus mon ressenti personnel.
J’ai pas vraiment ressenti d’empathie pour Hanson, donc j’ai pas trop apprécié. En outre, il y a eu depuis beaucoup d’œuvres sur le Vietnam, ceci dit j’imagine qu’à l’époque de sa sortie ce roman devait détonner.