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Peace
Book by Bausch, Richard
223 pages, Hardcover
First published April 15, 2008
31 people are currently reading
1425 people want to read
About the author
Richard Bausch
92 books216 followersAn acknowledged master of the short story form, Richard Bausch's work has appeared in The Atlantic Monthly, Esquire, Harper's, The New Yorker, Narrative, Gentleman's Quarterly. Playboy, The Southern Review, New Stories From the South, The Best American Short Stories, O. Henry Prize Stories, and The Pushcart Prize Stories; and they have been widely anthologized, including The Granta Book of the American Short Story and The Vintage Book of the Contemporary American Short Story.
Richard Bausch is the author of eleven novels and eight collections of stories, including the novels Rebel Powers, Violence, Good Evening Mr. & Mrs. America And All The Ships At Sea, In The Night Season, Hello To The Cannibals, Thanksgiving Night, and Peace; and the story collections Spirits, The Fireman's Wife, Rare & Endangered Species, Someone To Watch Over Me, The Stories of Richard Bausch, Wives & Lovers, and most recently released Something Is Out There. His novel The Last Good Time was made into a feature-length film.
He has won two National Magazine Awards, a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Lila-Wallace Reader's Digest Fund Writer's Award, the Award of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, The 2004 PEN/Malamud Award for Excellence in the Short Story and the 2013 John William Corrington Award for Literary Excellence . He has been a member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers since 1996. In 1999 he signed on as co-editor, with RV Cassill, of The Norton Anthology of Short Fiction; since Cassill's passing in 2002, Bausch is the sole editor of that prestigious anthology. Richard Bausch teaches Creative Writing at Chapman University in Southern California
Richard Bausch is the author of eleven novels and eight collections of stories, including the novels Rebel Powers, Violence, Good Evening Mr. & Mrs. America And All The Ships At Sea, In The Night Season, Hello To The Cannibals, Thanksgiving Night, and Peace; and the story collections Spirits, The Fireman's Wife, Rare & Endangered Species, Someone To Watch Over Me, The Stories of Richard Bausch, Wives & Lovers, and most recently released Something Is Out There. His novel The Last Good Time was made into a feature-length film.
He has won two National Magazine Awards, a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Lila-Wallace Reader's Digest Fund Writer's Award, the Award of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, The 2004 PEN/Malamud Award for Excellence in the Short Story and the 2013 John William Corrington Award for Literary Excellence . He has been a member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers since 1996. In 1999 he signed on as co-editor, with RV Cassill, of The Norton Anthology of Short Fiction; since Cassill's passing in 2002, Bausch is the sole editor of that prestigious anthology. Richard Bausch teaches Creative Writing at Chapman University in Southern California
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 204 reviews
July 26, 2017
taught depiction of ambiguities of war and how peace is within each of us. well written and great audio book reader.
January 11, 2020
My 10th book of 2020!
This was damn good, really strong, atmospheric writing, clean and sharp. Three soldiers go up a mountain on a patrol in Italy, with an old Italian man as a guide, though one of the soldiers doesn't trust him. There's a lot of snow and rain and cold and the constant fear of being in a sniper's crosshairs. There's a bit of discussion on religion, PTSD and war itself.
Profound and moving but gives the impression of being so simple. The sign of talent, I think.
This was damn good, really strong, atmospheric writing, clean and sharp. Three soldiers go up a mountain on a patrol in Italy, with an old Italian man as a guide, though one of the soldiers doesn't trust him. There's a lot of snow and rain and cold and the constant fear of being in a sniper's crosshairs. There's a bit of discussion on religion, PTSD and war itself.
Profound and moving but gives the impression of being so simple. The sign of talent, I think.
February 2, 2025
4.5. A powerful and vivid novella. The kind of literature the word "immersive" was invented for. Set in Italy during World War 2, it tells the story of a small group of American soldiers as, led by an old Italian man with limited English, they make their way through difficult terrain (uphill, then uphill at an even steeper incline) and awful weather (freezing rain that turns to accumulating snow) to scout whether there are Nazi troops ahead. The men carry with them not only their weapons and gear but also the weight of a violent incident that takes place early in the story, and their fear, anxiety, insecurity, guilt, memories, bias, and worsening bodily pain. Reading "Peace," one can't help but feel the cold, the rain turning to snow, the confusion the soldiers feel about what's going on and whether they're lost and about to be betrayed. And then a shot comes out of the darkness, dropping one of them to the ground. Where did the shot come from? Was a German sniper trailing them in the darkness? Are they being led to their deaths?
I don't recall where I heard about "Peace." It was, I think, an article in The Atlantic or New Yorker about short works of fiction that punch far above their weight. Based on my reaction to "peace" I am moving on to the next book in the list.
I don't recall where I heard about "Peace." It was, I think, an article in The Atlantic or New Yorker about short works of fiction that punch far above their weight. Based on my reaction to "peace" I am moving on to the next book in the list.
February 23, 2020
This is one of the best anti-war novels I’ve ever read. It paints an accurate picture of the senseless insanity of war, all war, any war, anywhere and at any time.
August 3, 2009
A day in the life of a soldier on patrol in WW II Italy. Told in a combination of the day advancing and flashbacks, it is a powerful look at the thoughts, hopes, fears and interaction of a "grunt" in the U.S. Army's assault on fascist-held Italy. Very well-done mix of the trivial and the larger picture as we suffer along with Cpl. Marson and he tries to survive and make sense of it all.
October 18, 2011
As Michael Hedges might say, “War is a force that gives us meaning.” Richard Bausch’s Peace offers human character assaulted and revealed by the horror of war.
In bleak 1944 Italy, after the Cassino invasion by the Allies, a reconnaissance company stops a farmer’s cart. A German soldier and whore jump out. The German shoots and kills two soldiers before being himself shot dead by a GI. A sergeant shoots the German whore, who is screaming and struggling, even though she presents no threat to the soldiers, a murder, not an act of war.
Three soldiers are sent on a reconnaissance mission, to locate and track retreating German troops. To do this they must scale a nearby mountain, enduring hostile elements, cold, wind, rain, snow as well as a deadly enemy and uncertain local loyalty. In addition to the physical burden of completing their mission, the three carry as well a heavy weight of guilt for the death of the German whore.
A field-promoted corporal, Robert Marson, is tasked with leading two other soldiers on the mission. His is the core journey of self-discovery in this short (171 pps) but powerful novel. Marson is a devout Catholic from DC, an all American boy, a baseball star, eager to return to his wife and 13-month-old daughter.
Private Benny Joyner is a foul-mouthed, bigoted Mid-West misfit, a clarinetist born to a family of farmers.
Saul Asch is a non-practicing Jew, married to the much-older widow next-door in Boston. He suffers a recurring nightmare, from his service in North Africa, of soldiers burning alive in a shelled tank.
The three encounter Angelo, a 70-year-old Italian man with rope-soled shoes, whom they press into service as their guide. It seems likely that his English is much better than he lets on, and despite his claims not to be a Fascist, it is unclear where his sympathies lie. He promises to lead them to the mountaintop but their destination always seems to stretch away into the fog of “near.” The old man clearly serves a symbolic device as well. But is he an angel, death, the emissary of a trial-happy god, some image of an unknown future?
The three soldiers struggle against the elements, tortured by days of rain, then, as they are climbing a mountain, a shift to biting snow. Each must not only reach the top of the mountain to complete their military and symbolic mission, they are each weighted with personal challenges as well. Marson has a blister on his right heel that pierces him with each step. Joyner has a relentless problem with a severe itch of uncertain origin in his arm that allows him no rest and Asch is afraid to sleep lest he suffer again through his recurring nightmare. Even Angelo must endure a harsh, persistent cough.
Water figures prominently as a thematic device. From relentless rain to potential death by snow, water here offers a challenge to the men. It is only in an isolated passage that we see the expected baptismal rebirth.
Religion plays a major role, or faith, in any case. The Hail Mary is recited in two languages, and one dying GI asks to be baptized. When Joyner says,“Oh, Christ, why does it have to be us,” one can hear, beyond the immediate profanity, the echo of someone else asking “Remove this cup from me.” They discuss why religion is such a widespread human practice. Marson offers up his suffering to God on many occasions, a practice I remember the nuns urging us to adopt back in Catholic elementary school. It rings true here. [I did not check for the expected three days imagery, so have at it.]
The title refers not only to the outer peace, denied by war, and Marson maintaining the peace among the soldiers, but the inner peace of the characters. They all struggle with guilt over the unnecessary death of the whore and defining where their responsibility lies, but also contend with coming to terms with their young and not-quite-formed selves. Marson, older than his charges, has the most metaphysical journey.
The touch of evil, while light, teases, but prompts one to struggle
Bausch offers occasional parallels that highlight the difference in worlds. For example, both Marson and Mario have front-tooth gaps. But Marson’s came from getting hit with a baseball at fifteen while Mario’s came from being pistol whipped by a German.
Thinking about Peace gave me no rest. I kept recalling, or wondering about elements I might have missed the first time through or ones already noted that continued to resonate long after I had moved on to other books. Peace is not a lengthy book. Bausch is best known as a short-story writer. Successful short stories must be focused and condensed, trimmed of all but the absolutely necessary. This book reads like that, the density of a shorter work, but with the ambition of a larger one. Peace is a book of substance, a masterwork from a real pro.
In bleak 1944 Italy, after the Cassino invasion by the Allies, a reconnaissance company stops a farmer’s cart. A German soldier and whore jump out. The German shoots and kills two soldiers before being himself shot dead by a GI. A sergeant shoots the German whore, who is screaming and struggling, even though she presents no threat to the soldiers, a murder, not an act of war.
Three soldiers are sent on a reconnaissance mission, to locate and track retreating German troops. To do this they must scale a nearby mountain, enduring hostile elements, cold, wind, rain, snow as well as a deadly enemy and uncertain local loyalty. In addition to the physical burden of completing their mission, the three carry as well a heavy weight of guilt for the death of the German whore.
A field-promoted corporal, Robert Marson, is tasked with leading two other soldiers on the mission. His is the core journey of self-discovery in this short (171 pps) but powerful novel. Marson is a devout Catholic from DC, an all American boy, a baseball star, eager to return to his wife and 13-month-old daughter.
Private Benny Joyner is a foul-mouthed, bigoted Mid-West misfit, a clarinetist born to a family of farmers.
Saul Asch is a non-practicing Jew, married to the much-older widow next-door in Boston. He suffers a recurring nightmare, from his service in North Africa, of soldiers burning alive in a shelled tank.
The three encounter Angelo, a 70-year-old Italian man with rope-soled shoes, whom they press into service as their guide. It seems likely that his English is much better than he lets on, and despite his claims not to be a Fascist, it is unclear where his sympathies lie. He promises to lead them to the mountaintop but their destination always seems to stretch away into the fog of “near.” The old man clearly serves a symbolic device as well. But is he an angel, death, the emissary of a trial-happy god, some image of an unknown future?
a Crooked shape in brown, a hooded man with dark, thin hands…Under the hood was only the suggestion of a gaunt face in shadowMario is a bubbly-optimistic local teen eager to sell the soldiers wine. His presence is in flashback to a time in Salerno, before the company’s trial by cold, wet and hostility. He offers a freshet of youth, of life and hope as an antidote to the old guide. But when his unrealistic hopes are dashed by reality, he fades from the scene.
The three soldiers struggle against the elements, tortured by days of rain, then, as they are climbing a mountain, a shift to biting snow. Each must not only reach the top of the mountain to complete their military and symbolic mission, they are each weighted with personal challenges as well. Marson has a blister on his right heel that pierces him with each step. Joyner has a relentless problem with a severe itch of uncertain origin in his arm that allows him no rest and Asch is afraid to sleep lest he suffer again through his recurring nightmare. Even Angelo must endure a harsh, persistent cough.
Water figures prominently as a thematic device. From relentless rain to potential death by snow, water here offers a challenge to the men. It is only in an isolated passage that we see the expected baptismal rebirth.
Religion plays a major role, or faith, in any case. The Hail Mary is recited in two languages, and one dying GI asks to be baptized. When Joyner says,“Oh, Christ, why does it have to be us,” one can hear, beyond the immediate profanity, the echo of someone else asking “Remove this cup from me.” They discuss why religion is such a widespread human practice. Marson offers up his suffering to God on many occasions, a practice I remember the nuns urging us to adopt back in Catholic elementary school. It rings true here. [I did not check for the expected three days imagery, so have at it.]
The title refers not only to the outer peace, denied by war, and Marson maintaining the peace among the soldiers, but the inner peace of the characters. They all struggle with guilt over the unnecessary death of the whore and defining where their responsibility lies, but also contend with coming to terms with their young and not-quite-formed selves. Marson, older than his charges, has the most metaphysical journey.
The touch of evil, while light, teases, but prompts one to struggle
He closed his eyes and saw again the softly curved dirty legs of the woman jutting from the tall drenched grass and the Kraut with his dying green eyes, such a dark shard of green, and the red hair matted to the white forehead. The look of pure wonder. Something like a thrill went through him, horrible, and then inexpressible, gone, a feather’s touch to his soul, like something reaching for him from the bottom of hell. He looked at the others there with him in the raining dark and was afraid for them, not thinking of himself at all, and it was as if he had already died, and saw them from some other plane of existence.Peace is also presented in transcendentalist garb:
Morning had come, light spreading across the low sky. The corporal got to his feet and started back toward the road. Just before he reached sight of it, and the others, he stopped, feeling something rise in him. The rain was increasing. The wind had died. The clouds were showing places where sun might come through, or it might not. There was no sound of firing, and the river ran with its steady roar. He waited, breathing slowly.I found the characters a little thin at times, but Marson was imbued with enough humanity to keep a reader engaged for the duration.
It was peace. It was the world itself, water rushing near the lip of the bank from the storms, the snow and the winter rain. He felt almost good here. He thought of home, and he could see it, the street, those people. He had found a way back to imagining it. For a few moments he believed that he might simply stay here by this river. He wanted to. It came to him that he had never wanted anything so much. It would be perfectly simple. He would lie down and let the war go on without him, and when it was over and the killings had stopped, he would get up and go home. He thought of going off in the direction the old man had taken, of finding someplace away. Someplace far.
He turned in a small circle and looked at the grass, the rocks, the river, the raining sky with its ragged and torn places, the shining bark of the wet trees all around. He could not think of any prayers now. But every movement felt like a kind of adoration.
Bausch offers occasional parallels that highlight the difference in worlds. For example, both Marson and Mario have front-tooth gaps. But Marson’s came from getting hit with a baseball at fifteen while Mario’s came from being pistol whipped by a German.
Thinking about Peace gave me no rest. I kept recalling, or wondering about elements I might have missed the first time through or ones already noted that continued to resonate long after I had moved on to other books. Peace is not a lengthy book. Bausch is best known as a short-story writer. Successful short stories must be focused and condensed, trimmed of all but the absolutely necessary. This book reads like that, the density of a shorter work, but with the ambition of a larger one. Peace is a book of substance, a masterwork from a real pro.
August 27, 2014
1944, southern Italy. It's the closing stages of the war and the Americans are chasing the Italian Fascists and the Nazis north and out of Italy. After the American squad encounters a Nazi ambush, 3 GIs are sent with a local Italian to scout ahead of the main group up into the mountains.
But as they make their way up they begin to question the loyalties of the Italian - is he a harmless old man or a Fascist sympathiser leading them into another trap? As they ascend higher, the continuous rain becomes continuous snow, and they soon get close to the backs of the retreating army. And that's when the possibility of enemy snipers covering the retreat becomes very real to them...
I've never heard of Richard Bausch before but I was pleasantly surprised with this exciting historical novel. All of the characters seem genuine and their dialogue very convincing - Bausch is a talented writer who did his research well. The story - which takes place over the course of a single hellish night - is so vividly described that you can almost feel the punishing weather and exhaustion on the characters' souls.
There were some fantastic scenes like when the American Sergeant sets a trap for the enemy sniper and then stays behind to save his wounded men, waiting. You know that scene in Saving Private Ryan when the squad ambush a machine gun nest? This book has that energy and pace throughout.
If you're in the mood for a short read that'll keep you hooked from the first page to the last, you can't go wrong with Richard Bausch's Peace.
But as they make their way up they begin to question the loyalties of the Italian - is he a harmless old man or a Fascist sympathiser leading them into another trap? As they ascend higher, the continuous rain becomes continuous snow, and they soon get close to the backs of the retreating army. And that's when the possibility of enemy snipers covering the retreat becomes very real to them...
I've never heard of Richard Bausch before but I was pleasantly surprised with this exciting historical novel. All of the characters seem genuine and their dialogue very convincing - Bausch is a talented writer who did his research well. The story - which takes place over the course of a single hellish night - is so vividly described that you can almost feel the punishing weather and exhaustion on the characters' souls.
There were some fantastic scenes like when the American Sergeant sets a trap for the enemy sniper and then stays behind to save his wounded men, waiting. You know that scene in Saving Private Ryan when the squad ambush a machine gun nest? This book has that energy and pace throughout.
If you're in the mood for a short read that'll keep you hooked from the first page to the last, you can't go wrong with Richard Bausch's Peace.
September 4, 2008
It is rare to read a perfect work, but Bausch's Peace is indeed such a masterpiece. Set in Italy on the brink of WWII, three soldiers journey up a snow fallen mountainside on a reconnaissance mission, only to be met with the cruelty of the cold, haunting memories of innocent civilians slain, an Italian guide whose allegiance is questionable, and a mysterious sniper stalking their every move. In sparse, beautiful language--distilled and serene as the snowfallen landscape of Peace itself--we encounter one man's experience of war, and the only small corner of redemption he can find in a surprising act of mercy for his enemy.
I am haunted by this novel--I still hear its rhythm and I can only hope it carries over into my own writing, my own prose. There were moments in reading this piece when I had to step away, catch my breath--the intensity was overwhelming. Such an emotional power is only a testament to Bausch's brilliance of the small nuance looming large, casting its spell in a barren landscape.
I am haunted by this novel--I still hear its rhythm and I can only hope it carries over into my own writing, my own prose. There were moments in reading this piece when I had to step away, catch my breath--the intensity was overwhelming. Such an emotional power is only a testament to Bausch's brilliance of the small nuance looming large, casting its spell in a barren landscape.
January 8, 2013
Richard Bausch is a name most won’t recognize. He’s what you’d call a writer’s writer: a writer whose work is read primarily, if not exclusively, by other writers. Over the years, Bausch has earned a reputation as one of the better American short story writers; and over the years, I have read a number of his stories and thoroughly enjoyed them. Peace is the first novel by Bausch that I have ever picked up.
I decided to buy a copy of the book when I saw it on a table at the local bookstore and recognized Bausch’s name. When I read the back and learned that it was a story set during World War II, I was sold. The problem with the literature of war is that there are far more terrible war novels than good ones. The simple fact of the matter is that it is extremely difficult to write a work of fiction set during a war that feels fresh. In short: It’s been done before. By very good writers. Well.
Peace, tells the story of three American troops on the Italian front after the fascists have fallen and during the German retreat. In the first scene of the novel, their company comes upon an Italian hay cart. When they stop the driver and search the cart, they find a German soldier and a whore. The German soldier manages to kill two of the men in the company before he is shot. The terrified whore claws at the Americans before the lieutenant takes her aside and shoots her.
This event will haunt the three men who become the focus of the novel, most notably Robert Marson. Shortly after the incident with the cart, a second Italian is stopped by the soldiers. They interrogate him and he offers to lead them to the top of the nearby mountains so that they can scout the Germans’ position and assess what they are up against. The lieutenant sends three men with the old Italian: Private Joyner (a bigoted, opinionated meathead), Private Asch (a non-practicing Jewish-American), and Marson (the oldest of the three). Three is kind of a magic number in novels. You have one confused character, one character who represents one set of ideals, and a third who represents the opposite. The confused character is thus forced to confront two different worldviews and eventually pick one or forge his own. Guess what he does more often than not. When done well (i.e. subtly), this structure is great. When done poorly, it feels forced. To Bausch’s credit, he manages to make a familiar plotting device work nicely. It never feels on-the-nose and Marson’s moral journey is never beaten like a dead horse. Bausch manages to gracefully trace each of the men’s paths.
Where Peace stumbles, however, is precisely where almost every war novel since the great ones immediately following the war fails: Bausch doesn’t have anything new to say about war, about fear, or about morality. The scenery, the action, the dialogue—it is all too familiar. When Stephen Spielberg made Saving Private Ryan he stated that he set out to make a movie about World War II with the mindset that nobody else had made one. He consciously avoided other films about the war. That way, if his work felt familiar it would be accidental and not the result of conscious or subconscious influence. This, in my opinion, is exactly why the movie works. Spielberg manages to tell a war story in a fresh way. I’m not certain that the same can be said of Peace. Is it well written? Yes. There are lovely passages and the characters are well-drawn (if archetypal).
You can’t fault a writer for taking on the subject of war, especially not World War II. It has been said that war is our greatest subject because it contains the entire spectrum of human emotion. Few artists can resist the siren’s song of war. Sadly, just as few can give us a new take on it.
I decided to buy a copy of the book when I saw it on a table at the local bookstore and recognized Bausch’s name. When I read the back and learned that it was a story set during World War II, I was sold. The problem with the literature of war is that there are far more terrible war novels than good ones. The simple fact of the matter is that it is extremely difficult to write a work of fiction set during a war that feels fresh. In short: It’s been done before. By very good writers. Well.
Peace, tells the story of three American troops on the Italian front after the fascists have fallen and during the German retreat. In the first scene of the novel, their company comes upon an Italian hay cart. When they stop the driver and search the cart, they find a German soldier and a whore. The German soldier manages to kill two of the men in the company before he is shot. The terrified whore claws at the Americans before the lieutenant takes her aside and shoots her.
This event will haunt the three men who become the focus of the novel, most notably Robert Marson. Shortly after the incident with the cart, a second Italian is stopped by the soldiers. They interrogate him and he offers to lead them to the top of the nearby mountains so that they can scout the Germans’ position and assess what they are up against. The lieutenant sends three men with the old Italian: Private Joyner (a bigoted, opinionated meathead), Private Asch (a non-practicing Jewish-American), and Marson (the oldest of the three). Three is kind of a magic number in novels. You have one confused character, one character who represents one set of ideals, and a third who represents the opposite. The confused character is thus forced to confront two different worldviews and eventually pick one or forge his own. Guess what he does more often than not. When done well (i.e. subtly), this structure is great. When done poorly, it feels forced. To Bausch’s credit, he manages to make a familiar plotting device work nicely. It never feels on-the-nose and Marson’s moral journey is never beaten like a dead horse. Bausch manages to gracefully trace each of the men’s paths.
Where Peace stumbles, however, is precisely where almost every war novel since the great ones immediately following the war fails: Bausch doesn’t have anything new to say about war, about fear, or about morality. The scenery, the action, the dialogue—it is all too familiar. When Stephen Spielberg made Saving Private Ryan he stated that he set out to make a movie about World War II with the mindset that nobody else had made one. He consciously avoided other films about the war. That way, if his work felt familiar it would be accidental and not the result of conscious or subconscious influence. This, in my opinion, is exactly why the movie works. Spielberg manages to tell a war story in a fresh way. I’m not certain that the same can be said of Peace. Is it well written? Yes. There are lovely passages and the characters are well-drawn (if archetypal).
You can’t fault a writer for taking on the subject of war, especially not World War II. It has been said that war is our greatest subject because it contains the entire spectrum of human emotion. Few artists can resist the siren’s song of war. Sadly, just as few can give us a new take on it.
November 17, 2009
Occasionally, you encounter a story that seems as though it has been crystallized to its essence. That is my experience with "Peace," which is about peace, but also about war.
Richard Bausch starts with a straightforward story of an ugly and dispiriting moment in WWII. A squad of foot soldiers near Monte Cassino have unexpectedly rousted a German soldier and a prostitute from the back of a hay-covered wagon, and in an instant, two of the GIs are dead, the German has in turn been shot and the squad leader has executed the prostitute.
Meanwhile, a cold, sometimes sleeting rain falls constantly. As the surviving members debate whether to report the prostitute's shooting, they are ordered to do some advance scouting. What begins as just a dreary slog up a steep mountain, with bickering thrown in, soon becomes a hair-raising encounter with a sniper. And all the while, the craggy Italian they have commandeered to guide them becomes more and more ambiguous.
It is his "back story" that provides this novella's climax, which I am not about to give away.
Bausch has made these men and that landscape come utterly alive, and has shown the complexities and ambiguities of any war. Tremendous.
September 27, 2008
This book reminded me a lot of Hemingway's Farewell to Arms. They style was spare and kind of Hemingwayesque and the subject matter was similar. Just as Hemingway used rain to set a mood in his book, this author used the freezing, snowy weather to heighten the feeling of despair, misery and futility. FTA of course included a love story, and Peace includes no female characters outsides of the memory of the main character Marson, but the theme of the despair, misery and futility of war reminded me a lot of FTA. The story follows three American soldiers in Italy early in 1944 during the Italian campaign during ww2. They are on a recon mission, guided by an elderly Italian native who speaks little English and may or may not be on the other side. The book is short but very affecting and I recommend it.
September 24, 2009
Wow! I read this entire book in one sitting with just a couple of pee breaks and a banana snack! Sometimes the books with the fewest words are the most profound.
January 26, 2020
Guilt, faith, redemption, bigotry, and above all, the horror of war, are adeptly explored in this taut, beautifully rendered novel. Richard Bausch is a fine writer. 4.5 stars
A sample of critical praise:
“Every single word of Richard Bausch’s beautiful, spare new novel Peace rings darkly, tragically true.”
—Richard Russo
“Richard Bausch’s Peace, set at the end of the Second World War in Italy, is a small masterpiece with the same emotional force and moral complexity as Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and Tolstoy’s Hadji Murad.”
—Colm Tóibín
“As in his earlier fiction, Bausch is adept at capturing the cadences of everyday American speech, and the questioning of ordinary, decent men. His tense, economic prose chimes with the precise, laconic language of soldiers. The worst writing about war is either black-and-white or Technicolor. The best, like this, is in shades of gray, evoking the personal equivocations, the doubts, the discomfort and the sheer, crushing boredom and fatigue that constitute the real nature of war. Marson faces death in a titanic struggle against Nazism, but what obsesses him is the blister on his heel, the image of the dead woman’s legs in the grass.”
--Ben Macintyre, New York Times
A sample of critical praise:
“Every single word of Richard Bausch’s beautiful, spare new novel Peace rings darkly, tragically true.”
—Richard Russo
“Richard Bausch’s Peace, set at the end of the Second World War in Italy, is a small masterpiece with the same emotional force and moral complexity as Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and Tolstoy’s Hadji Murad.”
—Colm Tóibín
“As in his earlier fiction, Bausch is adept at capturing the cadences of everyday American speech, and the questioning of ordinary, decent men. His tense, economic prose chimes with the precise, laconic language of soldiers. The worst writing about war is either black-and-white or Technicolor. The best, like this, is in shades of gray, evoking the personal equivocations, the doubts, the discomfort and the sheer, crushing boredom and fatigue that constitute the real nature of war. Marson faces death in a titanic struggle against Nazism, but what obsesses him is the blister on his heel, the image of the dead woman’s legs in the grass.”
--Ben Macintyre, New York Times
January 31, 2010
The first paragraph of Richard Bausch’s novella Peace ends: “Everything was in question now.” The “everything” in question apparently refers to questions of time and geography, but is suggestive of the book’s wider theme: The moral confusion that follows soldiers into war, when all the codes they’ve spent their short lives learning are cast aside. Robert Marson, the WWII soldier who is the protagonist of this taut, gripping tale, arrives in Italy just about the time that nation changes from an Axis to an Allied power. The book opens with a war crime—an unnecessary civilian death—that fills with Marson moral anxiety; the apparent question the book will address is whether or not he will report the incident. But in war, the questions that seem important one day become irrelevant the next. Marson, Joyner and Asch—Catholic, Protestant, and Jew—are sent with an old Italian guide to climb a mountain and take a look at the retreating Germans. The characters are representative rather than complex—that’s an observation, not a criticism. And if what gives you the most reading pleasure is verbal mosaic or figurative symphony then this is not the book for you. But Bausch’s excellence in storytelling makes the book engrossing, and his economical and occasionally forceful prose makes vivid the soldier’s reality: the tyranny of weather, the agony of a blister. At some points it seems as if a reader’s mission is the same as the soldier’s: to survive the climb.
The problem Bausch poses most successfully is the distance that comes between a soldier and those he has left at home as a result of the acts he must commit in war. Marson finds a way to erase this distance at the conclusion of the novel, and there’s a certain effectiveness in the way that the book’s ending radiates toward its title. But at the same time I’m not sure how convincing I find it. Further, it’s not one of those unambiguously ambiguous endings, yet I’m unsure what view of it Bausch wants us to take—whether he wishes us to applaud or decry. If applaud, it feels a bit too easy. If decry, there needs to be more emphasis on the concept of duty earlier in the novel.
The problem Bausch poses most successfully is the distance that comes between a soldier and those he has left at home as a result of the acts he must commit in war. Marson finds a way to erase this distance at the conclusion of the novel, and there’s a certain effectiveness in the way that the book’s ending radiates toward its title. But at the same time I’m not sure how convincing I find it. Further, it’s not one of those unambiguously ambiguous endings, yet I’m unsure what view of it Bausch wants us to take—whether he wishes us to applaud or decry. If applaud, it feels a bit too easy. If decry, there needs to be more emphasis on the concept of duty earlier in the novel.
July 30, 2018
4.5 stars!
Really atmospheric, great characters and a great story built on almost unbearable tension! Would recommend!
Really atmospheric, great characters and a great story built on almost unbearable tension! Would recommend!
February 28, 2024
4.5 ⭐️
great book. so deep and powerful. i don't normally read war books but this held my attention even when things got brutal at times. simple yet very moving.
great book. so deep and powerful. i don't normally read war books but this held my attention even when things got brutal at times. simple yet very moving.
June 13, 2021
A very good short novel, full of tension and thematically rich, about a handful of GIs on a miserable and misbegotten patrol in Italy during World War II. Would very much like to revisit this one soon. 4.5 stars rounded up.
August 25, 2016
Though I keep saying I'm done with the European theater of World War II—and I do a fair job keeping my distance—I am clearly not entirely done. A favorite author writes a phenomenal book about the subject. A story about something unrelated suddenly “goes there.” It's unavoidable. Mix my desire to revisit the work of Richard Bausch and the promise of a quick read and, well, here we go again.
Peace is one of those books with a small cast of characters and an even smaller plot. Undoubtedly, some readers will dislike this story for the simple fact that “not much happens.” At 171 7”x5” pages, Peace is barely a novel, so expectations for “a lot to happen” should be relatively small.
Set in Italy in the winter of 1944, the story is largely about a group of American soldiers hiking a mountain. What makes this story spectacular is the psychology at play and the nuances of the writing. Bausch wonderfully casts a believable set of characters and right away gives each a personal demon or a quirk that plays well off of everyone else. The result is a tale where simply walking around a mountain becomes tense. Toss in the subtle haunt of the shadows across the white landscape, the dance of snowflakes in the air, the frozen remains of an abandoned soldier, and you have an intensely powerful little novel.
Despite long careers with considerable works behind them, brothers Bausch (twins Richard and Robert) remain virtually unknown to the general public. I've heard them described as “writer's writers,” and I do feel there is some truth to that. I doubt I ever would've heard of either had it not been for the recommendation of a professor and fellow writer while enrolled in an MFA program. If you're a writer and haven't yet been introduced to the Bauschs, may I introduce you. Neither is likely to become your favorite author, but you are probably going to learn a thing or two about the craft. If you're not a writer, might I suggest a Bausch short story? I think you may like the style, but starting with a relationship that requires little commitment guarantees a more amicable split if that time comes. I think you'll hit it off, though. Might I also suggest you give Peace a chance? It's short, beautiful, and haunting, and it seems to me to be a truer account of the war than most of the WWII fiction published these days.
Peace is one of those books with a small cast of characters and an even smaller plot. Undoubtedly, some readers will dislike this story for the simple fact that “not much happens.” At 171 7”x5” pages, Peace is barely a novel, so expectations for “a lot to happen” should be relatively small.
Set in Italy in the winter of 1944, the story is largely about a group of American soldiers hiking a mountain. What makes this story spectacular is the psychology at play and the nuances of the writing. Bausch wonderfully casts a believable set of characters and right away gives each a personal demon or a quirk that plays well off of everyone else. The result is a tale where simply walking around a mountain becomes tense. Toss in the subtle haunt of the shadows across the white landscape, the dance of snowflakes in the air, the frozen remains of an abandoned soldier, and you have an intensely powerful little novel.
Despite long careers with considerable works behind them, brothers Bausch (twins Richard and Robert) remain virtually unknown to the general public. I've heard them described as “writer's writers,” and I do feel there is some truth to that. I doubt I ever would've heard of either had it not been for the recommendation of a professor and fellow writer while enrolled in an MFA program. If you're a writer and haven't yet been introduced to the Bauschs, may I introduce you. Neither is likely to become your favorite author, but you are probably going to learn a thing or two about the craft. If you're not a writer, might I suggest a Bausch short story? I think you may like the style, but starting with a relationship that requires little commitment guarantees a more amicable split if that time comes. I think you'll hit it off, though. Might I also suggest you give Peace a chance? It's short, beautiful, and haunting, and it seems to me to be a truer account of the war than most of the WWII fiction published these days.
May 16, 2012
Some spoilers kinda. Nothing about plot
I feel like so little happened in this book. The author would touch on the plot for 2 paragraphs, then talk about the setting or the characters boring, uninspiring backgrounds for 2 chapters. I found myself skimming so much irrelevant information that can only be described as "filler" which was doubly disappointing as you shouldn't need that in a book that's only 171 pages. The themes the author seemed to try to introduce we're vague and weakly presented. And it all seemed so cliche. "So a Jew, a Bigot, and a Catholic walk up a mountain...". They bicker and fight until shit goes down (kinda, don't wait for any action, there's none) and they freak out about the humanity of it all and push their personal differences aside. All of this has been written a thousand times. At least give us some sort of new take or circumstance. Or I'll just settle for ANY circumstance, three guys walking doesn't count. Or at least write it in a manner that's interesting and isn't excruciating to push through. The dialogue was short and repetitive. (and one quarter of it was Italian! with literally no attempt to translate thought literary device for the reader. I had to google shit, which I mostly didn't do cause I just didn't care. Imagine being so uninterested in a book that you are OK with not understanding a quarter of the dialogue) The characters were one dimensional. The plot was barely existent. And the overarching theme or point of the book was this moving target that never ended up getting hit. He literally just says in the last page, "and he felt peace.". Yay he said the title!! There was one positive though, only 171 pages.
I feel like so little happened in this book. The author would touch on the plot for 2 paragraphs, then talk about the setting or the characters boring, uninspiring backgrounds for 2 chapters. I found myself skimming so much irrelevant information that can only be described as "filler" which was doubly disappointing as you shouldn't need that in a book that's only 171 pages. The themes the author seemed to try to introduce we're vague and weakly presented. And it all seemed so cliche. "So a Jew, a Bigot, and a Catholic walk up a mountain...". They bicker and fight until shit goes down (kinda, don't wait for any action, there's none) and they freak out about the humanity of it all and push their personal differences aside. All of this has been written a thousand times. At least give us some sort of new take or circumstance. Or I'll just settle for ANY circumstance, three guys walking doesn't count. Or at least write it in a manner that's interesting and isn't excruciating to push through. The dialogue was short and repetitive. (and one quarter of it was Italian! with literally no attempt to translate thought literary device for the reader. I had to google shit, which I mostly didn't do cause I just didn't care. Imagine being so uninterested in a book that you are OK with not understanding a quarter of the dialogue) The characters were one dimensional. The plot was barely existent. And the overarching theme or point of the book was this moving target that never ended up getting hit. He literally just says in the last page, "and he felt peace.". Yay he said the title!! There was one positive though, only 171 pages.
September 1, 2012
A superb, and near perfect ,"Peace: a novel” is a tale of three U.S Soilders set upon a hill in Italy during World War Two, along with an old Italin villager who is to be their guide. The Three Soilders sent are all different and their characters well written by Richard Bausch. The climb is not easy in freezing relentless rain then unforgiving snow. Their Italian guide speaks little English and his motives are unclear. Higher up the hill they come arcoss horros of war and their wills are tested. The main character Corp Marson remebers befiending a young Italin boy named Mario when his platoon frist gets to Italy as he and his men push up the hill, their friendship is as moving as any in fiction. The novel builds to an exiting pluse pounding show down between a sniper in the end. Throughout Peace, Richard Bausch asks the question of what the difference between killing a man in combat to survive or murdering someone because of being on edge when killing wasn’t the only option. War is horrible and men all act different during life and death situations. Is Killing ever justifiable, how does war change men and can men do the right thing in combat? Bausch tenderly examines these questions. “Peace" is a novel better written then most in a straight forward manner that stays with the reader long after the final page.
December 14, 2009
A small army patrol in Italy has been charged with the task of scouting around and finding any straggling enemy soldiers towards the end of World War II. This is much harder than it seems. The fast-paced novel mostly follows three of the soldiers and their Italian guide, a 70-year-old man whose loyalties are unknown. The reader can feel the oppresive cold rain that pours for days, followed by the heavy mountain snow. The three soldiers suffer not just from the elements but their memories of home, their regrets and the war. The three main characters -- Cpl. Robert Marson, Joyner and Asch -- are well-developed, and change through the action of the book. The ending is open, and offers little sense of closure -- but then, the war is not over at that point. It fit the story. "Peace" is hard to read at times, for -- like with the soldiers -- there's little rest from the brutal environment except when they are recalling more pleasant times. But it's honest and well-paced.
December 26, 2011
I'm adding this book to my goodreads account because I read this at least 2 years ago and it is still with me.
Inadvertently, I had recently finished *A Thread of Grace* by Mary Doria Russell. Sitting these two stories side by side just about blew my brain. Same setting, different viewpoints. A-mazing.
Told from a U.S. soldier's view, it is near the end of the war and he is tired. So tired. And yet he is assigned yet another mission of recon. He has to depend upon an elderly Italian as his guide. Has to depend upon this stranger to get him through the mission. What happens on this recon is a incredible story. Even after all this time, I can still recall the fire fight, the tension (perfectly wrought) and the suspense of the night on the "hill".
This book did not get the full on best-seller list recognition it deserved. I'm done now. Go read it.
Inadvertently, I had recently finished *A Thread of Grace* by Mary Doria Russell. Sitting these two stories side by side just about blew my brain. Same setting, different viewpoints. A-mazing.
Told from a U.S. soldier's view, it is near the end of the war and he is tired. So tired. And yet he is assigned yet another mission of recon. He has to depend upon an elderly Italian as his guide. Has to depend upon this stranger to get him through the mission. What happens on this recon is a incredible story. Even after all this time, I can still recall the fire fight, the tension (perfectly wrought) and the suspense of the night on the "hill".
This book did not get the full on best-seller list recognition it deserved. I'm done now. Go read it.
July 30, 2012
With "Peace", Richard Bausch writes a small novel that is anything but. Carefully crafted using spare writing, Bausch takes us into the minds of three young soldiers on a scouting mission in WWII Italy, as the Germans are retreating north. Each character is forced to deal with his fears, his emotions and the moral complexities that often face soldiers during times of war. Peace is a masterpiece that needs to be discovered and read.
May 17, 2008
This is an elegant short novel about "doing the right thing" set in WW II Italy. See Perpetual Folly for my full review.
July 6, 2010
Overwritten, unrealistic and shoddily researched.
November 7, 2010
Read on a snowy Spring weekend in Patagonia - very good.
February 24, 2011
This was one of the 2009 RUSA Notable Books winners. For the complete list, go to http://www.ala.org/ala/mgrps/divs/rus...
April 1, 2012
Great piece of literature. There is no way to describe it - Bausch is just very very good. I don't normally read war books but this held my attention even when things got brutal at times.
November 15, 2013
Peace is a novel by Richard Bausch that captures the brutality, loneliness, and moral complexity of war. It’s effectively written, highly controlled, vivid, and disturbing. There’s really no peace at all in this novel. The setting is Italy, WWII. Three GIs are sent ahead to scout the German retreat. They’ve already witnessed their sergeant unjustifiably murder a woman traveling with a German officer they found hiding in a peasant’s cart, and they don’t like each other.
Marson, the corporal, is a Catholic whose faith is shaken to the foundations. Asch is a Jew who finds himself in the company of Joyner, an anti-Semite. And now they’re climbing a drenched mountain at night, can barely see, soaked through, and find themselves subject to the predations of a sniper, who strikes as snow begins to fall on them.
As an additional twist, the three GIs come across an Italian, Angelo, who seems to understand more English than he’ll admit. The question arises: Is Angelo leading the GIs into a trap? At one point, they hold still, hearing firing that can only mean an entire village is being executed not far away by the Germans. This goes on for an hour, or an eternity.
War novels of this type have certain virtues and certain limitations. The virtues entail concrete details that resonate with meaning because any step you take can get you killed. They also entail riveting descriptions of pain, soldiers stretched far past their limits. Bausch expertly exploits the challenge of the mountain, the rain, the snow, the moonlight and the cover that clouds afford at critical moments in the action. He doesn’t stray from the unfolding scene much. This isn’t a book like The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. There are few lyrical riffs even though inevitably each of the three GIs is explored thoroughly, especially Marson.
The limitations of war novels like this have to do with a writer’s natural tendency to explore psychic, and in some ways romantic, breakthroughs that may or may not occur on the field of battle. I won’t reveal the ending, which in some ways is well done and yet in other ways raises doubts about Marson’s capacity for contemptuous pity.
Yesterday I attended a lecture given by Rick Atkinson, one of the preeminent historians of WW II. Afterward he and I had an exchange about something that has long perplexed me. Today we are highly aware of post-traumatic shock disorder afflicting U.S. forces returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, and yet Atkinson told me he wasn’t aware of a good study of post-traumatic shock disorder following WW II. In fact, my father was in WW II for four and a half years, and so were all the other fathers in my community. My father flew in and out of battle constantly during that time; afterward he never got on an airplane--wouldn’t and couldn’t. The other fathers in the community, like my own, didn’t talk a lot about what they’d been through. The one really painful distinction I observed was between those who had served and those who, for whatever reason, had not served. Those men who didn’t serve in WW II were lesser beings. In a peculiar way they seemed more damaged than the men who served.
What I wondered, in my discussion with Atkinson, was whether the unity America felt about its commitment to WWII healed a lot of soldiers. They carried awful memories, I know, but they were honored, and they’d won a war worth winning...that had to be won. But as Atkinson commented, this hasn’t really been studied.
There’s no clear answer here. Pat Barker, the British novelist, has written eloquently about post-traumatic shock disorder following WW I. In some ways the extended inhumanity of that war may have had a more terrible impact on its participants than other wars. Remember, mustard gas was used in WWI, and the war lasted for months and years as men essentially rotted in opposing trenches.
For a horrible struggle, remember that our own Civil War generated more American losses than any other war in which the United States was involved. Perhaps PTSD was limited not only by the lack of a diagnosis but also by the number of combatants who did not survive to suffer a long twilight of trauma. One of our best, and most disturbing, writers on the Civil War was Walt Whitman. Essentially he functioned as a nurse, but his observations range more broadly than that.
One problem that Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan have presented us is the questionable rationale for U.S. engagement. These have been vicious wars, and the veterans of these wars often don’t feel the sense of pride and community support experienced by WW II veterans. Another issue I brought up with Atkinson is whether the 360 degree threat level in Iraq and Afghanistan has intensified and broadened instances of post-traumatic shock. By this I mean that in WWII soldiers generally went head to head against counterpart armies. In Iraq and Afghanistan you could be killed anywhere at any time--taking a shower, swimming in a pool, walking across a base, driving down a road, working at your desk: anywhere. Suddenly there would be a rocket. Suddenly there would be an IED. Suddenly there would be a mortar shell or a car bomb. The space around you fractured in an instant. That’s the nature of asymmetrical warfare. Our soldiers march in armed and ready to fight, the enemy soldier doesn’t look like a soldier and doesn’t want to fight, only wants to inflict casualties at minimal cost to his side. Having been involved in the Iraq war (see my book Nights in the Pink Motel), I found the stoicism and bravery of our wounded warriors humbling.
To return to Bausch’s novel, Peace, the principal character, Marson, carries out a dangerous, difficult mission. He sees death, and he must kill or be killed. He wants something from his Catholic faith to help him deal with what happens to him, but he can’t even remember prayers in English anymore, he’s heard too much praying in Italian. We must assume that he will return to the U.S., if he returns to the U.S., a permanently altered man. For the better or for the worse? That’s perhaps the key question the novel asks.
Atkinson included in his lecture a provocative thought: We call ourselves Homo Sapiens (the man who thinks). Perhaps we ought to call ourselves Homo Furens (the man who fights). There have been precious few years in recent centuries when there wasn’t a war going on somewhere. In fact, we’ve been been seeing war-like conflict in the double-digits for decades. We fight and fight, and it’s brutal, essentially an experience no individual can pass through without suffering scars that don’t go away.
For more of my comments on contemporary writing, see Tuppence Reviews (Kindle).
Marson, the corporal, is a Catholic whose faith is shaken to the foundations. Asch is a Jew who finds himself in the company of Joyner, an anti-Semite. And now they’re climbing a drenched mountain at night, can barely see, soaked through, and find themselves subject to the predations of a sniper, who strikes as snow begins to fall on them.
As an additional twist, the three GIs come across an Italian, Angelo, who seems to understand more English than he’ll admit. The question arises: Is Angelo leading the GIs into a trap? At one point, they hold still, hearing firing that can only mean an entire village is being executed not far away by the Germans. This goes on for an hour, or an eternity.
War novels of this type have certain virtues and certain limitations. The virtues entail concrete details that resonate with meaning because any step you take can get you killed. They also entail riveting descriptions of pain, soldiers stretched far past their limits. Bausch expertly exploits the challenge of the mountain, the rain, the snow, the moonlight and the cover that clouds afford at critical moments in the action. He doesn’t stray from the unfolding scene much. This isn’t a book like The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. There are few lyrical riffs even though inevitably each of the three GIs is explored thoroughly, especially Marson.
The limitations of war novels like this have to do with a writer’s natural tendency to explore psychic, and in some ways romantic, breakthroughs that may or may not occur on the field of battle. I won’t reveal the ending, which in some ways is well done and yet in other ways raises doubts about Marson’s capacity for contemptuous pity.
Yesterday I attended a lecture given by Rick Atkinson, one of the preeminent historians of WW II. Afterward he and I had an exchange about something that has long perplexed me. Today we are highly aware of post-traumatic shock disorder afflicting U.S. forces returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, and yet Atkinson told me he wasn’t aware of a good study of post-traumatic shock disorder following WW II. In fact, my father was in WW II for four and a half years, and so were all the other fathers in my community. My father flew in and out of battle constantly during that time; afterward he never got on an airplane--wouldn’t and couldn’t. The other fathers in the community, like my own, didn’t talk a lot about what they’d been through. The one really painful distinction I observed was between those who had served and those who, for whatever reason, had not served. Those men who didn’t serve in WW II were lesser beings. In a peculiar way they seemed more damaged than the men who served.
What I wondered, in my discussion with Atkinson, was whether the unity America felt about its commitment to WWII healed a lot of soldiers. They carried awful memories, I know, but they were honored, and they’d won a war worth winning...that had to be won. But as Atkinson commented, this hasn’t really been studied.
There’s no clear answer here. Pat Barker, the British novelist, has written eloquently about post-traumatic shock disorder following WW I. In some ways the extended inhumanity of that war may have had a more terrible impact on its participants than other wars. Remember, mustard gas was used in WWI, and the war lasted for months and years as men essentially rotted in opposing trenches.
For a horrible struggle, remember that our own Civil War generated more American losses than any other war in which the United States was involved. Perhaps PTSD was limited not only by the lack of a diagnosis but also by the number of combatants who did not survive to suffer a long twilight of trauma. One of our best, and most disturbing, writers on the Civil War was Walt Whitman. Essentially he functioned as a nurse, but his observations range more broadly than that.
One problem that Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan have presented us is the questionable rationale for U.S. engagement. These have been vicious wars, and the veterans of these wars often don’t feel the sense of pride and community support experienced by WW II veterans. Another issue I brought up with Atkinson is whether the 360 degree threat level in Iraq and Afghanistan has intensified and broadened instances of post-traumatic shock. By this I mean that in WWII soldiers generally went head to head against counterpart armies. In Iraq and Afghanistan you could be killed anywhere at any time--taking a shower, swimming in a pool, walking across a base, driving down a road, working at your desk: anywhere. Suddenly there would be a rocket. Suddenly there would be an IED. Suddenly there would be a mortar shell or a car bomb. The space around you fractured in an instant. That’s the nature of asymmetrical warfare. Our soldiers march in armed and ready to fight, the enemy soldier doesn’t look like a soldier and doesn’t want to fight, only wants to inflict casualties at minimal cost to his side. Having been involved in the Iraq war (see my book Nights in the Pink Motel), I found the stoicism and bravery of our wounded warriors humbling.
To return to Bausch’s novel, Peace, the principal character, Marson, carries out a dangerous, difficult mission. He sees death, and he must kill or be killed. He wants something from his Catholic faith to help him deal with what happens to him, but he can’t even remember prayers in English anymore, he’s heard too much praying in Italian. We must assume that he will return to the U.S., if he returns to the U.S., a permanently altered man. For the better or for the worse? That’s perhaps the key question the novel asks.
Atkinson included in his lecture a provocative thought: We call ourselves Homo Sapiens (the man who thinks). Perhaps we ought to call ourselves Homo Furens (the man who fights). There have been precious few years in recent centuries when there wasn’t a war going on somewhere. In fact, we’ve been been seeing war-like conflict in the double-digits for decades. We fight and fight, and it’s brutal, essentially an experience no individual can pass through without suffering scars that don’t go away.
For more of my comments on contemporary writing, see Tuppence Reviews (Kindle).
November 11, 2019
This is an incredible book, right up there with other examinations of war such as The Things They Carried, or All Quiet on the Western Front.
Set in northern Italy during the brutal 1944 winter, a small American Army squad discovers a German soldier and a woman hiding in a farmer's cart. The German shoots two of the soldiers, he himself is shot, and then the Amry sergeant executes the woman. Robert Marson, the protagonist, has to deal with what to do, as he and two others are sent up a mountain to do more reconnaissance. In torrential rain.
The reader follows along, in a powerful look at war, right and wrong during war, and how most rules during civilized time unravel during war. The weather and the mountains are both characters and metaphors. An Italian peasant, commandeered to be a guide, is suspected as a Nazi collaborator by some but not all. Marson wrestles with doing his "duty", and what exactly his duty is. The other soldiers, Asch and Joyner, are polar opposites, and this poses problems. The twists at the end place another dark layer on this story.
It's a quick read, under 200 pages, and a total page turner. You will become invested in this tale. There are reading guides available, so if a high school history class were to read it, there is much to talk about, including the title itself. And, it has recently been made into a movie by Enderby Entertainment.
Set in northern Italy during the brutal 1944 winter, a small American Army squad discovers a German soldier and a woman hiding in a farmer's cart. The German shoots two of the soldiers, he himself is shot, and then the Amry sergeant executes the woman. Robert Marson, the protagonist, has to deal with what to do, as he and two others are sent up a mountain to do more reconnaissance. In torrential rain.
The reader follows along, in a powerful look at war, right and wrong during war, and how most rules during civilized time unravel during war. The weather and the mountains are both characters and metaphors. An Italian peasant, commandeered to be a guide, is suspected as a Nazi collaborator by some but not all. Marson wrestles with doing his "duty", and what exactly his duty is. The other soldiers, Asch and Joyner, are polar opposites, and this poses problems. The twists at the end place another dark layer on this story.
It's a quick read, under 200 pages, and a total page turner. You will become invested in this tale. There are reading guides available, so if a high school history class were to read it, there is much to talk about, including the title itself. And, it has recently been made into a movie by Enderby Entertainment.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 204 reviews