"The Things They Carried" is the first chapter of Tim O'Brien's collection The Things They Carried. In it, O'Brien tells two stories: the death of Ted Lavender and the love story of Jimmy Cross and Martha. Of course, these two stories are related, for it is because Jimmy Cross is daydreaming about Martha at the moment that Ted Lavender is shot that he feels so responsible for his death. However, the story is largely comprised of neither of these stories, but of a lengthy list of the items the soldiers carried while in Vietnam. Some of the items are practical: ammunition, special shoes, first aid supplies, etc. Other items are sentimental connections to home: letters from girlfriends, pictures, Bibles, pantyhose, etc. These items vary greatly and often reveal much about their carrier. For example, the readers learn early that Lavender always carried tranquilizers, revealing that he needed drugs in order to even function in this environment. Yet, the most important type of item carried isn't tangible; these items range from guilt to embarrassment, from fear to an odd type of bravery. These items weighed the most.

As someone who has not served in the military--nor do I have close friends or relatives who have--it is difficult to place myself in the situations described by O'Brien. I do, however, wonder what I would carry, a question that I imagine O'Brien wants his readers to consider. The practical items go without saying, although, of course, they need to be said because the sheer weight of those items is unfathomable to someone who hasn't served. But what item would I bring to cope? "Cope" is the word here for that is what all of the items--practical, sentimental, intangible--all help the soldier to do. They are all coping mechanisms, not necessarily able to protect the soldier (for nothing protects the many soldiers that die in this collection) but able to set his mind at ease for a few moments--to escape the never-ending fear. I know many would say that they would bring their phones, for even though there wouldn't be any cell service, the photos, songs, etc. stored on it would instantly link back to home. However, I think this choice of item would be kind of cheating since it didn't exist at the time and impractical since there aren't a lot of chargers just hanging around the Vietnam jungle. What would allow me to cope? To feel comforted by having a connection to home? I think I would carry my grandmother's wedding ring, an unadorned claddagh ring. A claddagh is an Irish ring that features to hands holding a heart and both of my grandparents wore one as their wedding ring. When my grandmother passed, I received hers and I wear it often. Having it with me in a strange and dangerous place would make me feel as though not only my grandmother were with me but my entire family as well.

I usually post along with the class, but I missed the last due date. However, I've been thinking about the readings in my classes: The Things They Carried in 1A, The Secret History in 1B, and Stephen King's "Why We Love Horror Movies" in 79. I have read all of these texts numerous times and I am wondering what it is about them that still holds my interest. Take King's essay as an example. In this piece, he writes on a topic in which I have very little interest: horror movies. I don't watch them or like them. I do enjoy thrillers and true crime, but I find horror movies often to be just gore. Although this is gross and sometimes shocking, it isn't scary to me. Yet, I love King's essay. Why? One is how he sprinkles in "Kingisms" throughout--the worms waiting for us in the ground being just one example. But, I really love how he breaks the rules of writing. King has a 6 word paragraph! Not six sentences, but six words. I know most of my students would be scared to write such a paragraph. However, it is one of the most effective paragraphs in the entire piece.
This breaking of the rules is seen in the other two readings as well. The Secret History is a "mystery" book, but it tells you who is murdered and who the murderers are on the first page. That move clearly breaks the rules of mysteries. As the author says, the book is not a "whodunnit" but a "whydunnit." Her narrator also lies to the other characters, and probably to the readers as well, throughout the story. It is difficult to trust anything he says. Strangely, it is because the author has broken the rules that the text most intrigues me. And, of course, O'Brien plays with the rules in The Things They Carried as well. The title page tells us that the works is one of fiction and yet he dedicates the text to the characters he has created. The reader is continuously stuck in a loop of believing the text to be memoir to fully realizing it is fiction. As readers, we should be mad at him--he seems to be toying with us. And, yet, I can't help but admire his courage to break these rules.