Glamorization of War in Cranes Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind, Le Guins The Ones Who Wal :: Comparison Compare Contrast Essays

Glamorization of War in Cranes Do not weep, maiden, for fight is kind, Le Guins The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, Lovelaces To Lucasta, Going to the Wars and Owens Dulce Et Decorum Est I ideate sometimes about war. And the fear that follows the war drums. I dreamt once of my minor(postnominal) high teacher, a stocky woman with a passion for the gist ages, whipping me and my fri quits into an army with swords and shields, and then screaming that if we retreat even ace step, well lose. If we lose, we die. So I took the burning line of the sword and stood in the manure waiting for war. I feared death, though not so much the end of life as the violence that would precede it. I feared whatever was waiting in the darkness beyond me. And then my dream shifted and my friends and I were swing music broomsticks in our upstairs study, facing nothing more threatening than iodine another. I dont understand my dreams. And I dont understand war. My only link to the peren nial blood-baths of the early twentieth century are books and dreams. I wish I could say they ended neatly that the characters, when the books closed, folded up their lives and went away and that the phantoms dispersed when I woke up. They dont. War doesnt end neatly either. The Imperial War Museum in capital of the United Kingdom stands as an enormous monument to wars the British people cant forget. War has ply into what Jung would call their collective unconscious until its as much apart of them as the lungs they draw breath with. I walked down a wide street in the basement of the Museum, a dim red light light up my way. Huge slabs of tan mat hung on the staggered walls. The spread of mat was confused only by the deafening silence of words Only the short find an end to war. War demands violence. Anything mediocre is foolhardy. The violence caught me off-guard, bringing a surge of rage-filled bile to my mouth. War demands violence. Demands. Violence. A young ma n from my cool it neighborhood was killed in a New York subway station onerous to protect his mother.