The Things They Carried

The Things They Carried         The difference between reality and fiction is often matchless of axiomatic perception rather than fact. There are no formal standards by which we decide when a written spirt has left the borders of sanity and ventured into the realm of the inconceivable? The things they carried is an interesting fibre study in a preponderance of this nature. The novel is formally designated a train of fiction, but I think that reservation any categorical classification of a book much(prenominal) as this is would be inaccurately conveying the raison detre of its author, Tim OBrien. To me, there is a clear distinction between a fictional work that seeks to efficaciously describe a real situation by making it seem more appealing to the common reviewer and your run-of-the-mill fabrication. It is all too possible that the rigors of daily creation at the front lines of the Vietnam war are too commonplace and tedious to be recounted in pure factual detail. The Things They Carried tries to pick at the disinterest such reality might present by embellishing facts. As such, I would say that it is both an indulgence in fictional hyperbole and an effort to narrate reality.

        This intertwining of fictional dramatisation and non-fictional narrative is seen on two occasions in particular.



The low of these is when OBrien describes the thoughts and apprehensions that plagued his mind when he received his draft notice in the summer of nineteen-sixty eight.

        It is perhaps common for men to bank that fill in wartime, courage and gallantry are two virtues that spontaneously burgeon out from their beings, like a kingfisher that springs forth from its idyllic lie upon sighting its exposed prey under that crystalline fart of a lakes surface. OBrien says All of us, I suppose like to believe that...

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