POETRY SHATTERS THE VEIL OF WAR

The vile nature and unimaginable horrors of war have long been masked by
Government propaganda, becoming synonymous with notions of the purest nobility
and glory. Isaak Jackson delves into the confronting realm of war poetry, and the
role it plays in challenging this utopian ideology.

Grotesque arms of grot and wire reach up greedily to trip you as you run. Sinister
bullets scream eagerly through the air, ripping and tearing and thudding. Your
eyes are glazed, as empty as the heart that now beats aimlessly against your
aching body. Death himself runs beside you, chuckling and devouring your
comrades as they fall. War rears its ugly head; true features exposed beneath a
shattered faade of false honor. One question burns hot, hotter than the wounds
now opening up across your chest.
Why?

The great beast that is war has wandered through history for centuries, shaping
nations and destroying empires. Even today, evidence points to a global mindset
in which countries are defined not by their size, shape or success but by their
military prowess. Epitomizing this quest for dominance by superior army is the
call of battle, the ideal that war is the epitome of masculinity and patriotic duty,
the apex of glory. In no moment of history is this better exemplified than in
World War One, the war to end all wars (ah, in retrospect)

1914 marked the start of war, an era in which men as young as 14, with shiny
eyes and eagerly brave hearts, enlisted to fight for their loved ones, their bellies
full on empty promises of glory. Yet these dominant ideologies were challenged
by the poetry of one of the wars greatest wordsmiths.

Wilfred Owen was both a decorated soldier and celebrated poet, with a self
appointed task of speaking for those who could not, giving voice and imagery to
the pity of war. Killed on the field of battle, his works hold extra weight in their
ability to provide first hand insight into the mind of a soldier, and we almost
unrivalled in their ability to shatter preconceived ideologies that were spoon-fed
to the public of the early 1900s.

Nowhere is this more evident than in his renowned classic Dulce et Decorum Est,
penned to give a rude awakening to the harsh reality of noble battle. The title
itself is satirical and ironic, derived from the Latin meaning it is sweet and
decorous to die for ones country.
The first line paints a very different story.

By comparing the young soldiers to old beggars under sacks and coughing like
hags Owen creates a vivid image of a transition from man to slaving victim
through the use of similes. The poem is designed to shock audiences back home,
highlighting that the sons, fathers and brothers they sent of in search of glory
found something far more sinister.

The notion of war as a noble pursuit is further questioned in the chilling
depiction of a soldiers nightmare, in which a fallen comrade plunges at me,
guttering, choking, drowning. The isolated use of onomatopoeia hits hard,
highlighting the futility of a soldiers plight, powerless and unprepared in the face
on unimaginable horrors.

Owen reaches a crux of vivid detail as he writes of white eyes writhing in his
hanging face, like a Devils sick of sin, and even goes so far as to describe blood
gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, obscene as cancer incurable sores on
innocent tongues. With the pen his paintbrush and his own experience the ink,
Own paints a very different picture to the one anticipated by audiences back
home, likening war to an incurable sickness invading and victimizing the
innocent soldiers who were supposed to be valiant and heroic.

The poem concludes by addressing the audience directly, evoking a subtle sense
of guilt and shame within the audience in describing desperate glory, before
ending full circle by labeling the title of the work, the notion of self sacrificing
patriotism, an old lie.

Perhaps not as well known, yet certainly even more confronting is the lament
Mental Cases. Himself having been treated for shell shock, this was a deeply
personal work for Owen, and is unwavering in its direct contradiction of
dominant war ideologies of his time.

The mental patients, subjects of the poem, are compared in stanza 1 to
purgatorial shadows, implying that they are mere whispers of the men they
once were, with all life and spirit drained and baring teeth that leer like skulls
teeth wicked.
Certainly a far cry from the stoic hero of valiant battle.

In stanza two, Owen uses vivid imagery to position readers to see soldiers as
empty shells, likening them to men whos minds the dead have ravished. Not oly
does this sharply contradict the dominant ideology of what it meant to be a
soldier at the time, but also highlights their evolution from hopeful and joyous
young men to an almost zombie like being, treading blood from lungs that had
loved laughter.

This use of blood as a symbol is continued in stanza three, as the poem compares
sunlight to a blood-smear, night as blood-black and he dawn as a wound
breaking open and bleeding afresh. The notion that even the beauty of nature is
tainted by the horrors of war is designed to confront the reader, causing them to
question their own values about the character and expectation of a soldier.

Similar to Dulce, the poem ends on a note of guilt, addressing the adience as us
who smote them, brother, pawing us who dealt them war and madness. Again this
confronts the reader with the idea that they themselves have condemned loved
ones to the same gruesome fate and likening war to a cursed card in the deck of
life. Certainly enough to shake any preconceived attitudes and values to their
core.
Poetry will always hold unrivalled power in its ability to evoke emotion, capture
history and challenge dominant ideologies, particularly when it comes to the
romantic ideals of war as noble and heroic.

So the next time war rears its ugly head, do not be fooled by false facades; do not
be tempted by empty promises of glory. After all, perhaps true glory lies not
within the embracing of battle, but within its defiance.