The 13-year old cohort at Chez Lex is of the unswervable opinion that Sunday evenings are, and of a right ought to be, dedicated to viewing of “The Simpsons” on television. This same group was shocked into outrage last night to find that the paterfamilias had dedicated the TiVo towards recording the first 2.5 hours of Ken Burns PBS mini-series “The War.”
I didn’t watch only because Burns had so very much impressed me with his documentary on the Civil War back in 1990. I watched because I thought I ought to, I suppose. Important subject and all that. Greatest generation, etc.
Even though I had learned along the way that part of what Burns was hoping to do was deconstruct the myth of World War II as being a “good war.” There are necessary wars, Burns says. But not good ones. As though doing something necessary to prevent a greater evil is not a kind of good, at least compared to the alternative.
Here’s new twist, I thought to myself – a Hollywood film maker come to share with us his wide-eyed discovery that war is really rather an awful thing.
That hasn’t been done before.
To ensure that history received the proper political context, given the current unpleasantness overseas, Burns even went so far as to pump his documentary in an interview with the noted intellectual and level headed political centrist Keith Olbermann. Keith was quite eager to pin Burns down on the point that while World War II might not have been a good war, it was certainly better than the war in Iraq. While being quick to point out that comparisons between the two were inherently invidious. Except when they pointed out the differences. Between a not-good war and a war that’s really not good. Because of Bush.
Nevertheless that was my father’s war, and that of my uncles. And most of the men of their generation. Men whose tales I had heard as a boy, always watching for the things they didn’t say. The part where they stopped talking and exchanged significant glances before finally looking away, almost – but not quite – embarassed. Clearing their throats. Moving on.
Worth watching I thought. Even if I did have to take a little sermonizing with my education.
As I said, I was charmed by Burn’s “The Civil War.” He took still photographs and brought them to life in a way that felt at once vivid and uncontrived. The names of familiar towns and cities in my Virginia were given a deeper, more plangent context even as the words of Mary Chestnut reached out to me across the ages. We heard the voices too of Frederick Douglass and Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. These were people you might learn from. People, whom it suddenly seemed, you might have only just missed meeting. People who were forced to endure dark and dangerous times.
And there of course was our genial scholar, Shelby Foote, whose textured understanding of the times and soft southern accent evoked all of the old uncles of Richmond who knew just a bit more about “The War” than our textbooks saw fit to relate. He had that wink in his eye and I wanted to buy him a bit of bourbon and branch and just sit at his side and listen. To see it all unfold through his words.
He said that deep in the heart of every southern boy there would always be a moment in July the 3rd, 1863. The flags would still be furled in their cases, the proud and heretofore undefeated legions of the Army of Northern Virginia assembled in loose order on the field at the foot of that hill in all their power and martial splendor. The horses champing and muttering, but the drums and bugles still silent. That it hadn’t happened yet. Would never happen.
I understood.
So I watched last night with keen anticipation, Keith Olbermann aside. And came away unimpressed.
Oh, technically there’s nothing wrong with the work Burns has done here. He’s found some lovely voices from the past, and plenty of new footage and photos rescued from musty archives. But so far at least, it doesn’t seem new. Nothing we haven’t seen already on the History Channel, or learned at our own fathers’ knees. We have not been spared the sights of dead soldiers nor burned out villages and cities.
Perhaps it is still to soon for those of us whose parents were of that greatest generation. Or perhaps Burns is just trying too hard to make his point, in that earnest but clever boy way of his.
I’ll keep watching, I suppose. But “The Simpsons” are waiting around the corner, just in case.
Thanks for the tip. We’d missed it last night, preoccupied with Professional Bull Riding, but we’d planned on seeing it. Maybe still will.
I am a book person, not a TV person–and I DO know the difference between non-fiction and historical fiction–that said, I am reading Anne Perry’s series on WW 1 and would recommend it to anyone.
respectfully, d
Nevertheless that was my father’s war, and that of my uncles. And most of the men of their generation. Men whose tales I had heard as a boy, always watching for the things they didn’t say. The part where they stopped talking and exchanged significant glances before finally looking away, almost – but not quite – embarassed. Clearing their throats. Moving on.
Very well put Lex. Our family dinners with the Uncles; Joe, Red, Bill, John, LeRoy and Dad who all served in that war had a lot of that flavor from time to time. Could learn a lot just watching and listening from the corner. Thankls!
Had an Uncle Jack who was on USS Lexington and got to take a swim in Coral Sea. I was young when he passed, can’t remember his face, but I remember every word of his stories.
On the road and haven’t seen any of KB’s WWII stuff, but highly recommend the Civil War series and double that for “Baseball.” If you are a baseball fan (or Red Sox fan) you must see it. Beautiful. Beautiful.
Nose
Seems pretty standard issue Ken Burns– anecdotes and archival footage (fine as far it goes) poorly linked, with crappy voice overs and script, with little or no historical context, and not enough maps, and with little or no attempt to explain the strategy of campaigns, or what the hell actually happened. Better than nothing if you know nothing, but for anyone that’s read a book, any book, about world war two its pretty lame.
The Civil War was better, probably partly because I knew less about the subject. And I had a chance to meet Shelby Foote once about 25 years ago– he gave a lecture at college about fiction writing. (He was a good novelist, check out “Follow Me Down.”) He was a true southern gentleman, soft spoken, well spoken, gracious– even to snot nosed sophmore history majors who questioned his Shiloh fixation.
There are indeed no “good wars.” Although there are surely necessary ones. And some greater good may and hopefully does result. But war in and of itself is hardly “good”.
And this is not an original Burn’s thought. It is a perspective long shared with many authors, as Studs Terkels’ in The Good War and various filmmakers. More importantly it is a common view of many, if not a majority of actual combatants who have experienced the incredible horrors of war, up close and personal. These personal horrors of war they tell no one. They are the ones that can break down the toughest old man briefly with a fleeting remembrance half a century later. Yes sometimes necessary, but never “good”.
Robert E. Lee obviously understood. In his understated remark at the Battle of Fredericksburg in 1862, and even in his great victory, he said: ” It is well that war is so terrible – otherwise we would grow too fond of it.”
Agreed, it’s standard Ken Burns fare, but it’s still worth a watch.
I’ve enjoyed the insight into the home front, especially when it comes through the eyes of the gentleman who was very young during the war (I don’t recall his name). It gives me a glimpse of what my parents experienced in their childhood, during the war.
With fliterman I have to agree, there are no good wars — the war on poverty is a prime example and a personal peeve of mine. Not that it’s a bad thing per se to fight poverty, but to call it a war gives the effort delusions of grandeur it does not deserve, and trivializes the other wars we fight by being such a poor example. Don’t even get me started on the war on some drugs. I expect that is one thing fliterman and I probably see eye-to-eye on — to compare DEA agents to soldiers at Chosin Reservoir or in the Pusan Perimeter is to compare apples and, well, soldiers.
I didn’t see the series, as I don’t have television reception at home. I heard an interview with Ken Burns on the radio one morning, specific to his portion of the narrative that happens in a nearby Minnesota town, and was left with the impression it would be a fair story short on detail and long on emotion. I’ll pass, thanks.
I still maintain there are two great bits of media with fairly-recent war as the subject:
One was from back in the ’70’s, called “World War 2: G.I. Diary.” Narration by the participants or voice-overs of their written words along with the combat footage. Powerful. Moving. No subtle messages, no overall goals, just “Why We Fight” told by the corporal. This played on the PBS network from about 1973 or so.
The second, God help me, is “Gettysburgh.” Leaving Ted Turner aside, and the top-notch acting, it just has the Pucker Factor. I’ve participated in Civil War re-enactments a few times, felt the concussion of the cannon firing and the tightening of the sphincter as cavalry rushed my position, even though the only way I was going to actually get hit is if somebody got stupid or quit paying attention. The parched throat, soaking wet shirt, shorts, and socks under a heavy woolen uniform that must remain buttoned in a humid July afternoon. Fumbling with cap and wadding, trying to keep a Spencer rifle firing three times per minute or more while wishing my blouse buttons were thinner so I could be closer to terra firma and cover. But that wasn’t war any more than playing MS Flight Simulator is piloting. It’s realistic up until the point there might be consequences, kind of like betting with Monopoly money. But for capturing that feeling, that pucker factor, Gettysburgh is the only one that’s done it and done it as a matter of naturally following the story rather than as an add-on.
I have had several relatives who served in World War 2 and Korea. Some in Vietnam. Several in the Gulf Wars. My uncle Earl was the radio operator and top turret gunner on a B-17. I distinctly remember the conversation we had about that when I was 8 or so:
“You werein World War 2 on a B-17?”
“Yes, now whisper so you don’t scare the fish.”
“Tell me about it?”
“She was a good ship — she brought me home.”
“What was it like?”
“I’ll tell you later, so we don’t scare the fish.”
He died about 10 years later, and never did tell me directly. His diary from that time tells a lot, and it’s been photocopied and passed on to writers and historians. This is our history, folks, and we’re losing more and more of it day by day.
I believe the appropriate phrase to keep in mind, particularly given the commentary of General Lee noted by fliterman, is “Lest we forget.”
The costs of re-enacting it are mild, the costs of repeating it are more than most can bear.
– Max
Sorry, it was a Sharps rifle. The Spencer came a bit later. My mistake, even though the thing isn’t more than 10′ from me right now.
– Max
I used to live near the swamp at the southern end of the Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Monument. The first time I popped out of the cool woods into the pasture at the base of Cheatham Hill, I realized with horror that the top of the hill was deeply trenched and filled with Tennessee marksmen, and that the young men of Illinois were obliged to advance up that hill, three football fields long, into the withering fire. 3,000 casualties in the first ten minutes. Pucker factor, indeed. I understood immediately why the soldiers of that time packed themselves so tightly together as they advanced. Small wonder the survivors came through irreparably changed (I won’t say damaged).
I realized the other day, visiting Rome with an 80-year-old gentleman who first saw Rome when he occupied it in 1944, that when my children are my age now, World War Two will be ancient history, an event 100 years in the past. When I was their age, men serving in Vietnam were veterans of World War Two. I teach them all I can, time slips away so fast.
I think you captured it. I was vaguely dissatisfied with the program so far, but thought he might warm up as it went along.
Because, as you say, somewhere, somewhen, it is still November 19th, 1943, and all those young men had yet to board the boats and ride into hell.
We opted for The Simpsons. You didn’t miss much.
In fact, to channel Comic Book Guy, “worst episode ever.”
filterman, Gee thanks for the insightful tutorial … I’m sure many around here benefited greatly…including me… and as a result I’m thinking of establishing a companion award to the prestigious Pedantic Peckerwood Award, tentatively to be called for plannng purposes only , The “Mister Obvious Man/ Woman Award”…as of now you are a leading contender…kind of exciting eh. Best
PS, MaxDamage, Great comments # 7 above…just one minor quibble , before my new best bud Casca has a hissey fit, the Marines were at Chosen and the Army was at Pusan.
Lex, in all respects i think i am of exactly the same mind on this as you.
I watched the first episode, and while it is a very well-made film, I’m not learning anything new. I think that’s what made The Civil War far more enlightening. I grew up in an educational environment where the root cause of the Civil War was simpistically boiled down into “slavery” and the lesson then went onto memorizing a few dates in order to be tested.
I am blessed to have a father-in-law who (like Lex) is a Virginia gentleman of the highest order, at whose knee I can sit an learn, bourbon in hand.
I really enjoyed Ken Burns’ “Civil War,” but found his latest effort on WW II to be underwhelming. Listening closely to the words of the narration, I was disappointed to find the language to be pedestrian and hackneyed. (I also found the narrator’s voice to be rough and grating.) The narration is dumbed down, obviously aimed for a generation that can’t recall the dates of the Civil War, WW I, or who was President in WW II. Also, Burns’ style has a faux populist schtick, a smarmy folksiness that is just not the real thing of democratic humility and integrity. In a nutshell: They sent a boy to do a man’s job.
This field has been plowed many times over as the countless re-runs on the History Channel attest…so there’s little, if any, interest in the series from this history buff.
That said, I too enjoyed the Civil War series. I especially recall the last installment that showed a 1930s era film of a reunion of still living vets from both sides re-inacting Picketts Charge of all things. Beautiful Old Coots with long snow white beards ambling over that same field to embrace each other as they met… brought tears to my eyes then and still does now as I write this. Best
PS, Just asking…are all men of a certain age who live in Virginia and speak in soft dulcet tones like Shelby Foote, by definition Virginia gentlemen of the highest order… or are some as in my neighborhood…ill tempered old pecker-woods notwithstanding how softly they speak ?
We watched Sunday and last night and came away a bit under-impressed as well. Burns set the bar so extraordinarily high with the “Civil War” and “Baseball” (never saw “Jazz”). There is so much out there already about WWII as a whole that I don’t think he’s covering that much new ground. The History Channel does pretty well, imho.
To be sure, narrowing his focus occasionally to the small towns and the imapct upon them is interesting, but we’re still waiting for the series to hit it’s stride.
Fwiw–my wife in her dealings in book publishing would cross paths with historians, researchers and others who dealt with Burns as he was researching and producing the Civil War, etc., and they would sometimes mention that he was not exactly the nicest person to work with, along the lines of, “Do you know who I am??” sort of thing.
I should add, however, that I did find the personal recollections of the war vets quite interesting.
GT, I’ll watch all the way through just for the recollections of the vets. Listen closely and you hear them saying in various ways ‘I was scared but I did it anyway, we had to win’. Otherwise, I’m not wowed either. Too bad, because I was hoping Burns would be as innovative as he was with Civil War.
I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself: I bet Burns still get beaten up for his lunch money.
Snake, It depends on what they say, not how they say it.
I find Ken Burns’ The War interesting. I’m a fourth generation American of Japenese descent. I don’t have family or relatives who served in “the war.” So to listen to these veterans firsthand tell their stories was quite moving.
My parents and relatives were taken from their homes and stripped of their business but they were a humble people. They told me their stories of their experience in the internment camps but never had a negative word to say about it.
It was a little disheartening that Ken Burns said something to the effect that there are 1000 to 1700 veterans dying a day. “We are losing the direct connection to the stories and the moments.”
Thanks
Shirley
Lex—Like you I wasn’t too impressed with the first episode but came away more interested after the second. Do like some of the individual stories, like the one of the little girl whose family is interned at Santo Tomas.
Unfortunately I’m a huge fan of his “Civil War” and this endeavor suffers by comparison. I was a War College student when the “Civil War” first aired and everyone in my Section (even the international guys) couldn’t wait to watch each episode.
Snake,
I too remember with misty eyes the filmed 1930’s reunion of the Blue & Grey. Watching the burial scene on the Western plains of the old cavalry private [ex -Confederate general] in SHE WORE A YELLOW RIBBON does the same thing to me.
Burns said that after the Civil War, many of the daguerreotypes made of the battle scenes were sold to greenhouses, as the glass they were made of was somehow deemed more valuable than the sepia images they held.
All the old soldiers, just fading away into the light…
I once heard Shelby Foote say that before he wrote his Civil War stories, he would visit the battle field at the exact time and on the anniversary date of each battle. He could see the fog, feel the heat or cold, hear the wind in the trees… He also said that the thing he looked forward to after his life was to ask questions of the men he wrote about. Yeh, I would have liked to sit at his table and sip bourbon and just listen to him talk. Imagine the stories he’ll share with us next time.
Edward Rothstein has one of those ‘I wish I’d written that’ reviews of The War in the NYT (!) at
nytimesdotcom/2007/10/01/arts/01conn. html?