auld lang syne ~

[lookingland]

dear lj friends: i'm sick and have been since tuesday, so it's entirely possible that i am not in my right mind. just thought i would make that clear.

consider that my official warning for the weekend.

and it's not snowing. i hate minnesota.

edit: okay, it's now snowing (4:00). i've stopped hating minnesota.

for the 50bookchallenge:

no. 18 ~ At the Soldiers' Home by elizabeth corbett. i think this book is supposed to be nostalgic and funny. the author lived for 25 years on the grounds of the National Home at the turn of the century (roughly about 1890-1915ish) and recalls her childhood growing up among the veterans of the Civil War. she has a lot of interesting (and very modern) opinions of what a bunch of whiners and dullards people are in this day and age by comparison (so on that note i think we are kindred). she's also of the opinion that the South won the war in the long run because it's the South with whom everyone sympathizes and recounts the gallantry, etc.: it's a somewhat bitter bone that she begins to express, but doesn't delve too deeply into.

this book is very disturbing for supposedly being a light read. the casualness with which she treats the chronic alcoholism at the Home is especially disturbing, and the portrait she paints of the aging veterans is like no caricature i've ever seen represented. they're not a pack of drawling good ol' boys who hang around chatting up camp days and fond reminiscences of yore. they're a quiet, sullen, uncomfortable group who kvetch about things for lack of anything better to do, make no friends among each other, and seem to enjoy life very little. towards the end of the book, "Bebby" Corbett remarks how these are men who'd seen it all in their early twenties, were disabled to some degree, and then had nothing left to them but to live endlessly on for the rest of their lives. it's so incredibly depressing. there are some amusing anecdotes about how eccentric old soldiers tended to get and presidential visits and so forth, but the "funeral every day" looms in the background constantly and you have the foreboding sense that these men are just waiting to die. in all her years, Bebby could only recall one time that anyone ever spoke to her directly about the war (and it's such an off-hand non sequitor and so positively graphic!), that it really gives you a sense of the shock/denial/evasion these men were laboring under.

i've been reading the literature on the subject of veteran's homes and it's all pretty depressing, frankly. i'm sure it was the best people could do at the time and people did seem to care a great deal that old soldiers were looked after (at least in the North. i'm still collecting information about the South). but it was also not a glowing era for psychiatry (which has always been one of my interests about it), and medicine was still limping along as well. so indeed, once a man went into the "home", it was pretty much just a waiting game for the grave.

which makes my own asylum sort of unique (not in the sense that people don't go there to die, because they obviously do). but unique in the sense that it's more of a commune (those dang socialist Jesuits). and hopefully a more tightly knit group of regulars who can become friends (they had better, i've been planning escapades for them!). depressing as all this reading is, it has certainly given me a lot to think about.

anyway, i'm once again reminded that there's the romantic legacy of war and then there's the awful truth.



veterans of tuscola county, michigan
prolly taken around 1910-1915

Comments

[bachsoprano.livejournal.com]

Oh dear! I'm so sorry you're still sick! Ack and blech and phooey! If you'd like some Reiki, please let me know, okay?

And, talk about tough reading material. I'm not sure how much of an improvement has been made over the years, either...:(

[lookingland.livejournal.com]

yikes ~ how true that is.

i'm feeling much much better, thank you! good thing too ~ all the better to enjoy the snow now!

: D