Hey Readers!
My university english class has been continuing our consideration of trauma by delving into the nuanced discussion of the War on Terror. At first, I found the topic almost impossible to talk about. I had no perspective, I felt I lacked the authority to speak on such a controversial topic, one so full of pain, politics, and strong opinions. Much to my relief, our reading of scholarly articles which unpack the nuances of trauma gave me methods to speak about things I was raised to believe were unspeakable. The first article we read as a class was by Ilka Saal, a literary scholar analyzing trauma specific to her reading of Jonathan Foer’s ‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’ (see my previous blog post for my initial reaction to the novel). ‘Trauma transfer’ is Saal’s term for the act of understanding one trauma within the context of other traumas, the understanding of pain as comparable. She aims not to negate the specificity of each individual trauma, as that isn’t constructive, but rather to promote the idea that all people are vulnerable. Understanding the humanity in each other could produce a different reaction to trauma.
However, these ideas that she applies to Foer’s novel are not specifically her own. She writes her piece with the Literary theorist Judith Butler in mind. My class moved on to read Butler’s literary philosophy about trauma and vulnerability. Her work begs the discussion of why we find only some lives grievable. What line do we draw between ‘us’ and ‘them’? She speaks of this especially in terms of war. We know that war will cause what we refer to as collateral damage. Civilian lives are lost, but this is just the cost of doing business, yes? Butler suggests that for us to not be horrified by the deaths of these ‘others’ we must see them as not having lived actual lives in the first place. We must not see our vulnerability and humanity in them. I think this dehumanization is done, in some part, by language. We speak of deaths in impersonal numbers, we refer to the humans on the other side of the line as enemies, and the innocent families coldly as ‘civilians’. It seems easy to remain stuck in a perspective frame which paints the word enemy and evil over large tracts of land in the Middle East. This perspective frame stops people from being able to see the humanity in the other, and in the recent refugee crisis it is vital that these perceptions be reevaluated. People die trying to escape war in their homeland because the west is so afraid of the Middle East. Of course, now I speak in too broad terms. I do not seek to offend, and I am aware of Canada and many other countries increasingly admitting refugees. This could be a sign of the blurring of the perception of ‘us’ and ‘them’, and poses hope for the recognition of mutual vulnerability between peoples. For this, I am glad, and I hope to see a growing trend towards this in the future.
Shout out to Judith Butler for helping me understand and articulate trauma, and the shared vulnerability of people everywhere.
Until next time, readers!
Nicola
