Mrs. Dalloway- The Impact of War on the Human Mind

As seen in both Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, war plays a role in the character's mental capacities and well as their future actions.

In Mrs. Dalloway, Clarissa Dalloway and World War One Verteren, Septimus Warren Smith, see a car passing by on a London Street on a bustling, summer afternoon. One one hand, Clarissa believes that some royalty, such as the King and/or the Queen is hidden behind the curtain of the car. She says, "Was it the Prince of Whales's, the Queen's, the Prime Minister's? Whose face was it? Nobody knew" (Woolf 58). For Clarissa, this car symbolizes that of hope; after the torment of the war, others, similar to and including Clarissa, cling onto faith and tradition, as well as hope. There is this lasting belief that goodness is still possibly, and that their country and the world can unite once again.

After the monstrous war, Septimus and other war veterans see society in a divergent way: instead of holding onto hope, this feeling and similar ones are lost as well as part of their mental psychs because of their experiences. This car, to Septimus, represents that of danger; he believes that it symbolizes a potential attack and he has the duty to stay alive. In another instance, Septimus feels that someone is trying to communicate with him through code when he see the words "TOFFEE" in the sky.

Because every human mind is only capable of imagining what they have experienced, war veterans have more burden to carry because of all the sights, the smells, the sounds, the tastes, and the things they have touched. Their minds can directly link what they sense both physically and mentally to events that have occurred during the war, beyond what any "normal" mind can truly envision.

Mrs. Dalloway- Clarissa Dalloway and Freedom

       In Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, the protagonist of the story, Mrs. Dalloway demonstrates a social dilemma of being in the life she has versus the life she wants to lead. Towards the beginning of the novel, the narrator says, "She (Clarissa Dalloway) had the oddest sense of being herself invisible, unseen; unknown; there being no more marrying, nor more having of children now, but only this astonishing and rather solemn progress with the rest of them, up bond Street, this being Mrs. Dalloway; not ever Clarissa any morel this being Mrs. Richard Dalloway," (Woolf 11.) She feels trapped between a sense of freedom and a sense of social pressure. 

       During this time period, however, this feeling is quite common. In England after the first World War, women have gone from having more responsibilities at home and running businesses to returning to their "women duties," such as cooking dinner and cleaning the house. Although an end of the war usually brings peace, it brings this about the idea of being smothered as women have to go back to the home. It only seems socially acceptable to return to the way things are, but in this story, Mrs. Dalloway represents the facts that women are willing to progress with time and retain the privileges they had during the war. In this case, Mrs. Dalloway has the benefits of being in a higher class, but at the end of the road she is the one who wants to be in control of her life and who makes her own decisions. 

The Things They Carried- What I Would Carry

Many people tend to ask the question to better understand someone: What would you bring on a deserted island? While reading The Things They Carried, by Tim O'Brien, a similar prompt arose: what would you bring to war?

Although the two questions have their similarities, war is quite the anthesis of an island. Cross, the main narrator, hopes to demonstrate to the reader the "weight" that falls on the soldiers. The things they carry are mostly technical or military equipment. However, it is the small things that are in their bags or wrapped around their bodies that lie close to their hearts. Even though the 28-pound mine detector might physically be the heaviest, the photo of a loved-one or the good luck charm from a daughter might mentally outweigh the rest.

So the question still remains: what would I bring to war? Through the troubling times, one would need something to keep himself or herself sane. Since it would be impossible to bring a piano, I would bring an iPod with a manually, rechargeable battery filled with classical as well as trendy music to soothe my mind. Along with that, I would keep a water-proof photo album filled with memories of friends and family from over the years. Finally, I would bring a water purifier in order to maintain my hydration and health.

Overall, the three things I would bring break down into three categories: something enjoyable that could boost morals, a sentimental item that could bring hope while faced with mental obstacles, and lastly, a gadget geared for survival. What would you bring?

The Things They Carried- The Purpose of a Story

       In Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried, Jim Cross, the narrator, tells many stories about the war and the lasting impacts of its memories. Through these carefully crafted representations, Cross manages to blur the line between what is fiction and what is reality. At the end of “Spin,” Cross illuminates what he believes the purpose of a story is, “Stories are for joining the past to the future. Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can’t remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for the eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember except the story,” (O’Brien 36). The point that he hopes to portray is that stories are simply reflective of what a human recalls, or at least what they want to remember. As life goes on, certain distinctive details may diminish, but what is left is the truth that wants to be told.

The Things They Carried- Beyond What The Eye Can See

The things she carried were difficult to determine, for they went beyond what the human eye is capable of seeing.

Sitting in her desk in the early morning, she was placid, the sounds of others filling into the room would not disturb her. The tick of the clock wouldn’t bring anxiety, or so it appeared. She carried a backpack, and since she was a diligent student, it was always filled to the brim, overflowing with textbooks and assignments. The backpack, usually around fifteen pounds, was only a small weight she carried in her life. What weighed much more was a delicate photo inside of her wallet, neatly tucked inside the backpack, and a red, rubber ball innocuously placed in the middle pouch. She carried a reminder of her mother’s passing. The photo was taken three months ago of her mother on her forty-seventh birthday, the last one she would ever celebrate.

He was quite the antithesis of she. He was an athlete, a jock. Others believed he was the most popular boy in the school; they almost convinced him that this was true. With one leg casually propped up on a chair, he stood there and leaned over to talk to a girl. Before any words came out, he thought to himself. He thought of how to correctly pronounce his “S,” the words of his voice coach ringing in his ears. His back was flat; his knee was support for his elbow. This effortless look concealed his mental struggle like a cautious animal not letting its guard down. He carried this weight, this horrible handicap, but nevertheless, he knew that it was his secret and his alone.

The counselor at school had the most evident load of them all. Kid One gingerly sat in the chair across the table Monday morning, shameful to admit of what he did over the weekend. He was shameful to lower himself, and to meet the counselor’s eyes. The bag that he used for drugs over the weekend was suddenly passed along to the counselor, put into her “overflow baggage” section. This was kid one’s last day. This was his last strike. This was the counselor’s last time she would ever see him, this kid one. This weekend event was now shared between the two of them. She felt she should have done more to help this kid. Now, it was to late. Now, she carried Kid One’s burden too.  

Kid Two went into the counselor’s office only one hour later. He too was responsible, and he knew what he had done was wrong. The scars on his wrist were a reminder of this. With an expulsion, his parent’s would have disowned him. With the suspension he received, he found that his own self-hatred was worse than any other punishment. He weight was too much to handle, and the counselor knew this.  He carried these self-loathing thoughts with himself as he approached the bathroom. He counted the pills, each weighing no more than a tenth of an ounce, but they felt like bricks against the palm of his hand. His weight that was once reasonable seemed to suffocate him. He put the pills down, and while he told his counselor all of this, her mouth seemed to mimic similar motions.

There was one object that every Severn student carried, and it unanimously outweighed all other burdens – the brain. The brain was a package that varied in shape and size, and that needed to make sure it included all of the necessities. Without it, the students would not have survived. It brought knowledge, courage, and passion; on the other hand, it also brought evil, jealously, and corruption.

These were the things that some Severn Students carried, and even with this tremendous weight, they were still able to walk.