American Pastoral

"This exploration of the unraveling of the American dream and the dark side of idealism fits Stephen King's interest in societal decay and the hidden horrors within seemingly ordinary lives."

"It’s the obverse of Dispatches . American Pastoral shows us how events in a faraway land can wreak havoc in American living rooms. Too often, these days, Americans view war as the stuff of cruise missiles and video games. In this book, Roth recounts what the war in Vietnam wrought for a character named Swede, a star athlete with a beautiful wife and a beautiful life, until his daughter commits an act of violence to “bring the war home”. The daughter, needless to say, destroys her life. But she also destroys Swede’s life and Swede is a stand-in for America itself. American Pastoral illustrates, much better than any work of fiction I can think of, the connection between what happens over there and what happens over here. It’s a beautifully written book and I would suggest it for anyone interested in why American foreign policy matters. Roth’s book shows how the conflict in Vietnam upended American society. I would often wonder, during the height of the Iraq war, why something similar wasn’t happening. When I would come home from Iraq and walk down the street, it was as if there wasn’t a war going on at all. I believe President Obama owes his triumph over Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in the [Democratic presidential] primaries of 2008 to his strong opposition to the invasion of Iraq. But I would often wonder why we weren’t seeing more reverberations in the social realm. The best explanation I could up with was that there is no draft today, so the costs of conflict aren’t felt as keenly at home. If you’re not in danger of being sent to war, you tend not to worry as much. And secondarily, dissent has fled to the Internet, where it is compartmentalised and marginalised. You’re absolutely right. The numbers were exponentially greater and the draft meant that it could be your neighbour or your brother. I think every president and every member of Congress is morally obliged to spend time in the war zone over which they are presiding. And they all ought to have to make pilgrimages to US military hospitals and rehabilitation centres. They ought to go and see these severely wounded young men and women. By doing these two things, policymakers are forced to confront the most direct consequences of their decisions. Rather than a prescription for readers, this list is composed of books that contributed to my current worldview, which has evolved over the years. When I first started writing about foreign policy in the early ‘90s, you would’ve considered me a “liberal hawk”. My views were forged in the debate over the Balkans. I thought we had a moral imperative to act swiftly and decisively. When we finally did intervene, we put an end to the slaughter. That episode grounded my views. The counsel of Bosnia was: intervene where you can and as soon as you can. “There is no draft today, so the costs of conflict aren’t felt as keenly at home. If you’re not in danger of being sent to war, you tend not to worry as much.” These same views caused me to support toppling Saddam Hussein. Following the invasion, The New Republic dispatched me to Iraq. I covered the war for two years. My views on American intervention were tempered by what I saw on the ground, which was hardly the stuff of abstraction. Intellectually, one of course knows that war is a horrible thing, but that’s intellectually. The physical experience drives the point home in a way that nothing else can. So I tested the courage of my convictions in Iraq and my convictions faltered. I no longer believe the war was worth it – though here I should add that I resent those who make a living with their ostentation, recantations and rank-breaking. But you asked me a question and I gave you an answer. I had a lot of friends killed. I covered three brigades in particular. I went back and back and back to those brigades. In the process I became good friends with a group of junior officers. One of these brigades lost about a hundred soldiers, including my public affairs officer and a young captain I admired very much. It’s one thing to say, in an antiseptic room in Washington or from the confines of one’s office, that we ought to do x or y. It really is quite another thing to see, up close, the consequences of those decisions. The consequences can be quite gruesome. Now, the fact that war is hell doesn’t prove, ipso facto , that a given war is not worth the price paid. By that logic, spending 10 seconds on the beaches of Normandy would’ve convinced anybody that World War II was a bloody waste. But Iraq was a very close call to begin with and then no weapons of mass destruction were found, and then the sectarian slaughter began. I was deeply chastened by the experience. “The fact that war is hell doesn’t prove, ipso facto , that a given war is not worth the price paid.” These days, I tend to believe we should evaluate interventions on a case-by-case basis, weighing the capabilities we have, whether we can actually make a difference – which, in Libya, I think we can – and whether the costs outweigh the benefits. After absorbing the costs of one war, I really do try not to view other conflicts through the prism of ideology. But I still think America is a force for good in the world. That I regard as a statement of fact."

""American Pastoral," by Philip Roth, immediately upon turning 40."

"The glove factory in "American Pastoral," the encounter with the gravedigger in "Everyman" and the Halcion addiction that opens "Operation Shylock" are my favorite examples of Roth's skill, showmanship and power."

"Roth, particularly "American Pastoral," which is probably my favorite novel of the last 20 years."