I avoided reading The Women by Kristin Hannah precisely because it was about the Vietnam War. I knew too many guys who were wounded, physically and emotionally, or fatally. No way did I want to “get into all that.” The paradox was that I started reading the book after we returned from Ohio in April just after my stepdaughter, Heather, had died. I was numb, raw, and exhausted. I have no idea why I would pick up such a troubling book at that time. REASONS FOR READING
Knowing almost nothing about the depth of the era it was from but knowing Ms. Hannah earned praised for the thorough background research, I thought maybe it would give me some realistic historical structure for my Vietnam memories. My first reaction after starting to read was it might be “too much” to read at that time.
REASONS FOR CONTINUING TO READ
After the first few chapters, the parallel threads of people who die “before their time” became obvious and a daily contemplation. Even during that time when I was kind of numb from sadness and grief over the death of my stepdaughter, this book, in all its realistic descriptions, and interwoven stories, was compelling.
I AM PART OF THAT HISTORY
In 1965 guys graduating from my high school without “plans” went to Vietnam. Several who I knew did not return. One of the first reminders as I read was of the personal closeness of losing a high school friend – barely a man and in Vietnam less than a year before he was killed. I closed the book and tossed it on the floor. Yet each night I opened it again and read more.
BLENDING FICTION WITH REAL LIFE
The fictional characters became believable. It became routine in my nightly reading to “see” the very real people I knew in the chapters. Guys like S., who sent me a photo of himself posed with a gun standing near a hut with a skull by the “doorway” instead of a Christmas wreath. Or K., who, after coming home to New Jersey after being in a Viet Cong prison, slept with a bayonet under his pillow after “graduating” from sleeping in his closet for months. Or B., who was an “older” man, in my night class at Wagner College on the GI bill after Vietnam, making fabulous grades and spending every evening at the local bar, supporting “happy hour” ’til closing. Or G., who graduated high school in June 1965 and died in Vietnam before June 1966. And I would, with this odd emotional block of distance, contemplate my stepdaughter’s death.
WOMEN SERVING OUR COUNTRY IN VIETNAM
True to the author’s narrative, I knew no women who were in Viet Nam. It never occurred to me then, along with many gender issues that escaped my investigation, that women went to Vietnam. The Vietnam Women’s Memorial dedicated in 1993 honors those women and educates us.
CHANGED AFTER READING, aka takeaways
In a strange way, The Women gave me some acceptance of the unfairness of death, which somewhat reduced my anger at the cruelty that sneaks uninvited into our lives.
It’s not an easy book to read, but is so well-written without being maudlin. I can see how it could be tough, but required reading for generations of us who live through trauma or live with someone who suffers from trauma. Hopefully, we can look with more compassionate glances at people whose appearance or behavior, or life choices might be considered “odd” by our personal standards. It did that for me.
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle” – Plato
Ethel Lee-Miller blogs regularly about people, the power of words, and her writing life. She retired after 30 years of teaching, and semi-retired from coaching, and professional editing. Founder of the Eastside Writing Room based in Tucson AZ, she’s posted 100s of blogs, and is the author of Thinking of Miller Place, and Seedlings, Stories of Relationships. These days she writes to inspire, to connect with folks, teaching about the power of words, gather writers together, and for the pure enjoyment of it. Ethel enjoys teaching, speaking, and storytelling at Odyssey Storytelling, Artists Standing Strong Together, Center for Spiritual Living Tucson, and anywhere there’s a mic or a Zoom room.
