Book Review: Dispatches

Released to tremendous and universal critical acclaim, Michael Herr's' Dispatches has become almost a literary icon for the war in Vietnam. The book is a kaleidoscopic account of Herr's time in Vietnam as an independent reporter of the war. Michael Herr writes with a style which is almost helter-skelter in it's use of rapid, quick firing images. The effect which helicopters (a central image in the book) have had on his deep sub-conscious surfaces in the 'whoop-whoop-whoop' pace of the writing.

The book is thrilling to read, full of anecdotal material about the group which Herr hung out with (including Tim Page and Sean Flynn) as well as containing lots of detail about the Grunts with whom Herr spent a lot of time in the field. In many ways the events of the narrative are presented from a drug induced perspective so that in some ways it is abstracted from reality whilst retaining almost crystal clear and insightful views of that reality which would not normally be discernable by other means.

Throughout the narrative, Herr captures in words what his friend, Tim Page, managed to capture on film, namely that war is an extremely personal experience for those who fight it and those who observe it up close and in the end it numbs our sensitivities. At the same time it can be an exotic experience to those involved and quite often represents the ultimate in intimacy - soldiers who face death together every minute of their day develop relationships of tremendous depth. Invariably though, these relationships are only transient and time-place dependent since no combat soldier can afford the emotional luxury of such feelings amidst such horror.

There exists a constant juxtaposition between the reality of the war in the field and the unreality of the war in the rear, in particular in Saigon. The ebb and flow of the book hinges on this contradiction. Just a few klicks from the decadence of the 'jewel of the Orient' Herr's fellow countrymen where dying on a daily basis. This infinite gap between the appearance and the reality of war also applies to that gap which, despite repeated attempts to cross, exists between Herr himself and the soldiers of whom he writes. Herr constantly tries to impress upon the reader how much he identifies with the Grunts but ultimately, as the Grunts themselves point out, the war for Herr is an indulgence not a necessity.

In many ways the style of the narrative matures as it progresses which in effect parallels the maturing view of the war in Michael Herr himself over the period of time he was there. What starts out as an amazing and almost glamorous adventure, narrated in a punchy, fresh and exhilarating style, slowly undergoes a transition towards a somber and often dour refection upon war itself. This for me is what enables the book to transcend the limitations of a simple narrative about war. Herr's gradual realisation that a report of the war, no matter how insightful the recollection, can never portray the truth of the experience as perceived by the Grunts who were fighting it. Despite his longing to be one of them, Herr remained an outsider, denied access to the inner circle, the brotherhood of arms, because in the end he was not a combatant.

There can be no doubt that Dispatches is a classic in it's genre and yet I nonetheless have some reservations about both the book itself and the reviews which it attracted. I certainly do not think it is the best Vietnam book ever written and neither do I subscribe to the view that Herr and his compatriots are to be commended as 'champions' of the Grunts whom they reported on. In many respects the book is an indulgence of an adolescent fantasy about war which finally turns around and bites the writer. Herr was there, he was scarred by the experience, but he was not a combatant and one is constantly reminded of this by his frequent sojourns back in Saigon. When the war got too much for him Herr, like many others on the fringe of the war, possessed a safe haven and the comforts of drink, drugs and women. The soldiers in the field, with whom Herr suggests he identifies, had to stay put while he helicoptered out. In the final analysis Herr was a reporter, a civilian, making a living on the war without contributing in any way to the actuality of the conflict except to record glimpses of it for posterity.

Dispatches is a good book, possibly a great book, and certainly ranks amongst those books which I would consider as a 'must read'. Writers such as Herr, while not necessarily contributing as combatants nonetheless make a huge contribution to our perception of war itself. This book is about nobility amidst futility, it is about a noble endeavor pursued by ignoble methods - ultimately it is about the death of innocence.

Reviewed by Mike R