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Alan’s War: The Memories of G.I. Alan Cope
by Emmanuel Guibert
Translated from the French by Kathryn Pulver
First Second, 2008. 336 pages.

I do not like to use the word genius because of its ability to divide some people from the rest of us. But I can think of no better description for the French author Emmanuel Guibert.

Guibert strives to invent a new artistic style for each work that he illustrates. He has drawn goofy, almost grotesque children’s characters for Sardine in Space and photorealistic landscapes of rural Afghanistan in The Photographer. But while his artistic explorations reveal a constant desire to challenge himself, his brand of genius does not emerge from self-absorption. Rather, it is Guibert’s abounding generosity that sets his work apart. He doesn’t just write well — he listens with the patience of Vasudeva.

Alan’s War: The Memories of G.I. Alan Cope embodies Guibert’s skills perfectly. He pioneered a new water color technique that transforms each panel into a vibrant, sensuous image. And he turns the story of an ordinary American soldier into an extraordinary tale because of his own patience for detail. It is no surprise that Alan’s War took eight years for Guibert to produce. Released in three volumes in France, we are fortunate to enjoy the collection in a single American work.

Friendship in the Countryside

Alan’s War emerged from a friendship between Guibert and the retired soldier Alan Cope in the French countryside. Captivated by Cope’s ability to spin a good yarn, Guibert began illustrating some of his friend’s stories. The book meanders along, indulging in Cope’s episodic and associative memories. We see Cope’s idyllic childhood in California before he is drafted into the army as a teenager. He trains to become a radio operator and moves through the ranks of the U.S. army until he is shipped off to Europe. Somehow he maintains a positive attitude through it all:

I don’t care. It’s MY adventure, it’s MY war adventure, and I’m not going to let myself… Because, you see, I HAD to go to war, I had always thought, I’m going to think of this as an adventure, I’m not going to be afraid, I’m not going to say that it’s a personal tragedy, I’m going to act like everybody else. And maybe that’s why I was never scared. It’s a strange thing, but I was NOT afraid during the war. I had decided once and for all that whatever would happen, would happen.

This upbeat attitude makes Cope’s travails both endearing and insightful. He suffers through deprivation like the rest of the soldiers but manages to enjoy life all the same. In the midst of rowdy army camp life, he discovers opera and plays tennis. Given a boring desk job in Europe, he befriends some local Austrians and learns to climb in the Alps. He finds friendships in remote places with peoples from different walks of life, from Gypsies to Czech aristocrats. He does not discriminate between race or class. He also constantly strives to learn from those around him.

The War Inside

The title of this book is somewhat misleading. For Cope does not engage in any direct military battles. The major fighting in World War II has already taken place or is being fought elsewhere. Cope’s most dangerous experiences are all inflicted by his own army: falling from a ladder, a near miss by a falling tree during a tank exercise, or warding off a violent drunken soldier.

This memoir is really about Cope’s own internal war of self-discovery. He strolls through towering stands of redwoods along the California coast, searching for god, or delves into German literature. His life has been indelibly shaped by World War II, and he continues to work for the military long after the war has concluded. But he just wants to know what he’s doing in the world, and why he’s doing it.

After 18 months, I came to the conclusion that I hadn’t lived my own life. I hadn’t lived the life of MYSELF. I had lived the life of the person others had wanted me to be; that’s different. And that person had never existed.

This startling realization comes late, when Alan is in his 50s. Yet it is enough to transform him into the reflective philosopher that helped him befriend Guibert.

Wars-Heroes-Wars

War stories, as I have written before on this site, are inherently risky to review. For we are so eager to identify heroes in mindless carnage that we end up creating more of it. War makes heroes so we make war.

In Alan’s War, heroes abound. They just aren’t the gun-toting kind.

–Deji Olukotun