Tim O'Brien - "The Things They Carried"

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How many of us have come to a “crossroad” in our lives? A life-altering decision needs to be made, but we do not know which way to go or what to do. It seems like no matter which decision we make it will be the wrong one. What are the consequences of choosing? Which one is less painful? Which one will benefit us more? Or not? How will our lives change by our decisions? How will our decision affect the lives of our family and friends? This is the situation that Tim O’Brien faced in his chapter, “The Rainy River“.

As O’Brien finally hit rock-bottom, he felt his only answer was to run. Run fast. Run far. Run away. He needed solitude to help him face the fact that he was either going to war, (possibly to die) or fleeing with his life to another country, possibly never to see his family again. What would people think of him by the choice he inevitably was going to make?

I feel that the moment O’Brien stopped at the old Tip Top Lodge and stood face-to-face with Elroy Berdahl, he was staring at his conscious. During O’Brein’s stay, the old, skinny man asked no questions and gave no advice. As O’Brien said, the man had an “almost ferocious silence”. They worked side-by-side during the day, shared dinner in the evenings without a word being said. No words needed to be said. Yet.
As the days passed, the pressure mounted on his chest. O’Brien was literally sick by the two choices that loomed before him. On the final day of his stay, O’Brien and Elroy take to the river. The moment he realized that they had crossed onto the Canadian side of the river, he knew he was at freedom’s gate. As his past twenty-one years of life flashed before him, so did his future. However, the fear of embarrassment overtook him and he knew he would choose war. He felt helpless.

As O’Brien sits in the boat, loudly crying, and the realization of the choice he has made sinks in further I remember this moment from the chapter most: “His eyes were flat and impassive. He didn’t speak. He was simply there, like the river and the late-summer sun. And yet by his presence, his mute watchfulness, he made it real. He was the true audience. He was a witness, like God, or like the gods, who look on in absolute silence as we live our lives, as we make our choices or fail to make them”.

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