Doug Rawlings ou les répercussions de la guerre du Vietnam en 2022 Creusée dans la capitale de notre pays Par le sabot fendu D’encore une autre De nos guerres tropicales Glissant à côté des noms De ceux dont les blessures Refusent de se cicatrizer Glissant a côté du panneau Où mon nom aurait été Aurait pu être Aurait peut-être dû être» «Ne
parlez jamais de la guerre
Au présent, Encore moins à la voix active» «Écris
quelque chose
N’importe quoi Putain de merde Ça ne te tuera point tu sais Du moins, pas plus Qu’il ne l’a déjà fait». Dernier jour au Vietnam enterrant ton Visage Dans la boue devenant la boue je te prie mon Dieu Je t’implore fais-moi disparaître ne pas être moi Et je ne voudrai jamais plus être rien de plus». Qui se glisse dans Dover Air Force Base Chargé des cercueils d’étain Drapés en rouge, blanc et bleu Je le sais, je le sais Je dois me comporter comme si De rien n’était» Pendant que je regarde une video granuleuse de la guerre D’un grand père vietnamien L’avant-bras de chair tendineux». Ce
recueil de Doug Rawlings est illustré par Robert Shetterly dont les
croquis
illustrent beaucoup de poèmes. Ce recueil de poésie publié en 2022
confirme que
les traumas de la guerre sont présents à cause de traces indélébiles
dans la
mémoire et cela malgré les années qui passent. Aucune guerre n’est
anodine et
le poète Doug Rawlings évoque encore la douleur de «sa guerre». Benaouda LEBDAI
Doug Rawlings, La fille dans la photo et autres poèmes, traduit de l’américain par Daniel Gunn, Skowhegan Maine, Kellscraft Studio, 2022 |
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A COLUMN by BENAOUDA LEBDAI Doug Rawlings, or Repercussions of the Vietnam War in 2022 Wars are sources of misfortune, of tragedy, whose repercussions are difficult to measure in terms of time. Traumas, as analyzed by the psychiatrist Cathy Carruth, can sometime not be perceptible in the short term. Indeed, the poems written in American English by Doug Rawlings and translated wonderfully into French by Daniel Gunn, a professor at the University of Farmington, show how much the memory of the Vietnam War remains present despite the passing of time. The poetry collection The Girl in the Photograph and Other Poems is well worth a look, because it is a source of inspiration in saying that we cannot sweep aside what soldiers of the Vietnam War suffered, once they returned to their country. The Vietnam War has been the subject of powerful texts, novels, plays. The horrors of this war, the atrocities that took place in it, have been exposed by filmmakers like Francis Ford Coppola in Apocalypse Now. And so one might think that we are now finished with literary works about the Vietnam War--but this collection by Doug Rawlings proves the opposite. This work shows that we are not finished with the consequences of the Vietnam War, insofar as they are experienced by soldiers who returned living but damaged. In the autumn of his life, Doug Rawlings has published poems that he has written over the course of years, poem/reflections, poem/resentments, which reveal hidden traumas with profound consequences. The images are still present, the faces obsessively recalled, like those of children, tragic memories that will never be erased. The final reflection is that America has learned nothing about this war or its psychic consequences for soldiers. The poet took a long time to publish these writings, which have a particular depth. Writing to salve his conscience is one possible explanation, but it seems to me that the former Vietnam soldier wanted to leave a message as a legacy for his family, his children, his grandchildren. The motives are multiple—like leaving a trace in Maine, a place that I have had the pleasure of visiting, where peace and nature have a powerful impact. The poet hopes for a life free from war for his children and grandchildren. He knows that this hope doesn’t seem justified currently, as wars proliferate. Still, how do the feelings and resentment of Doug Rawlings express themselves in these poems? First, his free verse lines are permeated with guilt:
Descending into this declivity
dug into our nation’s capital by the cloven hoof of yet another one of our country’s tropical wars Slipping past the names of those whose wounds refuse to heal Slipping past the panel where my name would have been could have been perhaps should have been Moreover, a strong feeling of anger comes out, especially since the silence of the soldiers who returned alive from the war is required by those in high places: Never speak of war
in the present tense let alone with active voice Here the rebellion is perceptible, since the soldiers are said to have sacrificed themselves for “the country,” but they know that they have “wasted” it. The conscience of the soldier that he was dictates the necessity to say something about what he has lived through:
Write something
anything god damn you It won't kill you, you know. At least not anymore than it already has. The style is at once poetic and combative, in order to express the violence of the war: Incoming! You caught out in the open
last day in country burying your face in the mud becoming the mud please dear God please make me disappear not be me and I’ll never ever want to be anything more ever again But American soldiers die and silence is called for:
November comes on to me like a C-130
slinking into Dover Air Force base laden with tin caskets draped in red, white, and blue I know, I know I should just let it be In this collection Doug Rawlings expresses his resentment about what he calls “a crazy war . . .to rage, pillage, and rape.” He creates a parallel between his granddaughters and Vietnamese children: I watch my granddaughters grow up
. . .
as I watch grainy footage from the war of a Vietnamese grandfather, forearms of sinewy flesh . . . This collection by Doug Rawlings is illustrated by Robert Shetterly, whose sketches exemplify many of the poems. This poetry collection published in 2022 confirms that the traumas of war remain present because of the indelible traces it leaves in memory, despite the years that have passed. No war is harmless, and the poet Doug Rawlings still remembers the pain of “his war.”
Doug Rawlings
The Girl in the Photograph and Other Poems Translated from American English by Daniel Gunn Skowhegan, ME:Kellscraft Studio, 2022 |