@pequod42 This is a pretty good version!

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This line sets up an antithesis between the location of the “Corpse in the paddy” and the “dead on a high hill” to convey death’s ubiquity in the landscape (which might be more easily conceived with the help of the above picture depiction North Korean prisoners of war). The contrast between the singular, specific “Corpse” and the more general “dead” in the line also contribute to this.

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In his review of McGrath’s Selected Poems 1938-1998, Christopher Buckley cites this poem as an example of McGrath’s focus on “the politics of nations” (p. 84). But for such impersonal and broad subject-matter (especially with the altered “Asia” title), the first lines convey the tragedy of these deaths in their unfolding. They begin with all the trappings of a formal lament: a subjunctive verb appealing to god, a regular iambic meter, and above all an emphasis on love. But with the phrase “if no one else will ever,” the tone darkens. Not only does it introduce the theme of forgetting, but it also implicates the reader in this forgetfulness.


Buckley, Christopher. Rev. of Selected Poems 1938-1988, by Thomas McGrath. Western American Literature 24.1 (1989): 83-84. JSTOR [JSTOR]. Web. 17 Oct. 2015.

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The Department of Defense’s DCAS cites 33,739 “total hostile deaths” of US soldiers during the Korean War (25 June 1950 – 27 July 1953). Nevertheless, this war is known as “the forgotten war” because of how little public attention it received. Interestingly, some of the nuances of the Korean War qua “forgotten war” are contained in the history of this poem’s title.

In our anthology, this poem is titled “Ode for the American Dead in Korea,” and it’s listed under the “Korean War” section. But Goldensohn points out that the title of the poem, “originally published in 1972 was emended to read ‘Ode for the American Dead in Asia,’” presumably in light of the Vietnam War. Goldensohn uses this fact to advance her thesis that

…wisdom gained in the literature about the Vietnam War has come to shape our understanding of other wars, past or future (330).

Although we hope that this is true, we should also take a step back and ask what it means for McGrath to change the title as he did—from an American perspective, is it that easy to swap out the precise “Korea” for “Asia,” the largest continent on Earth?


Goldensohn, Lorrie. Dismantling Glory: Twentieth-century Soldier Poetry. New York: Columbia UP, 2003. Print.

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The phrase “I got to” gets repeated throughout the story, first said by Pete as he convinces his family he must leave, but then also by the narrator. The narrator’s question about the firewood exhibits his innocence and highlights the importance of going—familiar worries like having enough firewood fall away easily in the face of this nebulous need to “go.” The phrase’s ambiguity contains a central question of the work: What is the nature of patriotism? On the surface, the phrase might seem synonymous with saying “I really want to go,” but the phrase also connotes a sense of moral obligation. Perhaps such earnest patriotism involves an obligation beyond morality.

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Despite what critics had to say, Faulkner stood by “two soldiers,” and when asked why, he cites his admiration for the young narrator’s authenticity:

I like it because it portrays a type which I admire— not only a little boy, and I think little boys are all right, but a true American: an independent creature with courage and bottom and heart— a creature which is not vanishing, even though every articulate medium we have— radio, moving pictures, magazines— is busy day and night telling us that it has vanished, has become a sentimental and bragging liar (Selected Letters p. 184, as cited in Miller p. 39).

While authorial intent shouldn’t influence our judgement of the text itself, Faulkner’s perspective sheds light on the central problem of this piece (at least from the perspective of many critics). How can we distinguish authenticity from sentimentality, especially when we only see the world through this eight year-old boy’s eyes?


Faulkner, William. Selected Letters of William Faulkner. Ed. Joseph Blotner. New York: Random, 1977.

Miller, Shawn E. “Returning to Faulkner’s “Two Soldiers”.” The Southern Literary Journal 44.2 (2012): 38-50. Web.

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Inspired by World War II and written for the readers of a popular magazine, the story is an expression of fervent patriotism. Though it is obviously the work of a fine craftsman, the tale is a slick magazine story that offends with its gushing sentimentality and its cuteness (p. 259).

So begins Edmond Volpe’s critique in his widely-cited A Reader’s Guide to William Fualkner: The Short Stories. And he isn’t the only critic to tear into “Two Soldiers.” As Miller puts it in his far more charitable take on the story, “Two Soldiers is not the kind of story a literary critic is supposed to like” (p. 38). However, the opposite is true for everyone else. This story was immensely popular, and this affected how critics received it. Miller continues,

To say that commercial and popular success has played a role in the story’s failure among highbrow critics is not mere speculation; beginning with Leslie Fiedler in 1950, many such critics have themselves said as much (p. 39).

You might question why a story with such mixed reception among “highbrow critics” should appear in this anthology, but that may be exactly why we must include it. It raises fundamental questions about how we judge and talk about literature— what, exactly, does it mean for a story to have too much “sentimentality”?


Miller, Shawn E. “Returning to Faulkner’s “Two Soldiers”.” The Southern Literary Journal 44.2 (2012): 38-50. Web.

Volpe, Edmond L. A Reader’s Guide to William Faulkner: The Short Stories. N.p.: Syracuse UP, 2004. Print.

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To fully understand the extent of Twain’s frustration with journalists' responses to the massacre, it’s worth taking a look at what these papers actually reported.
On 11 March 1906 the New York Times article on the matter looked like this:

While the initial reference to women and children killed promises honesty, the rest of the paper quickly equivocates. They were not slaughtered, but “mingled with warriors and fell in hail of shot,” which seems to attribute the blame to the women and children themselves for “mingl[ing].” The headline concludes by noting the president’s approval of the number of people killed.

The Outlook, another popular paper at the time, published a brief article on 17 March 1906 that completely misses the point:

The loss to the Moros was about six hundred killed. This includes, it is reported, many women and children who were held by the Moros in their stronghold. The disparity in the losses of the two forces is a significant illustration of the inequality between an army with antiquated arms and insufficient training in an almost perfectly defended position and an army with arms of precision and military science compelled to attack a seemingly impregnable fort.

Although this last article was published after Twain wrote his piece, it shows the extent to which journalists refused to report candidly on US military policy, even after people like Twain began to protest.


“The Battle in Joro.” The Outlook [New York] 17 Mar. 1906, 82nd ed.: 582-83. Print.

“Women and Children Killed in Moro Battle.” New York Times n.d.: n. pag. Web. 29 Sept. 2015. http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?res=9A0DEED7103EE733A25752C1A9659C946797D6CF.

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