This novel created the idea behind my last two posts, and here is the promised review. Johnny Got HIs Gun is an anti-war novel that describes the plight of a soldier after he has gone and returned from WWI. The story describes the promising potential of the young man, ruined by his grievous injuries after returning from war. He has lost most of his face (including his eyes, nose, and mouth) as well as his arms and his legs. It’s a poignant and critical look at what war does to the people most impacted by it: everyday persons.
I wouldn’t say this book is gruesome in its descriptions, but the nature of the story goes into some difficult-to-read territory. The idea of someone missing most of their face isn’t pleasant to think of (which is the point!), but there aren’t any descriptions that would have made me put the book down. If you’re really squeamish, maybe re-think reading this one. Otherwise, you should be just fine.
What stood out to me more than the descriptions is that there are zero commas throughout this entire novel. That might not be factually correct, but there are very, very few of them, if any. This does make it a bit confusing to read at times, but after a while your brain begins to adjust to the style. I always find these style choices interesting (or infuriating, it depends on how much I like the rest of the book) because they can make the reading experience vary wildly from person to person. Some people will find this an unconventional and interesting way to convey the story, and others will find it totally unnecessary. I find I’m in camp one for this book, but it is not something I usually like or appreciate.
The reason for the lack of commas in this particular novel is because large portions are written as a stream of consciousness. The first sixty or so pages are about the main character, Joe (not Johnny, I know), waking up in the hospital after being gravely injured in WWI. He is floating in and out of consciousness, wading through memory and reality as he realizes the extent of his injuries. This stream of consciousness writing is to give us the same feelings of confusion and trepidation that Joe feels as he’s figuring out what’s happened to him. It makes a lot of sense in the context of the book and I understand why Trumbo chose this style. I do not think it’s poorly written at all, but before getting any further I will disclose that I personally highly dislike this style of writing. I don’t begrudge the author for using it, as I’ve said it does add to the experience of the story, I just also dislike it.
This book has a strong anti-war message as it talks about how everyday people are the ones who lose the most in times of war. Those enlisted and conscripted lose out for obvious reasons, but the book also forces us to think about the emotional impact of a loved one coming back from war having been horribly mutilated. Many veterans come back from war disabled, and it can put a strain on one’s relationship or family to have to now support this person. There are various degrees of this, but Trumbo chooses the most extreme route to create his provocative tale. Joe has lost all means of functioning on his own. There is no possibility he would have been able to rely solely on himself for care after his experience in the war.
After finally awakening from his plethora of procedures, Joe is horrified to realize what he’s become. Near the end of the novel, he decides he wants to go around showing people what has happened to him to bring attention to what war can do to young men. (Spoiler, maybe?) The powers that be forbid this, and Joe is shuffled to the back of everyone’s mind as he presumably lives the rest of his life in that hospital. It’s a heart-breaking story, and one that has been told time and time again. To that latter message, I do think other well-known anti-war books have told this story in a better way. All Quiet on the Western Front, Slaughterhouse V, The Things They Carried, and Catch-22 are all books that are about a similar subject and, in my opinion, were much more impactful to read.
Slaughterhouse V and Catch-22 are closer to Johnny Got His Gun in that they also have a sort of “gimmick” that makes the storytelling unique. The gimmick in Trumbo’s novel is the stream of consciousness style. It really takes us on the journey of Joe. The reader knows what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling; we’re in his head as he’s slowly realizing the extent of his injuries. I think it’s what attracted so many to the novel as parts of it are very powerful written this way.
In Slaughterhouse V, Vonnegut creates a unique take on the anti-war genre as his main character can travel through time. Now, Billy Pilgrim is probably not actually a time traveler, but this method of storytelling allows readers to experience the disassociation many veterans feel upon returning from war. He has trouble telling current events from past ones, and he struggles to stay in present-day reality. It’s another unique device that creates more of an experience for the reader than simply relaying the story in chronological order.
In Catch-22, another great anti-war novel, the gimmick comes in the form of the phrase the title itself refers to. A “catch-22” has become generally known as a paradoxical situation one cannot extract themselves from. It was coined from this novel, and is used throughout the book to show how the soldiers are trapped in the war effort. It’s a really unique way of describing the situation so that readers would understand how hopeless the idea of escaping the war was. The only way to escape the war in the book is to prove the war had driven the soldier insane, but wanting to escape a war is a very rational response in itself, so the soldier would be declared sane. Thus, they would not be dismissed from combat. It’s a paradoxical situation which also acts as an analogy for how paradoxical and cyclical war can be.
While still a great novel, Trumbo’s tactic fell flat for me in the face of the aforementioned books. It’s one of those situations where the writing style was a good choice, but may have been employed too heavy-handedly. It’s difficult to read at times due to the lack of punctuation, and the repetition of the style can become quite tedious. It almost makes it feel as though time isn’t passing, which is may have been an intention of Trumbo’s, but it made the book difficult for me to get through.
The main reason for my dislike in this case is that there are constant interruptions to the flow of the story. It makes sense as our thoughts (and Joe’s thoughts) don’t follow any kind of chronological order. We think of things as they come, and the topic of our thoughts can be completely opposite from one thought to the next. In this story, the writing often jumps from the present to a flashback, then to an allegory or analogy that is supposed to be a metaphor for war or humanity. I found that I would be supremely interested in an event that was happening (for example, when Joe first learns how to tell time), and then Joe would begin thinking of a flashback.
These flashbacks serve to humanize him and show the reader how he’s your “average Joe” (get it?), but I thought they were often unnecessary or repetitive. After the first sixty or so pages, he’s pretty humanized. Continuing this method throughout the novel didn’t seem to add anything to his character or the story. Instead, it disrupted the flow of events every my interest was peaked. I felt I had to slog through another tidbit of his life before I could get back to his journey in the hospital. Then, there would be an angry stream of consciousness about how America really screwed Joe, which was powerful the first few times, but became formulaic soon afterwards. This really took away from the strength of the message for me.
I do truly think it was a great style choice for parts of the book, though. The stream of consciousness in the beginning really does an excellent job of relaying Joe’s life without imparting it through monotonous exposition. We learn who he was as a young man, and what the things he misses most are. This makes it especially poignant when we later realize he will no longer be able to experience those things the way he once could. However, compared to the other books I’ve read in the same genre that have unique styles, I felt I didn’t appreciate this one nearly as much. That’s just my personal aversion to this style of writing.
My overall verdict is to read it, but to put it first on your list of anti-war novels. This way, your experience will grow with each novel you read, rather than resolve with a potentially lackluster experience. Here is the way in which I would read the novels I’ve mentioned in this post:
1) Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo
2) The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien
3) Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
4) Slaughterhouse-V by Kurt Vonnegut
5) All Quite on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
This is ranked for increasing enjoyment and impact from first to last. Johnny Got His Gun is definitely worth reading, but within the sphere of anti-war novels it is likely not the best-written or most impactful of the group. There are also many more excellent anti-war novels that I’ve not included in this very small list, so don’t think this is all there is to it. It’s just some suggestions to get you started, and to hopefully enhance your experience for reading Johnny Got His Gun. If you do really like stream of consciousness writing (Proust fans, where are you?) then maybe try reading the list from fifth to first.
The Lit Wiz