In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

| 91 4 The Transnationalization of Soldiers, Widows, and War Relief Soldiers’ Pay, William Faulkner’s 1926 novel about the fate of a Great War hero, is not a romance, although it has all the ingredients of one.1 Military aviator Lieutenant Donald Mahon lies wounded after the enemy shoots down his airplane over Flanders Field. His fiancée and his father both assume he is dead, until the pilot reappears miraculously in his hometown in April 1919 with all the potential for the reverence due for battlefield bravery. In Mahon’s pocket is a letter from his beloved, filled with expectations of chivalrous knights in battle undoubtedly heightened by the romantic aura surrounding the World War flying “ace.”2 Cadet Lowe, a fellow passenger riding the troop train headed for Mahon’s hometown of Charlestown, Georgia, envies the lieutenant’s facial battle scar for its heroic implication and, even when he discovers that the prodigal son is dying, wishes the disfigurement were his.3 But the moral clarity that defines the romance novel requires decisive direction and action subsequently taken, and Mahon, blinded by his wound and very nearly on his deathbed, sits motionless and completely helpless. Faulkner’s other characters in Soldiers’ Pay—Mahon’s father, an Episcopal Church rector; his buddies Joe Gilligan and Julian Lowe; his fiancée, Cecily Saunders; and war widow Margaret Powers—all confuse one another’s identities, mistake symbols for reality , and mix up the past with the present.4 Only the war widow, Margaret Powers, conducts her affairs with certitude, but she betrays no sense of her actions as morally righteous. The soldier she had spent three days with before marrying, Captain Richard Powers, died from a bullet purposely fired by one of his own men in the trenches of France. Margaret’s thoughts soon turn to what she will do with her dead husband’s insurance money: She will use it to tend to Lieutenant Mahon’s needs.5 But when Gilligan hears of her plans, he can’t quite make sense of them. 92 | The Transnationalization of Soldiers, Widows, and War Relief “Funny?” [asks Margaret]. “Sure. Soldier dies and leaves you money, and you spend the money helping another soldier die comfortable. Ain’t that funny?” “I suppose so. . . . Everything is funny. Horribly funny.”6 Having been robbed of a body over which to mourn in the case of Powers , she marries Mahon and presides, Persephone-like, over his death and burial.7 Far from eliciting a hero’s welcome, Mahon’s homecoming provokes confusion and quandary instead of clarity. Faulkner’s warriors, rather than being conventional romantic figures, are instead transnational and modern, according to literary critic David A. Davis.8 The term “transnational” refers to that which resides above or beyond the boundaries of the nation-state. In terms of historical scholarship it has been defined as a school of thought that takes as its starting point the interconnectivity of people around the globe and the flow of people and ideas across national boundaries; in the process, its adherents reexamine ties that continue to bind humans to citizenship within the nation-state. 9 U.S. war widows represented the nation-state when they journeyed overseas to pay homage to their soldier-husbands’ graves. Their trips were sponsored by the U.S. government and they waved flags as they placed wreaths festooned with national symbols at military cemeteries. But when war widows grieved over dead husbands, they engaged in an activity—mourning—that looked very similar no matter where, no matter in what nation, that grieving took place. Officially orchestrated expressions of bereavement, such as moments of silence or Memorial Day parades, involved war widows performing scripted, national roles; privately, widows mourned husbands killed in international conflicts across and above national boundaries. Elisabeth Macke penned her thoughts about loss early on in the war, when battles had gone largely in the German military’s favor. “My heart cannot be joyous over the big victory. Among our enemies are hundreds who feel and think exactly as we do: they have had to abandon everything, wife and child and home, and are going off to be slaughtered. . . . When you think about it,” continued Macke, “it is an abominable example of humanity that, given our sophisticated culture, such a war is still possible. Where is the humanity ?” In addition to her concerns for the human race, Macke compared her own situation with that of other war wives and found commonality there as...

Share