Scranton - War Porn

Copyright 2016 by Roy Scranton

Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction from THE COLLECTED POEMS OF WALLACE STEVENS by Wallace Stevens, copyright 1954 by Wallace Stevens and copyright renewed 1982 by Holly Stevens. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

The Dragon by Abd al-Wahhab al-Bayyati, translated by Farouk Abdel Wahab, Najat Rahman, and Carolina Hotchandani, from IRAQI POETRY TODAY 2003 by Modern Poetry in Translation. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.

Panegyric for Abu l-Fadl Muhammed Ibn al-Amid and Panegyric to Kafur on joining his court by Abu at-Tayyib Ahmad ibn al-Husayn al-Mutanabbi al-Kindi, translated by A.J. Arberry, from POEMS OF AL-MUTANABBI 1967 by Cambridge University Press. Reprinted with the permission of Cambridge University Press. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments,

organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used ficticiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the authors imagination and are not to be construed as real.

Published by

Soho Press, Inc.

853 Broadway

New York, NY 10003

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Scranton, Roy, 1976

War porn / Roy Scranton.

ISBN 978-1-61695-715-5

eISBN 978-1-61695-716-2

1. Iraq War, 20032011Psychological aspectsFiction.
2. CombatPsychological aspectsFiction. I. Title

PS3619.C743 W37 2016 813.6dc23 2016011288

Interior design by Janine Agro, Soho Press, Inc.

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Dedicated to the interpreters

Soldier, there is a war between the mind

And sky, between thought and day and night.

Wallace Stevens

babylon

rage forth, bold hero & man of war, you have no

flood documenting her lament, no legal recourse in re: administrative decisions on the matter of

torture TV rage the

rockets red not singly but in global consensus: vanquished by my spear, the highest levels of the Department beginning a world with no tomorrow

such is the word of man. We lurch to a halt. Humvees! Abu sayselectroshocks about a half mile off, down the end of a wide, empty

bombs bursting dawn countryvictorious unless

Draw your wound. Defend the gun.

The will to prevail. Gods blessings upon youthe importance Arabs place on honor cherished and protected above all else, sometimes circumventing even the need for survival. Even the need. Even constructive criticism can threaten or damage an Arabs honor; it will be taken as a personal insult. The Arab must, above all, protect himself and his honor from critical onslaught. Therefore, when an American is confronted with criticism, you require a yes or no, such as

FIGHT EVIL

peace merciful, most compassionate, the government agreed: made of values to kill God in remote deserts

FULL STORY

Allah does not desire soldiers committed to patrol the day of calling out, sniper police under no savior for you from Allah devised a way to get them masters in Washington for the least of those who arrested them in the first place: suicide bombings killed hundreds, GWOT authors of the latest detainee to be released for fear that any and all the world sees America

themselves

the heart of the TV and

sizable Kurdish, Assyrian, Palestine. The Kurds farm in the north and these groups inability to reconcile their differences prevent them from forming a unified front against the Arab population forced

blood

yet he believes in the possibility of goodness and the triumph of ideas, believes in the father of democracy and the leader of nations, like he believes in the natural pairing of compassion and discipline, love and

images become

electroshocks

which will, with the muj behind us and trigger happy

have come today therefore pointless to question the political shrapnel not only nails and patients believing that

assailants, victims of IED attacks can exsanguinate not trusting the next level could even

those

have therefore learned during the first few months of the war, it took not knowing who or what is past in what feels like her lament, no recourse, how things are done: luckily, the Red Cross jumped right to some real-time global consensusThat was not the sound of a world with no tomorrow.

does there not pass over man a space of time

when his life is a blank?

strange hells

(columbus day, 2004)

Lifting the flowers, letting them drop. Asters and chrysanthemums, zinnias and goldenrodextravagant for a barbecue maybe, but fuck it. A little reckless beauty my mark on rockface. Remember youre the one who got your shit together and youre the one who changes tires. Youre the one who rode out here with him and now youre the one whos waiting. I was all-state soccer once, MVP. I can read stress lines in bones dug from mass graves. We know what comes next: we fly home, I teach and go back to school, I have his baby. Thats the plan. But here I am killing time and going a little crazy. Why are we still here?

Dahlia fussed with the flowers, their separate stems, the whole bouquet. That friend Wendy was bringingAaronhad just come back, shed said. What would it feel like, do something like that? Break a world in two and walk away?

Would it change you?

Had it?

She looked at Matt out through the window, sitting there in his lawn chair drinking beer, his face in the fading sun so kind, his wounded eyes, his belly. He doesnt see her, lost in thought like he is so often. And just who is this man of mine? Whos this guy desiccating in the scrub grass, who brought me to the desert like a Mormon wife, whos come this far for what, whos doing what, and what is he, this man, what kind of man?

The questions a cool black stone. She washed her hands, took the parsley from the colander to the counter and daubed it dry, then picked up her Wsthof santoku and cut.

Kerosenes sweet tang, barbecue shimmering, watching the sun sinking slow behind the edge of the redrock. Matt checked his watch, wondering how long till he could justifiably open another beer, then heard the screen creak and turned, watching her cross the yard: summer skirt brushing her legs, the lean muscles in her arms tense with the weight of the food, the firm curve of her breasts under her blue tank top. Here was beautya form compact and efficient, round at the edges yet taut, small and smooth and sleek. Then he looked in her face, her pale lips frowning slightly, the tiny wrinkling at the corners of her eyes, her clenched jaw.

The scherzo came to an end. Toom, toom, the march began and Dahlia squinted at the boombox: What the heck you listening to?

Chopin, Matt said.

Oh Lord, she said, putting the tray of steaks, salmon, and tofu on the picnic table, stepping to him and laying her palm on his chest. You alright?

Yeah, Im fine, he said. Just thinking.

Well, knock it off. Were supposed to be having a party.

He shambled up and jabbed at the machine, cutting the piano into silence. Here, he said, handing her the wallet, pick something. As she flipped through the discs, he asked: Who called earlier?

Wendy, she said. What about Jolie Holland?

Whatd she want?

She wanted to know if she could bring a friend. Catalpa or the new one?