So it came to pass that as he trudged from the place of blood and wrath, his
soul changed. He came from hot plowshares to prospects of clover tranquillity, and
it was as if hot plowshares were not. Scars faded as flowers.
– Stephen Crane
(The Red Badge of Courage, Ch. 24)
Behold, the grave of a wicked man, And near it, a stern spirit. There came a drooping maid with violets, But the spirit grasped her arm. “No flowers for him,” he said. The maid wept: “Ah, I loved him.” But the spirit, grim and frowning: “No flowers for him.” Now, this is it — If the spirit was just, Why did the maid weep?
– Crane
(“Behold the Grave of a Wicked Man”)
A man went before a strange God — The God of many men, sadly wise. And the deity thundered loudly, Fat with rage, and puffing. “Kneel, mortal, and cringe And grovel and do homage To My Particularly Sublime Majesty.” The man fled. Then the man went to another God — The God of his inner thoughts. And this one looked at him With soft eyes Lit with infinite comprehension, And said, “My poor child!”
– Crane
(“A Man Went Before a Strange God”)
A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”
– Crane
(“War is Kind,” fragment)
(Tomorrow, 1 November, will be the 143rd anniversary of the birth of American writer
Stephen Crane (1871-1900), best known for his Civil War novel, The Red Badge of
Courage, but also a journalist and a prolific and somewhat iconoclastic poet. Born
in Newark, New Jersey, Crane spent a term or two at Lafayette College and Syra-
cuse University, but by 1891, he was working for the New York Tribune as a reporter
and publishing occasional articles in magazines. The Red Badge of Courage was
first serialized in the Philadelphia Press in 1894 and appeared as a book the next
year, fully establishing Crane’s reputation. In 1897, he joined an expedition to Cuba
but was shipwrecked and spent 30 hours at sea in a dinghy, an experience he used
to frame his story, “The Open Boat.” Later, he served as a correspondent in both
the Spanish-American and Greek-Turkish wars, but that strenuous regimen under-
mined his health, and he died of consumption at a resort in Germany in 1900, only
29 years old. In another of his poems, he wrote,
“There was a man with a tongue of wood Who essayed to sing, And in truth it was lamentable. But there was one who heard The clip-clapper of this tongue of wood And knew what the man Wished to sing, And with that the singer was content.” )
A scene from the 1951 movie version of The Red Badge of Courage, with Audie
Murphy as Henry Fleming and in the middle, the beloved World War II cartoonist
Bill Mauldin (of “Willie and Joe” fame) as the Loud Soldier. (See my QOTD of
two days ago.) :
Interesting test1