The Soldier’s Tale: A Discussion of “Can Anyone Here Know Who I Am? Co-constructing Meaningful...

DISCUSSION

The Soldier’s Tale: A Discussion of ‘‘Can Anyone Here KnowWho I Am? Co-constructing Meaningful Narratives with CombatVeterans’’ By Martha Bragin

Theresa Aiello

Published online: 25 June 2010

� Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2010

In his seminal essay The Story Teller: Reflections on the

Works of Nikolai Leskov, Walter Benjamin(1968) describes

the narrator of a story as a traveler, someone people imagine

has come from afar to tell their story to the ones who stayed

at home. Psychotherapists typically are the ones who stay at

home, listening to the tales of our clients. As therapists, we

may silently make judgments, expand our thinking, and find

new insights and dilemmas in the treatment process. Dr.

Bragin’s paper brings to mind various theorists who have

grappled with the purpose, role and manifestations of nar-

rative in the client-therapist dyad. Rimon-Kenan (1996) for

example, posits that the telling of a story can be an act of

mediation. A relational perspective would comprehend the

analyst and patient as co-constructing a narrative of

meaning in the patient’s life together. Psychoanalyst Roy

Schaefer (1992) suggests that the analyst retells the story,

embedded in the idea that there is a self to tell it to. Julia

Kristeva’s (2005) idea of the storyteller or patient in psy-

choanalysis is that he/she tells the story and merges with the

analyst in the telling. While I actually see no evidence for

this, except in psychosis, I do believe that our clients tell

their stories hoping to access that part of the analyst that

they feel can be empathic to them. Given this, what then is

the plight of returning combat veterans who find little solace

in recalling the horrors they have seen, even when they have

finally arrived home alive?

War stories, though easily followed in the abstract, are

much different in reality when the extreme, sometimes

irrational anger, that Dr. Bragin so eloquently describes,

emerges. In psychotherapy, these tales are filled with

fragments of narrative, often of the unspeakable, in what

Kristeva (2005) has called ‘‘trauma cadences’’—a term that

encapsulates not only the words and prosody of the frag-

mented narrative, but also any references and inferences of

the trauma. At times, trauma cadences utilize concepts of

phantasy, speaking to the inner turmoil evoked by trauma

in internal object relations. Dr Bragin’s discussion of the

‘‘social imaginary’’ as suggested by Elizabeth Lira (1995),

further contextualizes the concept of trauma cadences

within a societal framework, highlighting the conflict that

arises when veterans return home to a society that either

refuses or cannot acknowledge the horrors they have

witnessed.

In Lacan’s (1977) influential paper, ‘‘The Mirror Stage’’,

Lacan describes the experience of the sight of oneself in the

mirror. This experience is known as the Imaginary Regis-

ter: one can be captivated (as on a good day) or alienated

(‘‘this can not be me’’), by the reflection one sees (Lacan

1977). Social theorists have conceptualized the experience

of the register of the imaginary to encompass and incor-

porate feelings of ‘‘otherness’’. These are distortions in self

perception of identity and can include the experiences of

racism, sexism, homophobia, class prejudices, and preju-

dices of any sort that can make one feel alienated from

oneself and ostracized by, and from, the world. These

distortions can be real, such as in the world that has

underlying contempt for the returning soldier in an

unpopular war. Trauma certainly has that function of

altering identity. Dr Bragin, citing Lira (1995), poses a

potential problem for the therapists of combat veterans who

may have a need to explain ways in which everyone in

society has an idea about a particular piece of history,

regardless of its relation to reality. This reminds me of

T. Aiello (&)

Human Behavior Curriculum Area, Child & Family Focused

Learning Opportunity Program, New York University Silver

School of Social Work, 1, Washington Square North Room,

401, New York, NY 10003, USA

e-mail: theresa.aiello@nyu.edu

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Clin Soc Work J (2010) 38:327–330

DOI 10.1007/s10615-010-0281-6

Leon Festinger’s (1956) theory of cognitive dissonance—

an unwillingness to change one’s beliefs despite powerful

evidence to the contrary.

The warrior can be captivated by his/her own image for

the worst reasons: grandiosity, denial, splitting by way of

demonizing the enemy (who has to be demonized in order

to mobilize soldiers). The warrior can be alienated by being

forced to follow orders that lead to devastation, making

mistakes that take innocent lives, and seeing one’s com-

rades blown to bits. In turn, the therapist may only want to

hear what he or she wants to hear and may find intolerable,

the chaotic fragments of a narrative reflecting a violation of

all one holds dear. The therapist can also hold political

beliefs that subtly condemn the participant in combat.

These trauma cadences are rooted in Lacan’s (1977) Reg-

ister of ‘‘The Real’’. The ‘‘Real’’ is reality experienced by

an ego that is unmediated by defenses and functions, or the

experience of trauma as overwhelming a defenseless self.

The image of the warrior is iconic in literature, certainly

in myth and in popular dramas. In the myth of Odysseus,

there is a wonderful passage where Odysseus pleads with

the beautiful goddess Calypso, who has ensnared him and

holds him captive. Odysseus implores her to let him go

home and she is puzzled by this. She asks him how he can

resist her when she can be anything he could want: always

beautiful, perpetually young, any shape or form that he

could wish for (Homer 1998). Odysseus acknowledges this

but says he still misses his very human wife—he misses his

dog running up the path to great him, he misses the

ordinary sweetness of an everyday, dependable life…he

keeps repeating his wish to go home.

In reality, what happens to the soldier who finally gets

his wish? The home lost and idealized by time and under

duress, may no longer be the haven of peace and beauty,

the refuge it once was. In the story of Odysseus lies an

important element: the events that transpire for his family

while he is away. Telemachus, Odysseus’ son, has been

drawn into the family drama at a young age, having to

protect his mother, Penelope. Left to fend off the unwanted

suitors and thieves exploiting her household, Penelope

valiantly tries to defend herself using the same cunning her

husband was famous for (Homer 1998). As in the myth of

Odysseus, the family members of veterans, including their

children, are also drawn into the drama of the soldier

returning home.

Frank Lachmann and Beatrice Beebe (2002) have

described the concept of ‘‘Violation of Expectation.’’ Ini-

tially observed in infant research, this concept refers to

disruptions in what the infant might typically expect from a

caregiver. A confirmation of a predictable and reliable

environment is associated with a positive affect while a

Violation of Expectation is associated with negative affect

and has a disorganizing effect on infants (Lachmann 2008).

Though infants typically have the capacity to notice such

disruption and attempt to repair it (Beebe and Lachmann

2002), violations of expectation can ‘‘transform positive

affect into fear and frustration’’ (Lachmann 2008, p. 113).

Similarly, the soldier is faced with many versions of vio-

lation of expectation while in combat. It is important to

note that ‘‘neurophysiological evidence also suggests that

familiarity, repetition and expectancy constitute the most

powerful organizing principles of neural-functioning’’

(Cormier 1981; Gazzaniga and LeDoux 1978; Hadley

1983, 1989, as cited in Lachmann 2008, p. 115).

In the segment, ‘‘Dave’s Story’’, Dave describes himself

as a very gifted young man, whose talents were often

unrecognized until producing excellent exams (Bragin

2010). Similar to combat, Dave seems to prove himself at

the 11 h, much to his teachers’ amazement. I would pro-

pose that this is a ‘‘Model Scene’’ for Dave: that he hides

his abilities and sacrifices his competence until the hour of

proving himself arrives. He describes his idealization of a

father and his love of being around him, listening to his

stories. Dave strives to impress his mother, ultimately,

sacrificing himself to join the army, gratifying her wish that

the army might make something of his abilities. When

Dave’s talents as a ‘‘gunner’’ are used in his convoy, he is

again placed in an undesirable situation, required to do

something he initially did not want to do. Again Dave’s

abilities are exploited, this time in attempting to please a

‘‘messed up’’ operation, one that is impossible to gratify.

Although Dave is proud of his ability to use his own gifts

and cunning to save many of his comrades lives, he is

ultimately disillusioned by the ‘‘higher ups’’—leaders who

do not know what they are doing (not unlike Dave’s

mother, who unwittingly and perhaps unthinking, signs him

up for combat). The loss of illusion of his parents and his

superiors in the army, as dependable and reliable, is yet

another ‘‘violation of expectation.’’

Dave’s return is fraught with the images of trauma that

continually intrude on his life, affecting his ability to study

and to work. Lacan (1977) would call this the Register of

the Real: the ego without defenses that protect and mitigate

against overwhelming trauma. As with the myth of Odys-

seus, Dave’s family is also affected by the trauma that he

has endured, unable to comprehend what war has done to

him and ultimately, to their relationship with him.

In Psychoanalysis and the scene of reading, Jacobus

(1999) draws meaning from Bion’s (1977) paper ‘Caesura’,

pointing out that Bion uses ‘‘the metaphor of psychic birth

to point to the anxiety that accompanies all states of

change’’ (p. 158). Jacobus (1999) goes onto point out that

‘‘thoughts and feelings in transit—‘part of the process from

one idea to another’—are the catastrophic stuff of psy-

choanalysis’’ (Bion 1977, p. 43, as cited in Jacobus 1999,

p. 158). The pause between ideas is the caesura—‘‘the

328 Clin Soc Work J (2010) 38:327–330

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difference between merely enduring psychic pain and

being able to suffer it’’ (Jacobus 1999, p. 158). Grinberg

et al. (1975) believe that analytic work and mental growth

require ways to pass caesuras and to establish a bridge.

In the contemporary concept of ‘mentalization and

reflective functioning’ one learns to regulate emotion,

understand and appreciate the thoughts of others, and to

think on one’s affect on others and the world (Fonagy and

Target 1998). In citing Dan Siegel (1999), Bragin describes

the effects of exposure to violence on the brain by segre-

gating violent events outside of the narrative of meaning. I

would like to suggest that along with co-constructing a

meaning of self in treatment, the therapist may also be

experiencing new pathways neurologically to understand-

ing, sorting and processing problems of clients (Cozolino

2002). Does something similar happen to the brain of the

therapist as she/he also seeks new pathways to resolution

and understanding? Clearly it can be a stretch for a thera-

pist to provide the kind of mentalization required for a

combat veteran to reintegrate the dissociative experiences

of horror, especially if the therapist can not really accept

what he or she is hearing. Bion’s (1967) use of the ‘‘O’’

function is important. The ‘‘O’’ function for therapists is to

listen with an open mind free of plan, agenda and formal

knowledge so that the therapist can take in the client’s

communications, including projections, phantasies, and in

this instance, ‘‘trauma cadences.’’

Finally, in Dr Bragin’s deeply important suggestion of

the use of ritual for returning veterans, I am reminded of

Erikson (1959), suggesting that when young people enter

the work force for the first time they need to be welcomed

and assisted by the adults already there. Homecoming may

well require a specific ritual that honors commitment and

bravery as well as allow for reparation and atonement. I

suggest that family members need to witness such a ritual

as well, since they too will be affected by the new, unfa-

miliar person who has returned to them.

In Klein’s (1937) theory, reparation is needed to make

up for the violence in thought or deed regarding others.

This is also necessary to be able to experience and appre-

ciate beauty in life—splitting must be harnessed and

destructive envy controlled so as not to attack and destroy

what is deemed beautiful and provoking of envy (Meltzer

and Williams 2008). I can only imagine that at times, for a

returning veteran, the resentment towards those who have

no idea of what has been endured must be contended with.

In David’s case, much of his bitterness towards the mother

who ‘‘signed him on’’ to the military must be contended

with. The sweet, peaceable scenario of ordinary life can be

potentially enraging in and of itself, just as Odyssesus’

return home is now the scene of exploiters, greedy and

rapacious, wanting to possess what once was his and to

disavow him entirely. Life after all, continues to go on at

home while the soldier is away.

In the myth, Odysseus’ faithful servant recognizes him

by the scar on his foot. The scar itself becomes a metaphor

for healing. Klein (1937) believed that all of us must own

our own hatred, only then can it be reckoned with. This is

true for veterans but also for therapists, and as Dr Bragin

has specified, we need to ‘‘bring all of our knowledge to

bear.’’ This may require, however, departing from our

preconceived ideas and listening with what Bion (1967)

has called the state of ‘‘O’’: the empty mind that can accept

projections of all kinds and contain them.

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Author Biography

Theresa Aiello is Associate Professor and Chair of Human Behavior

at the New York University School of Social Work. She is also Co-

ordinator of the Child and Family Focused Learning Opportunity for

the NYU Silver School MSW program. Dr Aiello was recipient of the

New York University Distinguished Teacher Medal. Dr Aiello is

author of Child and Adolescent Treatment for Social Work Practice:

A Relational Perspective for Beginning Clinicians, The Free Press.

She has been consultant to numerous clinics and social service

agencies and has presented her work internationally at Psychoanalytic

and Narrative conferences.

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