"All Quiet on the Western Front" by Erich Maria Remarque

When writing a story about war, there is always the chance of accidentally glorifying some aspect of it. Even the grittiest war movies have cool explosions, after all. In this sense I think that a book is the perfect medium for a story like this. There is no chance of accidentally undermining the harrowing experiences that Paul goes through.

All Quiet on the Western Front is not subtle, and I sincerely appreciate that. Though the main message is effectively screamed at the reader by every main character, there’s still quite a lot within to think about and digest. Criticism and cynicism about nationalism, the glorification of war by the layman, the callous disregard for the individual soldier and their experiences, and an impassable disconnect between a country’s leader and the men made to die for him.

War destroys men. The horrors of war have evolved over time— the trench warfare of World War One was particularly vile for a plethora of reasons— but dreams are ground into dust by them all the same. It’s unnerving to read, a retelling of a history long past that still echoes in the present.

And at the end of it all, what was the point? When Paul dies, it isn’t noteworthy to the men who sent him out to the front lines. But his family, like so many others, is left destroyed all the same.