A review by lindsusmarinsus
Where Men Win Glory: The Odyssey of Pat Tillman, by Jon Krakauer
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
3.0
I finished the fourth book I’ve read by Krakauer, “Where Men Win Glory,” about former NFL player Pat Tillman’s life and death by friendly fire in Afghanistan, and the ensuing coverup that followed.
.
I’m a big fan of Krakauer’s work; I think he does an amazing job of examining the larger cultural context that surrounds and influences a person’s actions and decisions. This “no man is an island” approach allows us to understand his subjects within the greater scope of their worlds (“Under the Banner of Heaven” is a stunning example of this). Tillman left behind a great many diaries that afforded Krakauer an insight into the mind of this surprising, imperfect person who died, Krakauer concludes, not because of his faults, but because of his virtues.
.
The book is, as you might expect, terribly sad; it’s sad because of how small, senseless, and pointless everything feels, a sentiment Tillman – who, on one hand, was eager to see action and get involved in a firefight – also felt; he believed the War in Iraq was illegal and was largely dismayed at his involvement, which he nevertheless chose to go through with, despite opportunities to leave the Rangers. Krakauer portrays Tillman warts and all: we see his propensity to give in to his temper (he beat a man he didn’t even know so badly that the guy required multiple dental surgeries, and the judge let Tillman off easy so as not to hurt his football career), we see his sexism…but we also see a man who, by all accounts, was nevertheless constantly pushing to improve himself, to think deeply and ready widely, and who was kind almost to a fault to everyone he met while enlisted. He hated the yelling, dominate-for-the-sake-of-rank culture of the military and made a point of welcoming new recruits.
.
Despite the in-depth portrait of Tillman, the book left me somewhat disappointed. Krakauer spends too much time recounting, often play-by-play, football games of old (and I’m a huge football fan) or firefights and battles that don’t come to life on the page. We get a lengthy examination of the Jessica Lynch hoax, admittedly because it served as the precursor to the military’s strategy of using disinformation and lies to create self-serving propaganda out of people’s lives (and deaths). Only the last 60-70 pages are devoted to the actual government cover-up and betrayal of the Tillman family. While Krakauer’s total disgust of the government’s actions comes through (as does that of Tillman’s fellow soldiers, who were forced to be part of the cover-up and are still processing the trauma and fallout from his death and what followed), there’s a fatalistic tone toward the end, a strange detachment, as though Krakauer grew so revolted by the whole thing that he just wanted to wrap it up and be done with the story.
.
Not Krakauer’s strongest work, but nevertheless a powerful story. Unfortunately, Krakauer stated on Instagram that he’s retired from writing, which is a shame; I hope he changes his mind someday soon.
.
I’m a big fan of Krakauer’s work; I think he does an amazing job of examining the larger cultural context that surrounds and influences a person’s actions and decisions. This “no man is an island” approach allows us to understand his subjects within the greater scope of their worlds (“Under the Banner of Heaven” is a stunning example of this). Tillman left behind a great many diaries that afforded Krakauer an insight into the mind of this surprising, imperfect person who died, Krakauer concludes, not because of his faults, but because of his virtues.
.
The book is, as you might expect, terribly sad; it’s sad because of how small, senseless, and pointless everything feels, a sentiment Tillman – who, on one hand, was eager to see action and get involved in a firefight – also felt; he believed the War in Iraq was illegal and was largely dismayed at his involvement, which he nevertheless chose to go through with, despite opportunities to leave the Rangers. Krakauer portrays Tillman warts and all: we see his propensity to give in to his temper (he beat a man he didn’t even know so badly that the guy required multiple dental surgeries, and the judge let Tillman off easy so as not to hurt his football career), we see his sexism…but we also see a man who, by all accounts, was nevertheless constantly pushing to improve himself, to think deeply and ready widely, and who was kind almost to a fault to everyone he met while enlisted. He hated the yelling, dominate-for-the-sake-of-rank culture of the military and made a point of welcoming new recruits.
.
Despite the in-depth portrait of Tillman, the book left me somewhat disappointed. Krakauer spends too much time recounting, often play-by-play, football games of old (and I’m a huge football fan) or firefights and battles that don’t come to life on the page. We get a lengthy examination of the Jessica Lynch hoax, admittedly because it served as the precursor to the military’s strategy of using disinformation and lies to create self-serving propaganda out of people’s lives (and deaths). Only the last 60-70 pages are devoted to the actual government cover-up and betrayal of the Tillman family. While Krakauer’s total disgust of the government’s actions comes through (as does that of Tillman’s fellow soldiers, who were forced to be part of the cover-up and are still processing the trauma and fallout from his death and what followed), there’s a fatalistic tone toward the end, a strange detachment, as though Krakauer grew so revolted by the whole thing that he just wanted to wrap it up and be done with the story.
.
Not Krakauer’s strongest work, but nevertheless a powerful story. Unfortunately, Krakauer stated on Instagram that he’s retired from writing, which is a shame; I hope he changes his mind someday soon.