During every war, the media yearns for a human-interest story. As weapons become more… During every war, the media yearns for a human-interest story. As weapons become more mechanical, and battle more impersonal, there is an urge to put a face on a cause, to give the abstractions of war – presented as courage, pain and hope – a symbol.
In the Iraqi conflict, Jessica Lynch, a 20-year-old West Virginian private first class, is that symbol.
Since her rescue from an Iraqi hospital, the media has surrounded Lynch with a deluge of hype. Her story is told in jump-cuts, stitched together from sources reliable and not, and custom-polished by a press eager to make this woman, so often described as “waif-like,” into a symbol of wholesomeness and bravery.
As the details of her capture and rescue are revealed, I believe that the courage the media ascribed to her is true. It’s the rest of it that I don’t believe.
I like descriptions. They are what turn catching a fish into harpooning Moby Dick’s little brother. Yet if the words waif-like are mentioned in conjunction with Jessica Lynch again, I’m going Dog Day Afternoon.
Waif-like is more than a physical description. It indicates weakness, frailness, a tendency towards pallor and big, searching eyes. These are not attributes fitting with Lynch’s actions.
Lynch went through boot camp. She marched all over the desert. She sustained severe injuries when her Humvee collided with a tractor-trailer. There were bone fragments sticking through her skin. She received medical care that one of her Iraqi doctors admitted to The Washington Post, in a June 17 article, was “substandard.”
These details do not add up to the quaking flower the press has described. If the United States’ viewing and reading audiences want to hear about the girl-next-door’s rescue, then they’re going to have to accept that next door lives a solider and not something that withers and folds.
Lynch’s ordeal was just that: an ordeal. It takes guts to go through whatever she did – for her story has been subject to multiple revisions – and survive. Being injured severely in an unfamiliar country where you were both welcomed and hated would be terrifying.
Bitch Magazine, one of my favorite outlets for wholesale, um, bitching, has a list where people post complaints about the media. One that impelled me to write this column stated that media coverage, particularly the Newsweek cover story in which Lynch was featured, turned her “into little more than a marketable symbol of American virtue,” rather than the “bona fide war hero” she should be portrayed as.
Lynch was no Andromeda, chained helplessly to a rock, about to be devoured by a sea monster until Perseus rescued her. Mythology is full of rescues, epic efforts, and the maiden falling into the bulging arms of hero.
But Lynch’s story should not be mythologized before it is told accurately. The Washington Post printed a long article recounting this happening’s reporting and misreporting, saying that much of her reported trauma was embellished and exaggerated. This doesn’t detract from Lynch’s courage; it merely raises questions about the press’s credibility.
Shouldn’t going into war, being wounded and living through it be enough? Why sentimentalize, editorialize and assign ill-fitting descriptions? Why must she be waif-like to be sympathetic, or passive to be rewarded with coverage?
If we want someone to represent our ideals, he or she must be portrayed accurately.
Sydney Bergman can be reached at sbergman@pittnews.com.
From hosting a “kiki” to relaxing in rural Indiana, students share a wide scope of…
Pitt women’s basketball defeats Delaware State 80-45 in the Petersen Events Center on Wednesday, Nov.…
Recent election results in such states have raised eyebrows nationwide, suggesting a deeper shift in…
Over the past week, President-elect Donald Trump began announcing his nominations for Cabinet secretaries —…
Pitt professors give their opinions on what future reproductive health care will look like for…
Pitt police reported one warrant arrest for indecent exposure at Forbes and Bouquet, the theft…