Book Review: ‘Gothic War on Terror: Killing, Haunting, and PTSD in American Film, Fiction, Comics, and Video Games’

Book Review: ‘Gothic War on Terror: Killing, Haunting, and PTSD in American Film, Fiction, Comics, and Video Games’
U.S. marines continue to search for victims, on Oct. 31, 1983, after a terrorist attack against the headquarters of the U.S. troops on 1983 in Beirut. PHILIPPE BOUCHON/AFP via Getty Images
Dustin Bass
Updated:

Danel Olson is known in the academic and film world for dissecting the psychology and history behind well-known films, like “Pan’s Labyrinth” and “The Shining.” His latest works have delved into the fictional creations inspired by the September 11 terrorist attacks and the Global War on Terror that ensued over the following two decades. His latest work, “Gothic War on Terror: Killing, Haunting, and PTSD in American Film, Fiction, Comics, and Video Games,” is a follow-up to his riveting work “9/11 Gothic: Decrypting Ghosts and Trauma in New York City’s Terrorism Novels.”

Olson diligently extrapolates what Fyodor Dostoevsky famously coined as art imitating life by asking fundamental psychological questions and addressing some very disturbing psychological trends and affects that have stemmed from the attacks and the wars. The author revolves his studies around what he terms the “military-industrial-entertainment complex.” This phrasing alone should give the reader pause into just how beneficial Hollywood and the term President Eisenhower made famous, “military-industrial complex,” are to each other.
An American flag flies at half-mast in front of the air-traffic control tower at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago Sept. 12, 2001, one day after the terrorist attacks on New York City's World Trade Center. (Tim Boyle/Getty Images)
An American flag flies at half-mast in front of the air-traffic control tower at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago Sept. 12, 2001, one day after the terrorist attacks on New York City's World Trade Center. Tim Boyle/Getty Images

One can trace back that history to World War II and its propaganda films; but that war has long been considered (and rightfully so) to be a “just war,” while the following wars―from Korea to the present―are, at times, more difficult to justify, with several leaving the American people disheartened by their conclusions, arguably none more so than the recent exit from Afghanistan.

Olson utilizes “gothic” creations to address the aftermath of the past 20 years. Much of his analysis centers on soldiers (fictive and real), writing to the reader, “We have to ask of them: Why rush to what waits out there to abduct, shoot, starve, torment, or behead you? Our American novels, comics, films, and video games from 2002 to 2022 can offer some intriguing ideas.”

‘Avenger Guilt’

Probably the most powerful topic Olson discusses in his book is what he calls “avenger guilt”―the compilation of “confusion, ethical fog, and survivor guilt, along with the corrosive shame and sense of injustice.” Olson establishes this term early when he compares and contrasts the 9/11 and Global War on Terror (GWOT) novels with the real-life consequences of the actions of soldiers, interrogators, and CIA members. This idea courses throughout the book as it covers all the aforementioned works of fiction.

This “avenger guilt,” which those on the lower rungs (outside of the “need-to-know”) are saddled with, revolves almost categorically around Olson’s question of “what is the ethical difference between state violence (torture and killing for a declared nation) and that of non-state violence (injuring and killing for a cause, for the downtrodden, for a religious or political movement)?” The operative word in that question is “ethical.” For as Olson states in the next sentence, “They are both abhorrent and beneath the pale of the civilized.”

These are hard questions and even harder answers that Olson gives. Regardless, they are both necessary to ask and ponder (whether the reader agrees with the author or not). Olson gives little wiggle room for readers who may take offense to his suggestions, as there is plenty to be offended by in the work.

The author, however, does pull his punches politically, seemingly going out of his way to safeguard Democrats from criticism, yet not doing the same for Republicans. Those political punches are few and far between, but were enough to notice. For a work that is not politically driven, Olson’s light touch of diplomacy is not even-handed.

Soldiers with the U.S. Army's 10th Mountain Division rest along a ridgeline following a patrol near Pul-e Alam, Afghanistan in 2014. (Scott Olson/Getty Images)
Soldiers with the U.S. Army's 10th Mountain Division rest along a ridgeline following a patrol near Pul-e Alam, Afghanistan in 2014. Scott Olson/Getty Images

To further reduce the amount of wiggle room for readers, the author doesn’t simply rely on the psychological make-believe of fictional characters or the psychological suppositions of those who study issues, like post-traumatic stress, but he cites reports concerning the CIA, defense contractors, and The Hague, of all which include admissions of torture and murder, and the request for accountability.

There are those who are concerned that enabling The Hague to charge and prosecute Americans would inevitably dissolve the nation’s sovereignty. Whether that line of thinking is correct or not (and that line of thinking is addressed in the book), it is not the major concern of the book.

The major concern Americans should have, which is the focal point of the book, is: What are we creating in our future generations? What traumas and hauntings is the American government and military promoting among its fighting men and women under the guise of righteous anger, the pursuit of peace, and the greater good? A guise that, as Olson suggests, has all but lost its original meaning.

The GWOT in many ways has become an echo of the Vietnam War, where the military-industrial-complex and politicians seem to prioritize military advancements and dominance, or political points, over actual resolutions. The soldiers find themselves stuck in the middle having to do the dirty work, which proves to leave just as much mental, emotional, and spiritual dirt, as it does physical.

An Accurate Comparison?

Olson’s comparisons between reality and gothic recreations of that reality requires the reader to ask: Is this an accurate, or even proper, comparison? Has modern America built a Frankenstein’s monster (a consistent and apt reference in the book)? Has our political grandstanding in the world by preaching the gospel of peace and democracy actually promulgated the very opposite?

The author’s video game example, “September 12th: A Toy World,” provides a cynical answer. The game was created in 2003 and was designed so that when a terrorist is targeted by a missile, there is a momentary delay between command and point of impact, which results in the death of the terrorist as well as innocents. Each strike births more terrorists, leaving the player searching for an acceptable terrorist-to-civilian death ratio that can never be achieved. The game, just as in the real GWOT, has no conclusion; it is played until the player is too frustrated to continue.

Christian Bale as the Dark Knight. (Warner Bros. Pictures)
Christian Bale as the Dark Knight. Warner Bros. Pictures

One of the more interesting comparisons in the book is between the GWOT and Christopher Nolan’s “Batman Trilogy.” The analogies between Batman as America, and the Joker, Bane, Scarecrow, and Ra’s al Ghul as versions of terrorists or terror groups are apt. Olson further digs into the idea of America as Batman rather than Superman, reiterated by Michael Caine, who played Alfred in the films: “Superman is the way America sees itself, but Batman is the way the world sees America.” Readers may nod in agreement with Caine, as does Olson, at least through the eyes of the camera lens, writing “Christopher Nolan and his co-writer brother Jonah Nolan perfected Batman as a Gothic figure looming, brooding, hovering, waiting to drop from a tower and visit disaster to his deserving prey, and this may be our vicarious dark delight with this divided figure.”

Olson has accomplished an engaging and thought-provoking exercise in Dostoevsky’s conception of art and reality. Whether the comparisons are fair and accurate will be up to the reader, but there is no doubt that there is enough correlation between the two to make a convincing argument.

Furthermore, Olson displays a real concern for the mental and spiritual health of those who fight wars in the name of freedom and democracy, and how it may be best to use a more critical eye concerning America’s future efforts. It is a fascinating work that will force readers to look deeper into the short-term, long-term, and multi-pronged effects of the GWOT.

"Gothic War on Terror: Killing, Haunting, and PTSD in American Film, Fiction, Comics, and Video Games": A fascinating study of how fiction reflects the War on Terror’s psychological effects. (Palgrave Macmillan)
"Gothic War on Terror: Killing, Haunting, and PTSD in American Film, Fiction, Comics, and Video Games": A fascinating study of how fiction reflects the War on Terror’s psychological effects. Palgrave Macmillan
‘Gothic War on Terror: Killing, Haunting, and PTSD in American Film, Fiction, Comics, and Video Games’ By Danel Olson Palgrave Macmillan, Jan. 2, 2023 Hardcover: 346 pages
Dustin Bass
Dustin Bass
Author
Dustin Bass is an author and co-host of The Sons of History podcast. He also writes two weekly series for The Epoch Times: Profiles in History and This Week in History.
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