In The Red Badge of Courage, Stephen Crane employs a blunt, detached, and sometimes sardonic tone that deflates myths about war as a heroic endeavor. Henry, the novel’s protagonist, joins the war in hopes of “witnessing a Greeklike struggle.” Like the heroes of classical tales he might have encountered growing up, he wants to find adventure and distinguish himself in battle. But Crane doesn’t shy away from gruesome depictions of wounded men, moments of cowardice in battle, or officers displaying callous disregard for their soldiers’ lives. After his first battle ends in a humiliating retreat, Henry runs into a dying soldier who turns out to be his friend, Jim. Describing Jim, Crane writes:
Another had the gray seal of death already upon his face. His lips were curled in hard lines and his teeth were clinched. His hands were bloody from where he had pressed them upon his wound. He seemed to be awaiting the moment when he should pitch headlong.
Crane’s stark, almost deadpan description of events that are devastating to Henry—seeing a comrade rendered unrecognizable by battle—emphasizes the chasm between the young man’s expectations of war and the grim reality he encounters. This unsentimental tone is very much in keeping with Crane’s allegiance to the Naturalist movement, which emphasized grim depictions of social ills.
The Red Badge of Courage is deeply rooted in Henry’s perspective, but Crane renders his thoughts in summary and with a distant tone. The reader is privy to Henry’s inner life, but never quite dwells in Henry’s mind. For example, when describing Henry’s worry, ahead of his first battle, that he might betray himself by fleeing, Crane writes:
He felt alone in space when his injured comrade had disappeared. His failure to discover any mite of resemblance in their view points made him more miserable than before. No one seemed to be wrestling with such a terrific personal problem. He was a mental outcast.
While Crane tells the reader exactly what Henry is thinking here, the prose is formal, brusque, and in no way represents a flow of spontaneous thoughts. Crane often uses a high register to illuminate Henry’s interior life—here, Henry describes fears as “a terrific personal problem” and bemoans his status as a “mental outcast”—to emphasize the juvenile and petty nature of Henry’s thoughts. In this case, Henry’s preoccupation with his capacity (or lack thereof) for personal heroism betrays his wild misconception of what war is actually like. When he experiences fighting for the first time and realizes how insignificant his own actions are in the course of a battle, these concerns will seem even more absurd than they do when originally rendered in this slightly mocking tone.
Crane only allows himself to slip into a lyrical tone when describing the beautiful natural environment surrounding the battle. Frequently personifying the weather and the forests surrounding the armies—he writes that the fog “lay wallowing on the treetops” and, later, that the trees formed a chanting “chorus”—Crane allows the reader to believe that nature is attentive and sympathetic to the distress of humans like Henry. But the fact that the natural environment never changes, despite the brutal war and rampant deaths, gives these descriptions a sarcastic tone and ends up reinforcing the novel’s grimly unsentimental attitude.
In The Red Badge of Courage, Stephen Crane employs a blunt, detached, and sometimes sardonic tone that deflates myths about war as a heroic endeavor. Henry, the novel’s protagonist, joins the war in hopes of “witnessing a Greeklike struggle.” Like the heroes of classical tales he might have encountered growing up, he wants to find adventure and distinguish himself in battle. But Crane doesn’t shy away from gruesome depictions of wounded men, moments of cowardice in battle, or officers displaying callous disregard for their soldiers’ lives. After his first battle ends in a humiliating retreat, Henry runs into a dying soldier who turns out to be his friend, Jim. Describing Jim, Crane writes:
Another had the gray seal of death already upon his face. His lips were curled in hard lines and his teeth were clinched. His hands were bloody from where he had pressed them upon his wound. He seemed to be awaiting the moment when he should pitch headlong.
Crane’s stark, almost deadpan description of events that are devastating to Henry—seeing a comrade rendered unrecognizable by battle—emphasizes the chasm between the young man’s expectations of war and the grim reality he encounters. This unsentimental tone is very much in keeping with Crane’s allegiance to the Naturalist movement, which emphasized grim depictions of social ills.
The Red Badge of Courage is deeply rooted in Henry’s perspective, but Crane renders his thoughts in summary and with a distant tone. The reader is privy to Henry’s inner life, but never quite dwells in Henry’s mind. For example, when describing Henry’s worry, ahead of his first battle, that he might betray himself by fleeing, Crane writes:
He felt alone in space when his injured comrade had disappeared. His failure to discover any mite of resemblance in their view points made him more miserable than before. No one seemed to be wrestling with such a terrific personal problem. He was a mental outcast.
While Crane tells the reader exactly what Henry is thinking here, the prose is formal, brusque, and in no way represents a flow of spontaneous thoughts. Crane often uses a high register to illuminate Henry’s interior life—here, Henry describes fears as “a terrific personal problem” and bemoans his status as a “mental outcast”—to emphasize the juvenile and petty nature of Henry’s thoughts. In this case, Henry’s preoccupation with his capacity (or lack thereof) for personal heroism betrays his wild misconception of what war is actually like. When he experiences fighting for the first time and realizes how insignificant his own actions are in the course of a battle, these concerns will seem even more absurd than they do when originally rendered in this slightly mocking tone.
Crane only allows himself to slip into a lyrical tone when describing the beautiful natural environment surrounding the battle. Frequently personifying the weather and the forests surrounding the armies—he writes that the fog “lay wallowing on the treetops” and, later, that the trees formed a chanting “chorus”—Crane allows the reader to believe that nature is attentive and sympathetic to the distress of humans like Henry. But the fact that the natural environment never changes, despite the brutal war and rampant deaths, gives these descriptions a sarcastic tone and ends up reinforcing the novel’s grimly unsentimental attitude.
