I'm curious about what other people made of Robinson's enigmatic response. In class, Mohit suggested it was an attempt to dissociate himself from his actions in Vietnam. I'm assuming in this view, he saw "reconciliation" as the direct subjugation of Robinson's freedoms to the "needs" (or more accurately power) of the state - and was placing the burden of his actions on the State. In my own view, I saw it as the reconciliation of the ideals. Robinson isn't an anarchist, he seems to feel a need for a state. But in war, he had to come to terms with the inconsistencies between his ideal of freedom and his ideal of state. Similar to Arnold's Folklore, Robinson previously viewed States as actors themselves. But in war, he fully realized that a state can only act through its individuals. Rather than dissociating himself from his actions, he recognizes the essential incongruity and disconnect in those concepts and "reconciled" them. His ideals didn't match reality, but he accepts the moral consequences of his actions. Part of my belief that he isn't dissociative comes from the quickfollowing anecdote about "C. Robinson". C as in "See what you have done".

-- StephenSevero - 17 Feb 2010

I too have been mulling that over. I tend to agree with the dissociation argument, not because of the meaning of the phrase, but because the phrase, in and of itself, means so little. Robinson doesn't just deliver a terse "reconciliation of freedom and the state" - he "lectures" the narrator at length. He responds to an intimate question about his personal experience with a monologue about abstract ideas. It's a diversionary tactic, a means of shielding oneself from a harrowing experience by translating it into a safe(r) academic theory. But the truth seeps out anyway, filtered but no less potent: the narrator remembers those words verbatim. The phrase is powerful not because of what it says, but because of what it doesn't say.

The C.C Rider moment underscores Robinson's tendency to protect his inner self by sleight of hand (or in his case, sleight of phrase). Rather than reveal what the C. really stands for, he cracks a joke, referencing the old blues song about an "easy rider" woman (you made me love you, now your man done come). I like your reading of that moment, though, Stephen: it ties in well with the weight of his unspoken experience in Vietnam.

-- CarolineFerrisWhite - 17 Feb 2010

My initial thought was that you can accept a truth without wanting to talk about it. But going back over it, I think you're right. Robinson "lectured" him on the phrase, he didn't rant and explode like he did talking about the legal system. Robinson's inability to shut up about his work - Joseph is almost unable to get in a word edgewise - supports the idea that he really loves what he's doing now, despite how messed up it all is. When he spoke about war, it's in the clipped, academic voice. When he speaks about his job, he's the "fucking vulgar guy" he really is. Of course, it could also be just a general product of aging and getting more comfortable speaking about things. I wonder what Robinson would say now if asked about Vietnam.

-- StephenSevero - 17 Feb 2010