A review of Purple
Hearts by Nina Berman
Trolley, Ltd. (Great Britain)
Hardback, 96 pages, with 41 color photographs
When you get to the end of Purple Hearts,
you won't know what to think. But you will be thinking.
In
this short and spare book, photojournalist Berman has collected pictures of
19 American servicemen and one servicewoman who are now discharged after being
severely wounded in Iraq since the March 2003 U.S. invasion. Each soldier gets
four pages: one full-page portrait; one full page containing some of the soldier's
own words; a small portrait captioned by a summary explanation of their injury
and the date and location the pictures were taken; and a page with one concise,
large-type pull-quote from their words (which the photographer presumably decided
was the most vital statement in their interview) in a field of black.
The layout is striking in its simplicity and unflinching candidness, and the
pulled quotes announcing each new casualty are generally the kind of statements
that are bound to provoke a visceral reaction in the reader. A picture of a
blind amputee's new prosthetic leg is flanked by the quote, "It was the
best experience of my life." Another amputee stands on crutches with an
inscrutable face, opposite the quote, "If they want to go see Allah, we'll
send them." The captions on the small pictures describing the victims'
injuries, and where and how they sustained them, are kept short and to the point,
without any florid description, which piques the reader's interest in examining
the interview and portrait to follow for the full story on who this person is,
how their injury has affected them, and how they feel about their situation
now.

That buildup of curiosity and interest is seldom fully satisfied by either
the words or the pictures that follow. The "interviews" are not interviews
in the traditional question-answer format, but instead a short collection of
seemingly incomplete and unrelated sound bites from what one must assume was
a much longer, more interesting, and more nuanced conversation. A lot of what
does appear in the written portions reads as very flat and unexpressive. Most
of these sections cover no more than a third of the blank page dedicated to
them, and it is frankly frustrating to think that the author either didn't delve
deeper into her subjects' hearts and minds with her questions, or didn't choose
to let her readers in on the details.
All this griping is not to say, however, that the interviews are without merit.
There is much that sticks with the reader. It is startling to read how many
of the soldiers say something to the effect that they have no regrets about
their service. To the contrary, some even say that it was the best time of their
lives. But many also admit that military life, particularly combat, was nothing
they expected. It is downright painful to read many of the soldiers' accounts
of growing up watching war on TV and in movies, and perceiving from these media
translations of war that it is fun, exciting, and glorious. A fair proportion
of the veterans say that the military seemed like the best shot they had at
getting out of a bad neighborhood, at finding a future … but now they're right
back where they began, at a larger disadvantage than ever. Perhaps the worst
of all is reading a few of the soldier's statements that they just liked the
military because there was always an order, always something to do, and they
felt good just doing something. For the most part, the soldiers take a very
traditional "heroic" stand. They are proud of what they've done and
who they are, and they have very few questions about what their government sacrificed
their physical and mental well-being for. Frankly, overall, they sound much
less upset than you would expect about their life-changing new handicap.

By the end of this book, you might be so frustrated and full of questions that
you want to throw it. What's wrong with American education, that kids think
they can't do anything else besides join the military, or find order and "something
to do" without someone telling them what to do? What's wrong with American
homes and neighborhoods, that kids feel like running away to fight and risk
their lives in another country is preferable to sticking around or trying to
improve their situation here? How can the media be so irresponsible as to portray
war as "fun," and how can parents, society, and the American government
allow future soldiers to believe what they see? How can these veterans not ask
more questions about what they were doing there and what it was worth? I was
also left wondering if the brave, stoic, and confident stance in these interviews
could possibly be solid and constant, or if for some reason these young men
and women just felt like that's the way they had to present themselves publicly
in order to preserve their honor and that of their country. More forebodingly,
I had to wonder if they would be singing the same tune 10 or 20 years from now.
But being left with all these questions is not necessarily a bad thing. Americans
could certainly stand to ask a few more questions about our country, our government,
and our society, as opposed to plugging their ears, believing everything on
TV, and wrapping themselves in the flag and their SUVs in bumper stickers reading
"God Bless America." The very complacency reflected in most of the
soldiers' interviews works to incite the reader to ask all the questions these
veterans don't, and that alone is enough to give credence and value to this
book. One would hope this was Berman's very purpose in keeping the interviews
so short and sweet.
The portraits are generally excellent in composition, clarity, and color, as
could be expected from a photographer with close to 15 years experience who
teaches at the International Center of Photography in New York and can boast
credits with National Geographic and a slew of other major magazines
worldwide. Unfortunately, these photos seldom do more than scratch the surface
of the people they portray. Most of the victims in the pictures are quite young,
18-25, and their very courage and the innate pathos in their tragedy say enough
to make the photographs worthwhile. But while we almost always see a clear picture
of the subjects, their faces, and their injuries, in varied surroundings, we
seldom see any emotion or personality. Most of the subjects wear hard, blank,
guarded expressions and sit or stand in poses as strong and heroic as possible.
It is possible that this is all part of the training they received so recently,
and the way they wanted to be represented, or perhaps the "dryness"
of the pictures can be chalked up to Berman's style as a journalist, and her
efforts to avoid sensationalism and dramatization, which is laudable. But as
with the interviews, the reader is left without a clear picture of who these
people are, and what differentiates one from another. This takes away from one
of the book's major strengths, which is giving an individual name, face, and
personality to a few of those cold and meaningless statistics.

Ironically, the picture that makes the boldest statement in the book is the
bright, un-captioned photo that covers the inner binding and first and last
pages of the book; a stark juxtaposition of the American flag behind the green
fatigues of a traditional army uniform. Though perhaps slightly misplaced in
this book of Iraq casualties (one would assume most Army soldiers in Iraq wear
the lighter brown desert fatigues), the image makes an excellent opener and
closer. When seen upon opening the book, it is almost familiar enough to be
overlooked. Yet the juxtaposition resonates throughout the following pages,
in the words, faces, and lives changed that follow. As one soldier in the book
says, "Our military involved in conflict … that's what makes us America."
By the time the same picture appears at the end, it carries a whole lot more
baggage, as we now see in it not only the familiar bright and glorious image
of America and its armed forces, but also the full truth about what this marriage
implies – the pictures of young Americans missing parts of their bodies forever,
psychologically damaged beyond hope. And those are just the survivors. Just
20 out of 8,039 Americans injured in
Iraq to date.