Tim O’Brien: Metafiction Superhero

Metafiction has been technically defined as “fiction in which the author self-consciously alludes to the artificiality or literariness of a work.” To leave it at this simple statement, though, is to cut away the true beauty of the technique. In his novel, The Things They Carried, Tim O’Brien’s use of metafiction is crucial to the plot—calling it artificial ignores the true sense of humanity that he infused into his novel through this technique. Are the events of the story strictly the truth? No, but O’Brien’s interjections explain just why, exactly, that does not diminish the story, but enhance it. The use of metafiction in The Things They Carried serves to humanize and humble the characters, further emphasize the exploration of critical themes, and present the audience with emotions in a way that a traditional novel simply could not. It is safe to say that the story would not be the same without it.

Though the Vietnam war was, at its core, inhumane, the same cannot be said of the soldiers fighting in it. Certainly not of Jimmy Cross, Tim O’Brien, and their company. Of course, there are elements of horror all throughout O’Brien’s work, but there are also moments of brotherhood, bonding, and love. Even the horrific actions performed by the soldiers themselves, while not excusable, are understandable. They attempt to do whatever they can to ease their pain, keep their hope alive, and retain some of their dignity. Those motivations do not in any way, shape, or form lack humanity. In fact, they showcase it. To be human is to make mistakes and show emotion, and nothing emphasizes this fact in The Things They Carried better than Tim O’Brien’s use of metafiction. The chapter titled “How To Tell A True War Story” is a particularly good example of this:

How do you generalize? War is hell, but that’s not the half of it, because war is also mystery and terror and adventure and courage and discovery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love. War is nasty; war is fun. War is thrilling; war is drudgery. War makes you a man; war makes you dead. The truths are contradictory. It can be argued, for instance, that war is grotesque. But in truth war is also beauty. For all its horror, you can’t help but gape at the awful majesty of combat (O’Brien 76-77).

O’Brien would never casually speak these sentences—they were made to be written down—and this is where his metafiction thrives. With this explanation, he is speaking directly to the readers, saying things explicitly that may not have been implied implicitly. These words embody the idea that humans, like truths, are inherently contradictory—we say one thing, but mean another. It is socially unacceptable to make war appear as a good thing, as it should be. But it also makes sense that soldiers have a much different view than that of ordinary citizens. By speaking to the audience in this way, he showcases the duality of man; the fact that the soldiers are simultaneously missing the war and ashamed of the fact that they are missing the war.

Not only is metafiction in The Things They Carried crucial for readers’ understanding of the characters and their conflicting emotions, but it also accentuates the themes that are so central to a deeper comprehension of the novel as a whole. One of the most central themes, for example, is the idea that “story truth,” or the emotions attached to an incident, is often more true than “happening truth,” or the actual, real events. While this theme would come through without the use of metafiction, it certainly presents the idea in a way that is more easily digestible and understandable. In the beginning of the novel, for example, O’Brien presents his readers with the fact that every story he tells is true. This is contradicted, however, when he later states that “Almost everything else is invented. But it’s not a game. It’s a form. Right here, now, as I invent myself, I’m thinking of all I want to tell you about why this book is written as it is. For instance, I want to tell you this: twenty years ago I watched a man die on a trail near the village of My Khe. I did not kill him. But I was present, you see, and my presence was guilt enough” (O’Brien 171). While disappointment over the fact that the stories readers have been told are not as true as they might have believed, this manipulation of the facts only makes the novel more powerful. By telling his story this way, O’Brien helps his audience understand that the pieces that matter the most, the emotions, are the truest thing in the work. It is hard to read this collection of stories and not feel something; when it is finally revealed that the events have been—technically—falsified, that only makes it more clear how deeply connected and guilty O’Brien feels over the horrors he witnessed—guilty enough that it seems almost easy for him to write himself as the villain. The reveal, while telling of O’Brien’s struggles with PTSD, also heavily supports the idea of story truth being more important than happening truth. Did O’Brien literally kill the other man? No, but just witnessing the trauma is enough to send him over the edge.

Without the use of metafiction, The Things They Carried simply would not be the same novel. Readers might still get a grasp of the emotion and trauma behind the war itself, but Tim O’Brien’s engagement with his audience takes their capacity for empathy to another level, adding a completely different element of understanding. In a traditional novel, it is easier to feel a sense of being on the outside looking in. While the story may still elicit emotions, there is no direct connection between reader and author—the barrier of space and time stands strong. While breaking the fourth wall does not literally forge that type of connection, it makes the words more personal. Instead of talking to some nameless, faceless person, it feels as if O’Brien is talking to you, the reader. Storytelling is an art, no matter what form it takes. But there is no doubt that receiving a story firsthand, in person, is a completely different experience. As much as possible, metafiction allows authors to emulate the experience of verbal narratives; Tim O’Brien truly uses this to his advantage, and his novel is better because of it.

As witnessed with the exploration of the idea of story truth, emotions, rather than the actual specific events attached to them, are incredibly important to the plot of the novel. On the surface, The Things They Carried is a story of the war in Vietnam. It illustrates the actions soldiers take, the choices they make, and the people they lose. In reality, though, the novel is an exploration of the mental toll of war, not the physical. O’Brien and his friends were never able to fully rejoin the world outside of war; their experiences changed how they saw their environment and the people around them, and that is almost more important than the physical injuries they suffered in Vietnam. Tim O’Brien skillfully employs metafiction to support this idea, just as he does for major themes and character development. He is able to prove just how much the story is built upon complicated feelings, and what the effect would have been had he not placed so much importance on them. This is illustrated in the chapter “Notes,” which expands upon his explanation of the impact of the war on Norman Bowker: “Beyond that, though, something about the story had frightened me—I was afraid to speak directly, afraid to remember—and in the end the piece had been ruined by a failure to tell the full and precise truth about our night in the shit field” (O’Brien 153). “Notes” as a whole is a prime example of metafiction—O’Brien, speaking directly to the readers, writes about writing the story read only a page or two before. Not only that, but he speaks about previous (unsuccessful) iterations of the same story. This not only humbles him, but also allows the audience to fully appreciate the full scope of his fear, guilt, and sadness. O’Brien was so afraid of fully confronting these events that he chose to leave them out—and the story suffered because of it. Without the emotions, even the person at the very heart of the story felt disconnected. An understanding of what is going on in someone’s head at the time of the true events tremendously enhances the sympathy and empathy elicited by readers, and more fully conveys just why, exactly, the words are worth reading. With this one chapter, Tim O’Brien manages to expertly convey the importance of honesty in writing—especially in terms of story truth—in a way that his readers may not have been fully able to grasp without his open and genuine communication.

Tim O’Brien is a master storyteller—of that there is no doubt. Would The Things They Carried be just as compelling without the use of metafiction, though? No. O’Brien’s commentary, his miscommunication and manipulation, makes the novel what it is. It truly serves an incredible purpose, on several different levels. His technique is critical for readers’ depth of understanding of the characters and what they went through, the themes at the heart of the story, and the fact that humanity is unquestionably what makes literature so important. He absolutely misleads us for a large portion of his story, but it is worth it to recognize that truth is not always as simple as it seems. In fact, as O’Brien himself says, “That’s what fiction is for. It’s for getting at the truth when the truth isn’t sufficient for the truth.” Sometimes, the truth is not surface level, not just the events themselves. No one knows this more than Tim O’Brien, and he proves it to his readers with the work of metafiction that is The Things They Carried.