Red Badge of Courage

He had taken up a first position behind the little tree, with a direct determination to hold it against the world. He had not deemed it possible that his army could that day succeed, and from this he felt the ability to fight harder. But the throng had surged in all ways, until he lost directions and locations, save that he knew where lay the enemy.
The flames bit him, and the hot smoke broiled his skin. His rifle barrel grew so hot that ordinarily he could not have borne it upon his palms; but he kept on stuffing cartridges into it, and pounding them with his clanking, bending ramrod. If he aimed at some changing form through the smoke, he pulled his trigger with a fierce grunt, as if he were dealing a blow of the fist with all his strength. (This passage is taken from chapter 17 of The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane.)


I thought this section of the passage was both inspiring and disturbing. Crane does such a good job with his battle and death scenes that it sometimes makes me sick. At another time, Stephan describes one of the youth's friends in a detailed three page death scene. His battle episodes are descriptive and realistic and I find them gruesome and jumbled messes. This specific scene caught my interest because the main character had finally decided that he is going to stand and fight regardless of the consequences. He stakes out his territory and will not allow any enemy to get near. He fights with all that is in him -- allowing his feelings to govern his actions. He is so consumed with firing at the enemy that he does not even realize that they have retreated until it is brought to his attention by his commanding officer. The officer then complements the youth saying that he wish he had more men like him and if he did he could whip the rebels in minutes. This is part of a turning point inside the youth as he realizes that he can do something courageous.

C. S. Lewis

Every visible creature in the grove had risen to its feet and was standing, more hushed than ever, with its head bowed; and Ransom saw (if it could be called seeing) that Oyarsa was coming up between the long line of sculptured stones. Partly he knew it from the faces of the Malacandrians as their lord passed them; partly he saw -- he could not deny that he saw -- Oyarsa himself. He never could say what is was like. The merest whisper of light -- no, less than that, the smallest diminution of shadow -- was traveling along the uneven surface of the ground-weed; or rather some difference in the look of the ground, too slight to be named in the language of the five senses, moved slowly towards him. (This passage was taken from C. S. Lewis's Out of the Silent Planet.)


All the people at the presentation were now standing like statues and staring, completely dumbstruck, with huge bulb-like eyes; but Shaun disappeared into the crowd so that the police had to fight their way through the thick mob-like group of onlookers. Shaun knew from the reflexes of the police and bystanders he would escape them again. He thought it unusual that it had been so easy. He could not say how or why. There had been no challenge to it -- he had walked up, pulled out the pistol, and fired into the charismatic-like form -- and no one had seen or was trying to stop him; or was there something irregular about the formation of the police -- it had been too soon to know -- and he now saw he was surrounded by security and caught.