Catharsis:
The word comes from Greek katharsis, from kathairein, to purge, from katharos, pure.
Among other definitions, "catharsis" means: "a purifying or figurative cleansing of the emotions, especially pity and fear..."; "a release of emotional tension, as after an overwhelming experience, that restores or refreshes the spirit;" and "a technique used to relieve tension and anxiety by bringing repressed feelings and fears to consciousness; also, "The therapeutic result of this process."
Catharsis is the unspoken theme, hope and dream for veterans on this blog, but periodically we make it more explicit, as we did here, in a blog entry about art therapy's surprisingly potential for purging combat trauma and PTSD in veterans.
At virtually the same moment I was posting this, friend and apparent psychic twin on all things veteran, Chris Lombardi, was posting this remarkable quote on her blog. Lombardi is writing a book for the University of California Press on soldiers and dissent (watch for it), and here she is quoting Walter Kirn in the New York Times, reviewing The March, which Kirn called "E.L. Doctorow's heart-squeezing fictional account of Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman's fiery, rapacious last campaign through the cities and countryside of the Confederate South".
The quote that Lombardi pulls from Kirn offers a stunning perspective on how great catharsis can really be, when veterans (and others) decide that "the only way out [of their suffering] is through":
The rampant destructiveness of Sherman’s march is, of course, the stuff of high school textbooks, but what isn’t so obvious is the way that destruction transfigures and transforms, pulverizing established human communities and forcing the victims to recombine in new ones. Inside the churning belly of Doctorow’s beast, individuals shed their old identities, ally themselves with former foes, develop unexpected romantic bonds and even seem to alter racially. Yes, war is hell, and “The March” affirms this truth, but it also says something that most war novels leave out: hell is not the end of the world. Indeed, it’s by learning to live in hell, and through it, that people renew the world. They have no choice.
From the blog post, "What We Write About When We Write About War,' by Chris Lombardi, at her blog, Incredible Panic Rules, linked here.
