Power Q & A with Brent van Staalduinen

Q: Brent, you are the author of The Peace Thieves—a novel that explores (among many things) Canada’s troubled peacekeeping legacy. How can a novel be anti-war and pro-military?

A: I think it’s really important to acknowledge first that many things can be true all at once, even contradictory things. Of late, with the flame-fest that the internet has become, I’ve particularly been cognizant that polarization is destructive, and that we need to find our truths near the centre. If we send ourselves too far either left or right, it becomes very, very hard to see the middle, much less each other.

On one hand, answering the question can be as simple as saying that things that go boom were cool when I was a kid but now that I’ve served in uniform and truly understand what the physics of weapons can do to our fragile bodies, I think they’re an abomination and a failure of humanity. 

Or, maybe that I’ve been fascinated with military things my whole life, but that my relationship to my faith and that Jesus guy also tells me that using military force is a failure of love. 

Or, that using deadly force should be the last resort, but if we need to go there, we should do so with the most lethal gear possible to get back to not needing deadly force or lethal gear as quickly as possible. 

Or, that sometimes the only way to protect the vulnerable and innocent is by using violence against those who would harm the innocent and vulnerable—the only way—and wishing otherwise is just a wish.

Or, that I can write this Power Q&A simply because freedom is a product of many people with guns using those guns so people won’t have to use guns if they don’t choose to use those guns. 

Or, Canada is free because of war, and remains free because of our and our western neighbours’ shared militaries who’re (mostly) working to prevent the kinds of war that would threaten our freedom, and that this might be more of a question than…?

Or, that peace can’t be achieved by violence, but it sometimes breaks out afterwards, and is just as misunderstood and cliché as we are.

Or, now that I’ve served in the military, learned how to wage violence and fix the victims of violence, and had to weigh precisely when I would need to do either/both of those things, I know that either/both of those things can become necessary and possible, because history.

Or, not thinking that anyone deserves to die and/or armies need to be defeated, but knowing that sometimes the world is better off after they do/are.

Or, discovering that, after learning to ply my lethal trade and learning that I was extremely good at making bullets go where I wanted, the gold marksman’s badge I earned is a shiny, terrifying reminder that I don’t ever want to be gold-level ready to kill someone. 

Or, knowing that as a medic I would have killed to protect my patients without hesitation, and also know that carrying that correct decision would still forever change me.

Or, that those who make the choice to put themselves in harm’s way to protect others and are willing to use violence to do so, sacrificing their own sanity and maybe salvation is a horrifying, holy thing.

Or, that those who ended up in the wrong place on the wrong mission because they thought they were doing the right thing deserve a nod, even if it hurts to do so, because humanity.Or, something about not knowing whether or not one could kill for someone but seeing the sense in living for them first, or other, better words instead.

Or, that blood carries oxygen for every last one of us, and making someone else lose that magic inside goo is always a tragedy, and national and international decisions cannot remove the humanity of the one who spills it and the one who has had it spilled.

Or, that there are souls in the world who stand up for others even knowing that they might be broken in body and mind and that their pieces might never be put together, that they might fall and not ever get back up, that they do it for a job or love of country or they find themselves standing in uniform after accompanying a best friend to a recruiting centre, and that it’s never simple or easy and that’s where the truest things lie.

Or, seeing those who should never carry guns or reproduce do and will, and they’ll be our neighbours and friends, unless they’re in prison and we’re not.

Or, when you know you know, and when you don’t, that’s okay because there are those who do and don’t.

Or, an understanding that war is always bigger and messier than anyone should know, and yet that more people know that than we probably realize, like a newcomer neighbour who hates fireworks and air shows and the other new one who cheers at the bang and roar.

Or, grace. Jesus, we need more grace, don’t we.

Or, if any one fallen, flawed mind/body/entity should get to decide.

About Brent van Staalduinen:

Brent is the bestselling and award winning author of the novels The Peace Thieves, Unthinkable, Nothing But Life, and Boy, and has published stories on both sides of the Atlantic. A recovering tree planter, high school English teacher, reserve army medic, and greasy Pizza Hut cook, he now teaches writing to university students and does a lot of wandering, looking for stories. He lives in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada with his wife and two daughters. www.brentvans.com