One of the more interesting parts of the Caruth book for me, was the chapter where she discusses Hiroshima mon amour. I identified with the French woman’s struggle to negotiate a future for herself, while simultaneously trying to remain faithful to her past. The idea of death as intimate, and the telling of another’s death as a betrayal, was interesting. “Telling the story of her love affair with the German, telling, specifically, the story of his death, is for the woman a betrayal of the loved one who died, with the one who is alive and listens. What the woman mourns is not only the erotic betrayal, that is, but a betrayal precisely in the act of telling, in the very transmission of an understanding that erases the specificity of a death” (Caruth,  p.26). The act of telling one’s story constituting a betrayal seems to stand in contrast to some of the ideas posed in both the Henry 2006 and Denham 2008 articles. In the case of the French woman, perhaps telling her story was not helpful in helping her map the trauma in time and space, situating her within a larger narrative context. I wonder if more accurately, she was not far enough in her own healing process- in coming to terms with her German lover’s death- to have the act of telling be a helpful tool for her to move forward.

Forgetting as a form of betrayal is also a theme in this chapter. “Oh! It’s horrible. I’m beginning to remember you less clearly. I’m beginning to forget you. I tremble at the thought of having forgotten so much love…” (Caruth, p.32). It is as if she cannot forget the trauma of his death, without forgetting the beauty of their love. “To be reasonable here is no longer to cling madly to the memory of her lover’s death; it is to exit into the freedom of forgetting… Freedom from madness is thus equated with the forgetting that began her sane seeing and knowing, a freedom that is fundamentally a betrayal of the past” (Caruth, p.32-33). I don’t know that I agree that forgetting is necessarily a fundamental betrayal of the past. I think sometimes we must allow ourselves to forget the specificity of trauma in order to move forward. I think there is also fear associated with this concept, in that by forgetting, we may also be more susceptible to repeating past mistakes- to recreating that trauma again in our lives.

I agree with Caruth’s analysis, that there is freedom in forgetting. I think that reliving specific events of trauma can be detrimental to forward movement and healing. Maybe I keep the journals because knowing that I can reference the details of the experience if I need to, has allowed my heart and mind to let go of specificity of the trauma. And in not having to carry that around, I’ve been able to actually move forward. With regard to healing and resiliency following traumatic experience, I think allowing oneself to forget is a useful tool. Letting go of the old memories can create a space to make new memories. Perhaps to forget is not to betray the past, but to honor the present.

“In the ethnography of conflict and what can be hellish violence, it is not a tremendous leap to equate Dante’s journeys of discovery with fieldwork” (Henry, p.391). I love this parallel that Henry (2006) draws with Alighieri’s classic work. The exchange that Henry highlights between Daniel and Dante, in which Daniel asks him to “be mindful of my pain,” speaks to the growth that can emerge out of trauma. Henry writes, “What starts out as a terrifying and apocalyptic vision of bodily anguish turns out to be one of the more hopeful of all Dante’s visions in Hell or Purgatory, one in which one’s trials and suffering have a transformative power for the regeneration or reestablishment of order…It is a revelation of distress, but one in which anguish and treatment are tied together, where the poet reveals to Dante his suffering, but the experience and the expression of the suffering begins the process toward rebirth and healing” (Henry, p.391-392).

I think this passage speaks to two issues related to resilience within trauma; first it suggests that the actual experience of surviving trauma can be a source of power and growth. Second, it highlights an earlier point that Henry makes with regard to the healing nature of telling one’s story; “…the act of telling served a kind of function…realizing a history that, although not necessarily explaining an event, mapped it in time and space…”(Henry, p.382).

I feel like this concept also relates to the Si John case study in Denham’s article (2008) which explores how the Si John family, “…frame their traumatic past into an ethic that functions in the transmission of resilience strategies, family identity, and as a framework for narrative emplotment” (Denham, p.391). Denham seems to suggest that when it comes to resiliency, it is not only the telling of one’s story that is important, but the way the narrative is framed. I found the Denham article to be very intriguing, in that the way in which we narrate our trauma (our historical trauma response) – to ourselves and others- can make a difference in the way trauma symptomology manifests in our lives, both individually and collectively.

It was so inspiring to see how the Si John family, despite all of their historical experiences with marginalization and abuse, had created an historical family narrative of survival and resilience, as opposed to victimization. I love that these narratives were embedded with strategies for resilience and “non-pathological adaptive response and ability to maintain or ‘spring back’ to a stable equilibrium after experiencing adversity” (Denham, p.392). Denham writes, “Specifically, trauma narratives transmit strength, optimism and coping strategies that family members internalize and use to ‘emplot’ their own narratives, or organize ‘life events and experiences into a coherent and ever-evolving story’” (p.392-393).

I feel like this “ethic of sharing” is largely absent in contemporary Western culture. It seems rare that healthy coping strategies are shared generationally within families; in the absence of this, an entire field of ‘professionals’ has emerged to meet the demand for concrete tools needed to overcome adversity. Self-help books, counselors, psychiatrists, psychologists, Dr. Phil- seem to be the Western parallel to the cultural narratives of Native peoples.

I also love that the Si John family recognizes that one’s story is ever-evolving. This seems to suggest that trauma is not simply a fixed moment in time, but a process. In recognizing our capacity to evolve and change, I feel like the Si Johns create a space for growth and healing where trauma doesn’t comprise our whole identity or our whole story.