During the summers before 11th and 12th grades, I had to read numerous books and keep a reflective journal focused on my readings. Some of these journal entries are provided below.
Analysis [entry dated August 4, 1996]
The exposition of The Red Badge of Courage was so deliberate and mechanical that I personally fell asleep after three pages. The book steadily improved throughout, as Crane found his style, but for the first dozen or so pages the plot went nowhere slowly.
The book in some respects shows merit. The character change throughout the book of the young soldier shows a remarkable talent for Crane to judge the personality of people. The battle scenes are realistic, especially considering that Crane had never seen a war at the time that he wrote the book.
However, at the same time, the book is deficient in a few regards, also. Crane's annoying habit of referring to characters not by their names but rather by their descriptions is not only confusing, but also insulting to the reader in the respect that Crane infers that the reader is not capable of remembering that Henry is young. The lulls in the action that Crane leaves after some of the battles could be improved upon, much as Crane had already cut some sections.
This book, in my opinion, rates above The Grapes of Wrath because The Red Badge of Courage has more action than Grapes. However, Jurassic Park rates higher than Red Badge because of the same reason.
A Vivid Description [entry dated August 10, 1996]
On page 46, Stephen Crane delivers a splendid description of a dead soldier that Henry stumbles upon in the forest:
"Near the threshold he stopped, horror-stricken at the sight of a thing.
"He was being looked at by a dead man who was seated with his back against a columnlike tree. The corpse was dressed in a uniform that had once been blue, but was now faded to a melancholy shade of green. The eyes, staring at the youth, had changed to the dull hue to be seen on the side of a dead fish. The mouth was open. Its red had changed to an appalling yellow. Over the gray skin of the face ran little ants. One was trundling some sort of bundle along the upper lip."
Such a description can have various effects on a reader. For some, it would disgust them so to the point that they would have to put aside the book for a time in order to recompose themselves. Others would read and re-read the description and marvel at the wondrous literary effort that was shown by such a passage. Further readers would be nonplused and simply pass over it, by which losing some of the appeal throughout the book.
Crane has several passages like this in the book, which help to make the novel better all around. The value of this passage added to others similar to it increases the total value of the book by a factor of ten. As a result, the portraits that Crane paints in the book, on a scale of one to ten, rate about a nine.
With Honor [entry dated August 18, 1996]
The old, seasoned soldier stood lonely in the field. Why had he run from his comrades? "When I left my home and my family I was no more than a boy in the company of strangers," he thought aloud. "I have gone through struggles; abandoning my company at the site of my first battle, to come back to become a hero. I am a boxer and a fighter by my trade, and I carry the reminders of every glove that laid me down or cut me until I cried out, in my anger and my shame, 'I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains.' For me, a practiced soldier, to desert my mates is simply despicable behavior. Honor is what the army is all about. That is what the North is fighting for. To show, before the rest of the world, that, no matter what issues divide us, our honor unites us. Honor is an issue deeply ingrained in me. Without honor, I am nothing.
"I have fought my last battle. Against whom, I might wonder. I did not fight the British for independence, nor did I fight the South for unification. I fought myself for my honor, and I lost."
Those were the old, seasoned soldier's last words, as he, standing in full dress uniform, turned the muzzle of his rifle toward him and pulled his trigger. With honor.