Arts It's Not You, its Me Amanda Aikman Arts and Entertainment Editor & Entertainment Death Makes a Good Story Ignatieff’s latest fiction examines the ethics of war writing Christina Palassio The Link, Concordia University Dear Culture Section, I want you to know that I will always cherish the time we spent together, but I have to be honest with you—I’m ready to move on. It's not that I don’t still find you interesting and exciting, it’s just that sometimes editors and sections grow apart. I mean, look at you—youre calling yourself the “Arts and Entertainment” section now, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. Don't get defensive though, I’m not blaming you, I’ve changed too. I used to think you were the only thing I wanted in a student newspaper career, but I see now that there is so much more to the experience. You helped me to see this. I remember our first article togeth- er, | was so nervous. But not you Culture Section, you believed in me even when I couldn't believe in myself. Oh, we had some good times together didn’t we? The movies, the concerts, the plays—I know that eventually you will move on to anoth- er editor, but I hope you will remem- ber our relationship fondly. I know that I will. Now, you may have heard some rumours around the office about me being unfaithful, and for that I am truly sorry. I wanted to be the one to tell you this Culture Section. The truth is I have been spending some time with the Managing Editor posi- tion. It’s only been training though, I swear—we aren't going all the way until the next issue. I hope, in time, that you understand. As Managing Editor I will still be a part can of your life, just a smaller part. My hope is that the distance will give us both the space and time that we need to heal. In closing, dear Culture Section, I want you to know that I will miss your sense of adventure, your devil- may-care attitude, your irreverent wit—and most of all, your free tickets. Yours Truly, Amanda Aikman, Ex-Culture Editor 14 | OtherPress MONTREAL = (CUP)—Michael Ignatieff sets his third novel, Charlie Johnson in the Flames, against the backdrop of a war-torn Balkan land- scape and engages a bleak world where victims of war, their preda- tors, and the journalists document- ing the ravages interact. Decades of war reporting lead cor- respondent Charlie Johnson to a guerilla command post buried déep in a Balkan forest. He and his cam- eraman Jacek get some tape of a “good story” that would prove guerillas are still operating out of vil- lages situated within four miles of the border. His younger competi- tors, “the twenty-somethings ... still dozing in the American bar” are none the wiser. The story Charlie follows out of the forest is not the same one he chases in. Hiding from the soldiers pursuing them, Charlie, Jacek, and their guide watch helplessly as the woman who had sheltered them in her house only moments earlier is set afire by an army commander. The nameless woman, burned and barely alive, leads the three men out of the woods. Charlie’s hands are badly scorched from putting out the fire on her back. The woman is taken to the hospital, but a few days later Charlie finds out she is dead. Though his hands heal, his psycho- logical pain does not. His inability to let go of the event, of the smell of searing flesh, sets him on a mission to avenge her death. Ignatieff’s novel probes the limits of the ethical responsibility facing journalists and raises questions about how much journalists are affected by their subjects, how far they can go to right a wrong and what happens once they cross the boundaries of impartiality. Though the novel’s protagonist is well crafted and defined, it is diffi- cult at times to sympathize with a character cast among victims of war who only absorbs the true horror of what is happening around him because of his own pain. Yet howev- er superficial and cliché Charlie's character sometimes seems, his expe- riences and his reactions are not totally devoid of insight and honesty. The novel’s main strength lies in the fast-paced guiding Charlie’s quest. Ignatieff’s sentences are short and simple, drawing read- ers quickly and irreversibly into a foreign world. Ignatieff, 56, is familiar with the emotional and physical landscapes of zones; the ‘Toronto-born Harvard professor has been to the places he describes in the novel and narrative war June 2004 has written several books about the Balkan war. In this novel, he uses journalism as a way into that world, painting the profession of war reporting as bereft of any emotion or connection, where newsmakers must keep moving to survive. “We suffer too much from experi- ence,” Jacek says to Charlie in an attempt to explain why the realities of the events they cover often don’t sink in. “We have more than we know what to do with.” Ignatieff has crafted an intelligent novel whose emotional resonance brings home the realities of war in a Way not many news reports can.