There were times when Anthony Feinstein would scare the hell out of me. I was worried he had some sort of X-ray vision. We would sit together on panels discussing war journalism, and my fear was that he would see right through me and judge the cumulative effect of my experiences covering combat.
Such was the power of his unobtrusive gaze and, more importantly, his reputation as a neuropsychiatrist. For those of whose business it was to chronicle war, you would have had to have been living under a rock for the past dozen years not to have met him, read his work, or at least been aware of it. That kind of gravitas gets you pretty impressive access to a tight-knit, often-cloistered community of extraordinarily gifted people who’ve been riven by the burdens of repeatedly staring into the savage abyss of modern wars and conflicts. Through him, we are granted admission into this intimate fellowship to meet...
To read this article, you must buy the issue or have LRC Web Full-Text Access.
If you already have Web Full-Text Access to Literary Review of Canada content, please log in with one of the two options below.
If not, sign up today!
- Not already an LRC subscriber? Subscribe today, and be sure to select either the “DIGITAL” or “PRINT and DIGITAL” option. You’ll then be entitled to read this — and other magazine content from past and current issues — in full! (Note: Web Full-Text Access will take effect the following business day.)
- Already a subscriber to the LRC‘s Print edition, but haven’t yet signed up for Web Full-Text Access? Contact us and we’ll reply right away with instructions on how to upgrade your existing subscription.
Log In Option 1
Log In Option 2
* Subscribers who have chosen to receive both the LRC‘s print and digital editions can find their subscriber number in the address area of any recent printed copy cover, above their name; it is six digits long, immediately following “LRC.”