I think knowing that Robert Jordan was a Vietnam veteran and had the nickname Iceman really puts a lot of the Wheel of time in new context. He was reportedly cool under pressure and didn't show much emotion so I wonder if he was like Rand just trying to make himself hard to the horrors that he witnessed there. How much of the internal turmoil is from personal experience.
I had two nicknames in 'Nam. First up was Ganesha, after the Hindu god called the Remover of Obstacles. He's the one with the elephant head. That one stuck with me, but I gained another that I didn't like so much. The Iceman.
One day, we had what the Aussies called a bit of a brass-up. Just our ship alone, but we caught an NVA battalion crossing a river, and wonder of wonders, we got permission to fire before they finished. The gunner had a round explode in the chamber, jamming his 60, and the fool had left his barrel bag, with spares, back in the revetment.
So while he was frantically rummaging under my seat for my barrel bag, it was over to me, young and crazy, standing on the skid, singing something by the Stones at the of my lungs with the mike keyed so the others could listen in, and Lord, Lord, I rode that 60. 3000 rounds, an empty ammo box, and a smoking barrel that I had burned out because I didn't want to take the time to change. We got ordered out right after I went dry, so the artillery could open up, and of course, the arty took credit for every body recovered, but we could count how many bodies were floating in the river when we pulled out.
The next day in the orderly room an officer with a literary bent announced my entrance with "Behold, the Iceman cometh." For those of you unfamiliar with Eugene O'Neil, the Iceman was Death. I hated that name, but I couldn't shake it. And, to tell you the truth, by that time maybe it fit.
I have, or used to have, a photo of a young man sitting on a log eating C-rations with a pair of chopsticks. There are three dead NVA laid out in a line just beside him. He didn't kill them. He didn't choose to sit there because of the bodies. It was just the most convenient place to sit. The bodies don't bother him. He doesn't care. They're just part of the landscape.
The young man is glancing at the camera, and you know in one look that you aren't going to take this guy home to meet your parents. Back in the world, you wouldn't want him in your neighborhood, because he is cold, cold, cold. I strangled that SOB, drove a stake through his heart, and buried him face down under a crossroad outside Saigon before coming home, because I knew that guy wasn't made to survive in a civilian environment.
I think he's gone. All of him. I hope so. I much prefer being remembered as Ganesha, the Remover of Obstacles.
Robert Jordan via Theoryland, 2001
#the things that most explain WoT are that its author 1) killed a lot of people in a very traumatic colonial war#and 2) went to a rigidly hierarchical single-sex military academy FULL of men sleeping with each other#and then was like. what if I write a book where women are in charge because men are cursed to destroy things and go mad#like...yeah#the author is dead but sometimes the author's trauma is not so much (via @sixth-light)
