Study Guide to The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane

Intelligent Education

• Publisher: Influence Publishers
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781645424079
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Study Aids
• Subtopic: Study Guides

A comprehensive study guide offering in-depth explanation, essay, and test prep for Stephen Crane’s The Red Badge of Courage, the supreme example of Crane’s war stories. As a novel set during the American Civil War, The Red Badge of Courage is known for realism and naturalism. Moreover, the novel sets itself apart from other war novels as it focuses on the thoughts and experiences of the protagonist, instead of the outside world. This Bright Notes Study Guide explores the context and history of Crane’s classic work, helping students to thoroughly explore the reasons it has stood the literary test of time. Each Bright Notes Study Guide contains: - Introductions to the Author and the Work
- Character Summaries
- Plot Guides
- Section and Chapter Overviews
- Test Essay and Study Q&As The Bright Notes Study Guide series offers an in-depth tour of more than 275 classic works of literature, exploring characters, critical commentary, historical background, plots, and themes. This set of study guides encourages readers to dig deeper in their understanding by including essay questions and answers as well as topics for further research.

INTRODUCTION TO STEPHEN CRANE

 

THE LIFE OF STEPHEN CRANE

Stephen Crane was born in Newark, New Jersey, November 1, 1871, the youngest of fourteen children. His father, a Methodist pastor, died in 1880, and the family, after moving about several times, finally settled in Asbury Park, New Jersey, in 1882. In 1888 young Crane gained experience in reporting local events for his brother’s news bureau and then later in the year went to Claverack College. After two years at Claverack, Crane went in 1890 to Lafayette College and in the spring of 1891 to Syracuse University, staying only one semester at each school, where his propensity for baseball seems to have outweighed his prowess as a student. It was while he was at Syracuse, however, that he composed the first draft of Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, a lengthier version of which he published under a nom de plume (and at his own expense) in 1893. In the summer of 1891 Crane made the closer acquaintance of the noted American writer Hamlin Garland (they had met before), from whom he received great encouragement (especially for the completed story later to be called The Red Badge of Courage). Then for over two years, the aspiring author plodded along doing journalistic work, trying all the time to place his manuscript of The Red Badge. Finally, in 1894, it appeared serially in the Philadelphia Press; the next year - in October - it was published in book form (appearing about two months later in a London edition). It was the book’s generally enthusiastic reception by English readers which established Crane’s reputation. Also appearing in 1895 was a volume of his verse, The Black Riders, to be followed by George’s Mother and a new edition of Maggie: A Girl of the Streets in 1896.

From 1896 until his death in 1900 Crane kept a residence in England, though in 1896 he went as a correspondent for New York papers on a filibustering expedition to Cuba, on which, it is generally believed, he contracted the illness that was eventually to end his life. From his actual experience, however, he produced the fine story The Open Boat (published in 1898 in The Open Boat and Other Tales of Adventure). After Cuba, he traveled to Greece to report the Greco-Turkish war, and while there married Cora Taylor. In 1899 appeared another volume of poems, War Is Kind, as well as Active Service: A Novel and The Monster and Other Stories. In constant ill health all this while, Crane eventually traveled to the health spa at Badenweiler, Germany, where he met his death on June 5, 1900.

A number of his works were published after his death, and in 1925 - 7 appeared the monumental The Work of Stephen Crane, in twelve volumes edited by Wilson Follett. Since that time critical and scholarly interest in Crane has increased, until today he has achieved the status of a minor classic.

WORKS OTHER THAN THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE

Crane wrote a number of war stories, of which The Red Badge is the supreme example, but he also achieved notable successes with his naturalistic stories of life in New York City (Bowery Tales), his Western stories, and his tales based on his experiences as a war reporter.

BOWERY TALES

Crane’s outstanding accomplishment in this vein is Maggie: A Girl of the Streets. It concerns the life of a young girl brought up in a “Hell’s kitchen” in New York by alcoholic parents (the father dies early in the story; the mother becomes a notorious drunkard and jailbird). Poverty, ignorance, and a loveless family life in squalid surroundings absolutely condition Maggie to be the victim of the first man who offers a chance of release. He is Pete, a friend of her brother Jimmy, and she mistakes his blandishments (he is actually a gross, callous, and fatuous individual - the product of a similar upbringing) for love and loyalty. He “ruins” Maggie and deserts her for a more attractive woman. Her mother and brother (as well as the neighbors) in their ignorance assume an air of puritanical self-righteousness and spurn Maggie’s attempt to return home. Her only alternative (as Crane presents it) is to become a streetwalker.

After some time, Maggie dies, and her remorseful family hold a wake during which they vacillate between emotion-filled recollections of a better time and Bowery mission cliches. The tale ends with the mother ironically acceding to the pleas of a mourning hypocrite to “forgive” her daughter.

TALES OF ADVENTURE

Some critics regard The Open Boat as Crane’s finest achievement. Based on an actual incident, the story involves four shipwrecked men in a lifeboat: the cook, the oiler, the correspondent (Crane), and the captain (who is injured). Such action as there is - mainly a simple record of their gradual approach to land, continually opposed and thwarted by the raging waves and by darkness - is simply a background for a prolonged ironic reflection on nature’s indifference (it may even be hostility) to man. The ironic narrator also comments bitterly on the failure of romantic attitudinizing about war and danger by comfortably situated aesthetes to represent adequately the harsh reality of suffering or even the basic nobility of unaccommodated man. Even the outcome of the action is an ambiguous matter. Three of the men reach land safely, but the oiler has drowned and faces only the “sinister hospitality of the grave.”

STORIES OF THE AMERICAN WEST

The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky is easily the best of the Western stories. It opens with Jack Potter, the marshal of Yellow Sky, returning from San Antonio with his new bride. Not only does he display the traditional gaucheness of the newly married man, but he suffers a vague unrest at the thought of the reception they will receive in Yellow Sky; in some undefined way he has violated the frontier code. As the train pulls into town, the windows of the Weary Gentleman saloon are being boarded up, against the possible rampage of the town drunk and sometime badman Scratchy Wilson. The denizens of the saloon look to Jack Potter as their only salvation from Wilson. As Potter and his bride round a corner, they come face to face with Scratchy, who is nonplussed to discover that Potter is married and without a gun, and that a showdown is thus rendered impossible. Beneath the accidental fact of Potter’s lack of a gun is the subtle realization by the two men that a border has been crossed - a way of life passed into history. The scene is one of Crane’s most superb treatments of character involvement.

RED BADGE OF COURAGE

BRIEF SUMMARY

BEFORE THE BATTLE - CHAPTERS 1 - 3

As the book opens an army (identified only as the “soldiers in blue”) is encamped on the banks of a river (unspecified, though it is apparently the Rappahannock since Crane seems to have modeled the forthcoming battle mainly on the Battle of Chancellorsville). A certain “tall soldier” reports to his comrades that they are going to move in behind the enemy on the next day, and all begin (in their ignorance) to debate the issue and trade opinions. A certain “youthful private” (later identified as Henry Fleming) retires to his bunk to reminisce about the romantic daydreams which had been partially the cause of his enlisting, and to speculate about his probable conduct in battle. The reactions of his mother and friends had been disappointingly prosaic, and his own thoughts, now vacillating between panic and reasoned assurance, finally develop into a determination to “accumulate information of himself” and to guard vigilantly against the prospect of being disgraced by facets of his being that he knows nothing of. He is encouraged to learn that even the “tall soldier” (now called Jim Conklin) does not possess an over-abundance of self-confidence either.

The next morning proves the rumor of the march to have been a mistake and the youth has further opportunity to consider himself and his comrades. He moves between the beliefs that they are all heroes, and all craven cowards, and he becomes more anxious for the battle which will settle these matters, even cursing the generals for their delay. Finally, the march begins and several incidents (a trivial conversation between a general and colonel, a soldier stepping on a comrade’s hand, and a fat soldier trying to steal a horse) increase the youth’s confusion about the nature of war and heroism, and as they camp for the night he begins to think self-pityingly of home when he is interrupted by a “loud soldier” (Wilson) whose braggadocio undermines the youth’s confidence even further.

On the following night the regiment makes its bivouac further up river, and in the morning the men are routed out for a rapid march, during which they shed many unessential accouterments and then settle down in the forest for some days of waiting. One morning the youth awakens to find himself being carried along on a dead run, and finally realizes that he is being led to the slaughter. Passing groups of skirmishers and dead soldiers, the youth at first wishes to cry out a warning to his comrades that they are about to be sacrificed to the “red gods” of war - but then lapses into a resigned silence. They are forced to dig (and then to abandon) various entrenchments. The youth feels this to be intolerable, but Conklin accepts it all philosophically. Suddenly, the battle noise explodes before their eyes, and while the youth gazes in astonishment, Wilson’s aplomb goes to pieces as (with a gesture of self-pity) he hands Henry a packet of letters, convinced that he is to die.

BATTLE AND FLIGHT - CHAPTERS 4 - 8

The brigade halts in a grove, amidst the screams of shells and showers of foliage. The lieutenant of the youth’s company is wounded, and reacts by swearing “wondrously.” To the youth it is a tableau of chaos-mobs of men rushing wildly, officers cursing, punching, and bawling, and veterans cracking grim jokes. Though the reserves are pale and quaking, the youth resolves to get a closer look at the “monster” they are to face.

Abruptly, they see the enemy charging toward them and the youth momentarily feels inspired by a common cause; he detects a “subtle battle brotherhood” which he cannot reject. But the war atmosphere turns this into a grim rage, and ultimately into a “battle sleep,” through which all actions seem to him not heroic but merely idiotic. Many are wounded but the enemy is repulsed, and the reserves congratulate one another. As he regards the battle flag the old thrill returns. Nature seems to have been undisturbed by all this “devilment.”

Imagining his trial to have been passed, the youth is in an ecstasy of self-satisfaction. But suddenly, incredibly, the enemy appears once more. Men groan and complain, while the youth, quivering like a “jaded horse” from exhaustion, and noticing others around dropping their weapons and running, runs “like a rabbit.” There is no shame in his face. Mingling with others he moves to the rear, passing a battery of “precise gunners,” and a general who looks like a “businessman.” As the general gets a report that the reserves have held, he holds “a little carnival of joy on horseback.”

The youth in his guilt begins to rationalize his action. He sees himself as the enlightened man, saving himself for a worthier encounter and begins to pity himself for the misunderstanding of his motives which will certainly ensue. But as he regards nature around him, he is content that the law of self-preservation is on his side. Reaching a chapel-like grove, Henry encounters a decaying corpse, with which he “exchanges a long look,” and then flees in horror.

Passing on, he meets with more corpses and later with a crowd of blood - stained men streaming to the rear. One laughs hysterically; another carries on his face “an unholy mixture of merriment and agony; another (a “spectral soldier”) has the “gray seal of death” on his face. A “tattered man” falls in with him, and innocently interrogating the youth about his wound, sees Henry slink away in confusion.

THE RETURN TO CAMP - CHAPTERS 9 - 15

Something in the appearance of the spectral soldier makes the youth start. Recognizing him as Jim Conklin, the youth can only cry out “Jim, Jim” incoherently. They march on together, Henry promising to care for him, while Conklin clings “babelike” to his arm. Moving with “mysterious purpose,” he tears away from Henry’s grasp, staggers his way towards a nearby field with the youth and the tattered man skulking behind, and finally halts “at the rendezvous,” his chest heaving violently. He falls, then bounces a little way from the earth, and as the flap of his jacket opens, Henry notices that he has been wounded in the side.

The two men finally break away from the spot, and the tattered man now begins to bemoan his own wounds, though he retains enough strength to ask Henry where his wound is located. In vague anger and confusion the youth deserts his companion, realizing that chance is sure to bare his secret eventually.

Alone once more, the youth has time to consider the aches and hungers of his body. Though swaying and tottering, he stays in the vicinity of the battle, half hoping for a blue defeat which would vindicate him. Then he denounces himself for his selfishness and, finally convinced that the blue army is destined to win, tries to invent a tale with which to excuse himself.

Suddenly the blue warriors appear on the run, all their courage vanished, and Henry imagines briefly that he might rally them. But as he stands in the line of retreat and clutches a soldier’s arm, the man hits him with his rifle butt. Henry falls, writhing and groaning. When at last he is able to rise he sees a jumble of men upon the field in the “blue haze of evening” and he hurries on, his head swollen with pain. A man with a “cheery voice” suddenly materializes out of nowhere and steers Henry firmly ahead, keeping up a friendly chatter about the events of the day’s battle. As if with a magic wand he conducts the youth back to his regiment, clasps his hand firmly, and disappears.

Henry shamefacedly approaches the fire with his story of having been separated and is gratified to find that Wilson and Simpson receive him sympathetically - Wilson especially, who is now no longer the “loud soldier” but a chastened, humble man, from this point on called “the friend.” He binds Henry’s “wound,” and gives him coffee and his own blanket. Henry falls soundly asleep and awakes in the morning to the sound of distant firing. Acting abusive toward Wilson, he is amazed to note his friend’s new-found humility. The youth can not resist a feeling of superiority and condescension, especial...