Owl Creek Bridge Diction

War is a brutal, bloody battlefield from which no one returns unscathed. Nonetheless, there are those who believe war to be a glorious honor, a bedtime story filled with gallant heroes, a scuffle fought an ocean and several countries away. In “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” by Ambrose Bierce and “August 2026: There Will Come Soft Rains” by Ray Bradbury, the authors seek to convey the devastation that comes from romanticizing war by using impersonal and ironic diction. Bierce begins his story in Northern Alabama at Owl Creek Bridge, looking in on a man bound in ropes and a noose surrounded by soldiers sporting weapons and Federal Army uniforms. The dead man standing is a civilian, described as a planter and a gentleman, the kind one would

A man’s execution is moments away from happening yet these men guarding the gravesite seem to care not for anything outside of their line of sight, regardless of its consequence. Bierce’s choice of impersonal diction in this passage draws the attention to the soldiers’ lack of concern for this man’s fate, demonstrating a perfect example of good soldiering. These men who “merely blockaded” entrance to the execution are not openly paying any mind to the hanging about to begin, which is referred to as something “occurring at the centre of the bridge,” because it was not their “duty” to think of what happened outside of their assigned task. Despite being within walking distance of this condemned man, no one is overtly uneasy about the presence of Death waiting to claim its prize. To these soldiers, to this war, the gentleman’s death will be but an occurrence, no more exciting than an

On the morning of August 4, 2026, a lone house stands among the ruins of Allendale, California, serving the ghosts of its residents and, “Until this day, how well the house had kept its peace” (88). In the wake of atomic devastation, the technologically enhanced house is all that remains of human life in the city and it continues function as it was programmed to do, when war did not knock at its doorstep. Inside the house, life goes on for the artificial voices, the automated appliances, the motorized robots, but past the house’s windows lies nuclear death, starving creatures, a war that has found its way home. Bradbury’s ironic use of “peace” is not lost among the ashes and soot of Allendale’s battlefield. Despite the annihilation surrounding the house, it does not shut itself down nor does it express concern over lack of human activity inside of it. The house ignores the war it has found itself in and strives to maintain appearances, keeping its interior cycling through an average day before the bomb came and following the course of action where that which is out of sight is out of mind. In this sense, Bradbury’s words also apply to the world at large where war is only a threat if its weapons and blood dirty the front door. As long as soldiers are overseas and the