Soldiers' Pay

One character I did not mention in my presentation (or, at least, that I do not plan on mentioning) is Julian Lowe. Lowe is an interesting character because he is introduced in the first sentence of the novel. Characters seem to be introduced in Soldiers’ Pay in a fairly linear fashion: Lowe leads us to Gilligan who leads us to Mahon who leads us to Powers, etc. In this sense, Lowe is merely one character in a long line of other characters, all affected by or contributing to the post-war atmosphere of the novel. However, Lowe is the one to start the chain and does continue to correspond with Mrs. Powers throughout the novel; therefore, he is very worthy of discussion.
My first impression of Lowe was that he would be the main focus of the novel and that he would make a good main character. Not only did he seem fairly level-headed compared to the other (drunk) soldiers on the train, he also possessed the conflict of having not achieved a higher rank while in the military: “They had stopped the war on him,” as Faulkner writes.
In light of the novel as a whole, it is clear that Lowe’s conflict at the beginning of the novel is mere pettiness and selfishness. It becomes obvious that though Lowe is a seasoned soldier in terms of battle experience, in truth he is nothing but a boy. Even his affection for Mrs. Powers is presented as something un-serious, as he is constantly running around with other girls while writing her love letters. And, after reading the whole novel, I revised my perception of his “level-headedness” at the beginning. I decided he was actually just naïve.
The reader comes to know Joe Gilligan as the more admirable character in the novel. In fact, according to Cleath Brooks, Gilligan represents a neutral territory between the conflicting elements of the post-war world: the previously uninhibited nature of Mahon versus the more calculating characters such as Jones. It is Gilligan who represents level ground. Like many other men, he is displaced by the war. He is a flawed character, certainly, but it is his role to bring the novel down to earth. He is not an outsider only in the abstract, post-war sense, but also in the literal sense of not being from Mahon’s hometown. Therefore, he is a character to whom the reader, also a stranger to this locale, can relate.
But, as I said, at the beginning of the novel Gilligan comes across as nothing more than a lowdown drunkard. Of course, now I realize that he is drunk because he understands a reality that the selfish, delusional, and young Julian Lowe cannot comprehend.
Gilligan to his fellow ex-soldiers: “Men, [the conductor] don’t want us here. And this is the reward we get for giving our flesh and blood to our country’s needs.”
Gilligan is aware of a soldier’s fate and role in the post-war society. Hence, the public display of inebriation. The scene in which he coaxes Lowe to drink from the same bottle of liquor as he does really seems to show the difference between the two. Lowe cannot stomach the strong, burning liquid. Gilligan says to him: “Why sure you can. Listen: think of flowers. Think of your poor gray-haired mother hanging on the front gate and sobbing her gray-haired heart out. Listen, think of having to go to work again when you get home.”
Clearly it is Gilligan who is the wiser. It may seem a stretch, or an exaggeration, but the liquor seemed like a metaphor for the post-war life. Lowe could not handle the reality of such a life. His “outraged stomach heaved at its muscular moorings like a captive balloon.” Instead of fully comprehending the tragedy, he is bemoaning the fact that he was not lucky enough to die a “hero,” or to end up like Donald Mahon, a living dead man, a complete devastation of life.