Veterans Day has lost its sting.
The seismic shock of World War I reverberated through American art and culture in ways forgotten now. Yet every generation needs to stare into the chasm between the cataclysm’s ambition—”the War to end all wars”—and its harrowing reality. Forgetful people embrace the illusion that this time, this battlefield, this clash of arms—especially one waged by proxy with someone else’s blood—will be the one to make the lion drop at the foot of the lamb.
Veterans Day brings to mind John Singer Sargent’s Gassed (1918-19), an anguished glimpse of the human cost of that enduring deception. Continue Reading


