In the first section “The Beach”, we meet a young couple, a young woman and a disabled veteran, similar to Nellie and Roy from Not So Quiet, as they sit on the beach. Borden gives us both their inner monologues, showing us the strain on their relationship, especially with the young man’s “temptation to make her suffer.” Why do you think he indulges in it? Is it right? Why do you think the narrator says “He loved her. He hated her”? And why does the girl stay?
In the section “Moonlight”, we meet three personifications of abstract concepts: Pain, Life, and Death—a monster, a sick creature, and an angel. Why does Borden choose to personify them this way? Later on, Pain and her actions get an extended description. Why focus on Pain specifically, and as a harlot?
Throughout The Forbidden Zone, the narrator will insist “They are not/no longer men”. She will even say in “Moonlight” that one cannot be a woman in the hospital. Why is this dehumanization of all humanity emphasized, and why is gender involved as well?
I would like to focus on your third question about the dehumanization in “Moonlight.” It reminded me of Not So Quiet when Nellie remarks that she is too exhausted to care what she looks like in front of the men, and how the soldiers are too far gone in their pain and misery to think of her in a romantic or sexual way anyway. I think both authors are referencing how it would normally be very taboo for these young women to be handling young men in such an intimate fashion and in such large numbers. But in the context of war, one hardly cares for propriety.
Both authors express the idea that, without masculinity, there is no need for femininity. Borden takes it one step further than Smith by asserting that, without masculinity, it’s not only useless to be feminine, but “impossible.” In Moonlight, the narrator thinks, “There are […] no men; so how could I be a woman here and not die of it?”
That last quote, in particular, I think reveals Borden’s thoughts on the complementary nature of masculinity and femininity. The narrator is distressed at the idea of being a woman in the face of creatures who are so torn apart by pain and suffering that they no longer resemble her natural counterpart: men.
In more of a gender-neutral interpretation, I think the narrator is also just attempting to deaden her emotions so that she’s not overcome with sorrow for the people suffering right in front of her.
I found “The Beach” to be really interesting as we see both the man and the woman struggling to accept that things have changed between them. “She looked round her as if to find the man he once had been.” This line, along with a few others seem to suggest that these changes are not welcome as the man seems to see the woman in a child-like way, perhaps representing her innocence in her lack of experience in the war compared to his own. Their separate experiences has created a gap between them that he attempts to resolve by “bringing her to his level /knowledge” by forcing her to hear about the casino. He acknowledges that this brings her suffering but he doesn’t seem to know how else to connect to her or make her understand how much he is suffering.
I think the idea he has that she needs to understand is what creates the “hatred” mentioned in “He hated her.” He believes that the only options are her understanding his suffering or her leaving her in search of a happier experience. However, she also loves him and is willing to make sacrifices. Even though they have changed since before the war, she knows that he needs that support. Whether she is willing to love who he has become or hopes to revert him back to who he once was with time and support are both possibilities.
I would like to focus on the question of how the man in “The Beach” both “loved” and “hated” the woman. I don’t necessarily believe that he hates her, but rather that he feels a deep resentment toward her “physical wholeness”—her body untouched by the war that has disfigured him. To him, her unmarred beauty becomes a painful reminder of everything he has lost, both physically and emotionally. This dynamic offers an interesting reading of disability: his self-perception is defined through contrast with able-bodiedness, which becomes the measure of his “loss.” At the same time, his resentment reveals a form of self-alienation, as his anger toward the war turns inward and manifests as bitterness toward her. Perhaps his “temptation” to make her suffer is less an act of cruelty than an expression of his own internalized anguish—his desire to externalize the pain that has consumed him. Regardless, I really enjoyed your questions, and I appreciated the guide!
Book: The Forbidden Zone Author: Mary Borden
Question 1. In the first section “The Beach”, we meet a young couple, a young woman and a disabled veteran, similar to Nellie and Roy from Not So Quiet… as they sit on the beach. Borden gives us both their inner monologues, showing us the strain on their relationship, especially with the young man’s “temptation to make her suffer”. Why do you think he indulges in it? Is it right? Why do you think the narrator says “He loved her. He loved her?” And why does the girl stay?
Answer. In Chapter 6, “The Beach” the protagonist, a young woman, is enjoying a beautiful beach, and reflects on its perfection; the creamy sand, heavenly blue sea, and the warmth of the sun. She finds joy in the moment but grapples with the presence of a man in a wheelchair beside her, who has recently lost his foot. Despite his physical suffering and the emotional turmoil surrounding them, the young woman remains affectionate, calling him “darling” and attempting to connect with him. The man contemplates his condition and the impact of the war on his life. He bitterly observes the abandoned villas nearby, which were once places of joy but now stand as reminders of loss and decay, much like his body. He harbors dark thoughts about the hospital in which he was treated as an amputee, an old casino filled with wounded individuals. His dark thoughts contrast with the vibrant beach filled with people seemingly unbothered by the war and by the happiness displayed by the woman. As the story in “The Beach” unfolds, tension arises between the couple. The man feels jealousy towards the woman’s injury-free vitality and worries about infecting her life with his suffering. He vacillates between wanting to protect her and the temptation to push her away. Meanwhile, the woman expresses her unwavering love for him, battling with the fear of losing the man he once was. Surrounded by the peaceful beauty of the beach, they are small figures, lost in their own interior monologues that express their mental, physical and spiritual struggles while life continues on around them. The beach remains a backdrop of calm, contrasting sharply with their individual roiling internal conflict. In the distance, the sounds of artillery fire hint at the ongoing war. The scene emphasizes themes of love, loss, and the chilling realities of their circumstances.
As you read into chapter 6, “The Beach”, you are given an insight to the internal monology of the wounded man; he wants to “make her suffer” because of his intense jealousy of her “perfection”. His desire to inflict pain is a cruel and desperate lashing out at her for being uninjured and “whole”, while he is an amputee and in a physical and mental state where he has lost his “perfection” permanently due to the war. His resentment stems from his own view of himself. Specifically:
• His own physical decay. The wounded man is “rotting” from his wounds, and his body is a brutal contrast to the woman’s seemingly healthy perfection. His internal rage is directed at the vibrant life that she represents, which highlights his own permanent damage.
• The helplessness of his situation. The man is “tied to her perfection,” dependent on her care, which makes him feel even more trapped and powerless. His bitterness makes it impossible for him to accept her loving attention without wanting to corrupt it.
• The displacement of his trauma. Unable to inflict revenge on the war that destroyed him physically, he turns his sadistic impulse onto the one person who loves him. Her innocent health becomes the focus of his rage and despair, and he longs to make her share in his agony.
Is this right for the man to indulge in making the young woman suffer because he is suffering? No – and he knows it and that makes his condition all the worse for him.
The narrator’s line “He loved her. He loved her?” reflects a deep, disbelieving scrutiny of human emotion in the context of extreme wartime trauma. The repetition and questioning of the wounded man underscore the immense psychological distance between pre-war certainties and the devastating, dehumanizing reality of life on the front. Specifically:
• The incongruity of love. The tension in chapter 6, “The Beach”, is a commentary on the absurdity and fragility of love, that delicate, conventional emotion, in the middle of the mechanized brutality of the First World War. “Love” seems to be a shocking relic from a different world. The contrast between the simple, universal statement of “He loved her” and the horrors witnessed creates a sense of profound irony and a questioning of everything.
• Psychological detachment. The rephrasing of the line as a question, “He loved her?”, suggests the narrator has become so numb and detached from normal life that she can no longer comprehend basic human connections. War has reduced men to broken bodies and functions, and the memories of their personal, emotional lives—like a loving relationship—are difficult to process as real.
• The dehumanizing effects of war. The trauma of war erodes the ability to feel and empathize. The narrator may be questioning not just the man’s love, but the capacity to believe in it. The line marks a moment where the perception of humanity is fundamentally altered, and the simple truth of love feels foreign and distant.
Finally, in this chapter 6, “The Beach” the continued use of Borden’s use of fragmented, staccato prose is intentionally unsettling, aiming to translate the unspoken (indeed, inability) psychological experience of the war. This chapter forces the reader to confront the profound chasm war creates between human intimacy and mechanized slaughter.
The young woman stays with the wheelchair-bound amputee on the beach primarily due to a sense of shared isolation and profound, unspeakable connection forged by the trauma of war. Her decision is not born of a normal romantic attachment, but a resigned acceptance of a shared fate that separates them from the rest of the everyday world. The reasons for the young woman’s staying reflect some of the book’s larger themes. Specifically:
• Shared trauma and isolation. This chapter emphasizes the deep sense of loneliness the war has created, even for people who are together. The wounded man is physically broken, but the woman is also isolated by her proximity to his suffering. They are side-by-side but exist in their own separate, contemplative worlds, disconnected from the rest of society.
• Loss of innocence. The author, Mary Borden, highlights the stark gap between the innocent Homefront and the brutal reality at the front lines. The woman’s choice to stay with the wounded man symbolizes her permanent removal from the innocence of the pre-war world, much like the war has removed the foot of the injured man.
• Rejection of pre-war life. A wounded man’s inner monologue highlights the difference between life in wartime and the frivolity of peacetime. He describes the field hospital as a “gala night” filled with “gamblers, of course, down and outs, wrecks—all gone to pieces, parts of ’em missing”. The woman’s commitment to the wounded man shows a rejection of the superficiality of the “real thing,” the “smart crowd” who are untouched by the horror of war.
• Confronting a changed reality. In chapter 6, the beach represents the space between the civilized world and the “forbidden zone” of war. By staying on this beach, the woman confronts the new, permanent reality created by the war rather than retreating to a romanticized idea of the past.
Question 2. In the section “Moonlight”, we meet three personifications of abstract concepts: Pain, Life, and Death – a monster, a sick creature, and an angel. Why does Borden choose to personify them this way? Later on, Pain and her actions get an extended description. Why focus on Pain specifically, and as a harlot?
Answer. Pain, life and death are not abstract concepts, they are very real and omnipresent for all the characters in The Forbidden Zone. But how does on describe them to those who have never experienced the horror of mechanized warfare and who can never have an understanding of the soul-shredding experiences of those in the front lines of the First World War? The author, Mary Borden, decides to personify these three aspects of modern warfare as a monster, a sick creature and an angel. This is in order to process and communicate the incomprehensible horror and trauma of the war. By stripping away conventional notions of human heroism, her staccato sentence structure and fragmented approach to these concepts are used to represent the overwhelming, dehumanizing machinery of war. Specifically:
• Pain as a monster. Pain dominates the body and the will, reducing a human being to an animalistic state, in essence, turning the man into a monster. Through Boden, we witness men being reduced to anonymous, screaming bodies, stripped of their identity and dignity. This experience was so overwhelming and traumatic that it was easier to view the pain itself as a separate, monstrous entity devouring its victims, rather than considering the individual men who were suffering. Personifying pain as a monster represents its relentless and all-consuming nature. It suggests that the immense, mechanical scale of suffering on the front lines went beyond human comprehension or control, making it seem like a creature of pure destruction.
• Life as a sick creature. Life takes on a whole new definition in the trenches and hospitals along the frontlines. Life here is a sick creature reflecting the pervasive trauma and futility of war. In many cases, saving lives seemed absurd. Hospitals healed men only to send them back to the frontlines where they would be subject to further injury or death. Borden described the grim reality of mangled soldiers as “the dreadful wreckage of men”. “Life” is portrayed as a “sick animal” rattling and choking the fragile, pitiable existence rather than a noble or resilient force. It emphasizes how close life was to death in the frontlines, constantly teetering on the edge of extinction.
• Death as an angel. The depiction of death as an angel represents a distorted form of relief from the unending cycle of pain and suffering. Death is a release from agony for the severely wounded, and was not always the enemy but a release from a monstrous and protracted torment. The view of “Death” as an angel suggests that the medical attempts to prolong life were often just prolonging suffering. In the end, death is a figure of peace, like an angel, that releases a man from the monstrous pain and the sickly, fragile life surrounding the human body. It offers a promise of peace and finality, a welcome end to the futile chaos of war.
Focus on Pain as a harlot serves as a potent metaphor for war’s corrupting influence, particularly on the traditional roles and expectations of women. By casting the concept of Pain as a common, transactional figure, the concept is shown in a debased and dehumanized aspect of suffering during the First World War. This portrayal critiques how war redefines moral concepts and forces women, in this case nurses and those associated with battlefield care, into psychologically brutalizing roles. Pain, like the harlot, is a commercial entity. Pain “sells” her wares to all soldiers equally. Pain strips the suffering of any individual dignity or meaning to the point where pain is no longer a personal, honorable sacrifice but a transactional exchange in the war’s vast, indifferent machinery. Finally, a harlot is a familiar, if illicit, fixture of army encampments. The description implies that pain has become equally commonplace and vulgar in the trenches and hospitals. It is not a noble or profound experience but a mundane, almost banal, aspect of daily life that everyone is forced to acknowledge.
Question 3. Throughout The Forbidden Zone, the narrator will insist “They are not/no longer men”. She will even say in “Moonlight” that one cannot be a woman in the hospital. Why is this dehumanization of all humanity emphasized, and why is gender involved as well?
Answer. The dehumanization of men and the erasure of gender within the frontline hospital setting emphasizes how industrialized warfare systematically stripped away individual identity and humanity. The brutal efficiency of modern mechanized warfare and the detached medical process reduced people to mere objects, rendering traditional social roles like gender meaningless in the face of survival. In the First World War, war is now a mechanical machine, fed with human flesh, supported by industrial might, and sought to be repaired by other human flesh. War has negated the individual and reduced men and women to interchangeable parts in a devastating machine. Specifically:
• The soldier is a product of war. In the book, soldiers were “not/no longer men” because the experience of industrial-scale slaughter had fundamentally and irrevocably changed them. They were a physical and psychological result of the war rather than whole human beings.
• Detachment as a coping mechanism. The repeated trauma of treating mangled bodies forces the medical staff to adopt a dispassionate perspective. Surgeons would refer to patients simply as “legs” or “heads,” a chilling and necessary form of becoming calloused, working to achieve some psychological protection. This detachment is a coping mechanism for the emotional toll of their work, but it also reflects and perpetuates the overall dehumanization.
• The contrast with a “romanticized” war. By emphasizing the gritty, blood-soaked reality of the field hospital, the romanticized view of war often held by those back home is destroyed. The writing strips the “glamour from modern warfare” and expose its true, savage nature.
The erasure of gender is also significant. The statement that “one cannot be a woman in the hospital” highlights how the extreme, grotesque environment of war shattered traditional gender roles and expectations. Specifically:
• Masculinity and its destruction. For the soldiers, the war brutalized and distorted traditional notions of masculinity. The injuries they sustained were horrific, and the trauma they experienced broke the idealized image of the courageous warrior. By being reduced to damaged, passive bodies, screaming in pain and awakening to missing limbs, their social status as “men” was erased.
• Femininity and its denial. For the nurses and other female care-giver staff, the hospital was a space where the feminine ideal, one of gentleness and domesticity, had to be denied or discarded. To survive in the “forbidden zone,” they had to suppress their typical gender roles and become stoic, desensitized, and methodical in the face of constant suffering.
• The hospital as a liminal space. The field hospital existed outside the traditional social order. It was a liminal space where the traditional rules of gender and class no longer applied, and indeed, could be seen as a liability. For everyone within it, survival became the only defining trait, making individual identity, including gender, irrelevant.
In essence, The Forbidden Zone shows that the power of the war machine lay in its ability to consume and erase individual identity, both male and female. The hospital serves as a microcosm for this process, demonstrating how the industrial cruelty of the First World War dehumanized everyone and everything it touched.
Note on Liminal space. Liminal space in this case is defined as a transitional or in-between state, time, or place that exists on the threshold of something else. The term comes from the Latin word for “threshold” and can describe both physical locations like hallways or airports, and psychological states like periods of major life change, which often evoke feelings of unease or nostalgia.
Hi, I’d like to answer your third question!
Throughout The Forbidden Zone, the narrator will insist “They are not/no longer men”. She will even say in “Moonlight” that one cannot be a woman in the hospital. Why is this dehumanization of all humanity emphasized, and why is gender involved as well?
Something that has really stood out to me about The Forbidden Zone so far is the repeated metaphor of the war as a machine, with everyone in it acting as its cogs or its products. The war and its mechanical weapons are even personified several times throughout the book, juxtaposing with how the people in it are consistently dehumanized. I personally took this repeated metaphor of machinery and dehumanization to be Borden’s commentary on how, when something like war is so devastating to human life, the people acting in it lose at least some part of themselves in order to survive the horrors they are experiencing. The soldiers Borden writes about rarely give any indication of having personalities of their own, since the war has reduced them to being nothing more but pawns in the war’s game of chess against human life. Gender is just another factor that the soldiers have lost in this dehumanization, since in an environment with such unexpected and unparalleled brutality where men are forced to kill men, there is no longer room for them to be anything other than cogs in the machine. The environment of war is also completely isolated from everyday life, which includes the prevailing gender roles that society perpetuates. I think the insistance of “Moonlight”
(sorry, I accidentally hit the post button when I was trying to fix my spelling and I don’t think there’s a way to edit comments so I’ll just continue here 😭)
I think the insistence of “Moonlight” that women involved in the war *also* lose their sense of humanity and, subsequently, gender, is Borden’s way to combat the notion that women could not possibly be just as traumatized by the war as men, especially nurses and ambulance drivers. Misogyny (especially at the time) portrays women as overly emotional, frivolous, and hysterical, and these stereotypes were used to write off and minimize women’s trauma from the war as just them being silly, since the prevailing idea at the time was that the only way to truly be affected negatively by the war was to be a male soldier in the front lines. “Moonlight” not only distances the narrator from these harmful gender roles, but it also dehumanizes the narrator just like it dehumanizes the men in the story, emphasizing how women and men in the war are more similar than not and how both have been negatively impacted.