Soldiers are familiar with the term “fog of war,” where chaos and uncertainty on the battlefield can cause even more casualties. But there’s another meaning in this short story, deftly written by author Max Brooks (who also penned World War Z). The fog of war here also represents the narrator’s cloud of doubt about the necessity of fighting and if we can really understand the true cost of armed conflict to society.

Soldiers who have seen firsthand the destruction of human life, freedom, and dignity because of war are closest to understanding matters of sacrifice and duty. It’s appropriate then that Tiger Chair’s narrator is a soldier, and what he has experienced in war–the cost on both sides–makes him not only question its necessity, but its limitation in achieving any real stability and control. 

By the end of these 50 pages, there is much to dissect about Tiger Chair, which seems just this side of plausible. The themes are universal and Brooks taps into a scenario that would shake any generation. 

Tiger Chair is a short story, but it packs the weight of a novel. I personally go into a story “cold” and ignore the description, but that payoff is huge when the story genuinely surprises.

Tiger Chair is surprising in a number of ways. Without spoiling details, the story is able to connect at the personal level first, then expand outward, showing from the narrator’s point of view a major armed conflict. This war is fought–like any war–with people, information, and technology. It shows the unpredictability of occupying captured territory, the wider information campaigns to win public sentiment, and how technology is not always the deciding factor. The latter, which examines some plausible computing technology used in modern warfare, was actually some of the most eye-opening parts of the story, I thought.

I also enjoyed where the story touched on how the occupying government tried to apply pressure on celebrities to align their social media with official government messages and squash dissent. That was a pretty chilling part.

Writing about war should, by necessity, focus on its destruction. Ignoring that reality is ignoring basic human decency. Brooks writes battle scenes that work as standalone records of death, but also are important to understanding the lessons war should teach those on and off the front lines. 

What does it mean to be a patriot? How long do you commit to carrying on killing to achieve an end goal? These are tough topics, and Brooks does not shy away from dealing with them. He actually provides an answer through the narrator’s decision about his own role. It’s a powerful endnote to a story that examines very real, and very hard realities that any country and generation at war must face.

5/5 stars

-Josh