So.... we've finished, and I've arrived at what I assume is a cliché question for this novel: Why is the last word "Peace" (827)?
Clearly, the novel has been deconstructing the Cold War, and the physical and psychological destruction it caused despite being "cold" (ex: the children with deformities, the nuclear waste, the fear and paranoia). So does the word represent Dellilo's plea? His wish?
Nick himself seems to have settled into some form of acceptance with himself and his life, but he says: "I long for the days of disorder. I want them back, the days when I was alive on the earth, rippling in the quick of my skin, heedless and real. I was dumb-muscled and angry and real. This is what I long for, the breach of peace, the days of disarray when I walked the real streets and did things slap-bang and felt angry and ready all the time, a danger to others and a distant mystery to myself" (810). Nick does not long for peace, but for the days of his irrational youthful anger and readiness for violence. Perhaps he is a victim of the Cold War era, then, and can never exist happily in a world of peace. He was a child of the Cold War, and his identity was constructed on that mentality.
Do you think that the novel offers hope for peace? Or a warning? There is talk at the end of redemption, and realization of reprecussions. But we all know that the world today does not exist in a state of peace, and suffering due to war continues, so perhaps we have failed Dellilo in that way.
Nick's longing for disorder reminded me of the section early on in the novel where Marvin (I believe) was talking about how "the Cold War is your friend." It's almost as though war is easier for the characters than peace would be. I guess that makes a little bit of sense; sadly, it's easier to be like "okay, let's just bomb the hell out of these people" than to work through negotiations and such.
I certainly felt a hope for peace at the end of the novel. The last paragraph before the final word seemed to be trying to give off something, that's for sure. I noticed the word "yellow" a lot in that paragraph, which strikes me as a particularly peaceful and happy color (like the sun). The word "sunlit" is actually mentioned, as well. I'm not sure if he poses a responsibility for the readers, though.
I think you're right on track with the idea that war is much easier for humans than peace is. Not just easier though, I think they like it because it gives them a sense of purpose. We've been talking a lot in class about how being in the face of death makes you feel like you're important. On page 810, when Nick is wrapping up his life, he says,
"I long for the days of disoorder. I want them back, the days when I was alive on the earth, rippling in the quick of my skin, heedless and real. I was dumb-muscled and angry and real. This is what I long for, the breach of peace, the days of disarray when I walked real streets and did things slap-band and felt angry and ready all the time, a gander to others and a distant mystery to myself."
First of all, I think it's really interesting that Delillo writes, "A breach of peace" considering that peace is the last word of the novel. I understand what you all mean when you say that the end of the novel disappointed you a little and seemed simplistic. However, I think it's meant to be exactly what you are saying KKT, where this word flashes in front of them and for us it seems like the word we throw out to be vague, when in reality it is the most specific and unattainable thing.
I also think that Nick is trying to say that at least when he was angry he was passionate. When he finds out about Brian and Marian he is almost inclined to tell Brian to take his place because he never really felt like a husband anyway. He doesn't seem to feel emotions since the murder, which is when he stopped being angry (I assume).
As I said in my blog entry (above), I feel very ambivalent about the end of the novel. For all the idyllic yellow and sunny imagery which DeLillo uses to describe peace, he just as quickly reduces it to "only a sequence of pulses on a dullish screen and all it can do is make you pensive" and "a word that spreads a longing through the raw sprawl of the city and out across the dreaming bourns and orchards to the solitary hills" (827). The longing and the raw simplicity of the pulses on screen makes me wonder to what extent DeLillo thinks peace is truly attainable. Maybe DeLillo focuses so much on memory because it is what allows us to transform little dots, data points and delta t's into the multidimensional reality that we perceive?