The Bourne Identity

“The words came first. They floated in the air as the early morning breeze off the sea cooled the room.

‘Who’s there? Who’s in the room?’

Washburn sat up in the cot, moved his legs quietly over the side, and rose slowly to his feet. It was important to make no jarring note, no sudden noise or physical movement.”

In direct contrast to the chaos and danger of the sea, Bourne’s first moments of restored consciousness are of quiet and calm. This juxtaposition emphasizes the rebirth that Bourne has undergone. Pulled from the sea in a symbolic rebirth, he now faces a period of calm recovery with Dr. Washburn’s help.

“The man looked at the gun. And then, in silence, his hands and fingers moved expertly over the weapon. In less than thirty seconds it was completely dismantled. He looked up at the doctor.”

As Washburn tries to help Bourne heal, he shows him some of the things that Bourne instinctively remembers, such as how to disassemble a handgun. These first moments with Bourne’s character foreshadow his involvement with weapons and death, hinting toward the identity that will be uncovered throughout the novel.

“A sense of helplessness, of drifting without a rudder to put you on course. I’ve been your rudder, and I won’t be with you; there’s nothing I can do about that. But believe me when I tell you, you are not helpless. You will find your way.”

The metaphor that Washburn uses as the two part ways emphasizes his value to Bourne. He compares Bourne to a boat and himself to the rudder, steering Bourne as he attempts to assimilate back into society. This metaphor evokes the theme of The Value of Human Connection, as Washburn is an invaluable part of Bourne’s journey. At the same time, Washburn reminds Bourne of his inner strength, insisting that he can continue on his own.

“His insane reverie was broken; the nervous passenger next to him had touched his left arm—which was raised, the fingers of his hand spread, as if resisting, rigid in their locked position. Across his chest his right forearm was pressed into the cloth of his jacket, his right hand gripping the lapel, bunching the fabric. And on his forehead were rivulets of sweat.”

When Bourne flies on the plane to Zurich, he has his first flashback to his past, remembering a time when he jumped from a plane over the jungle. This moment gives the reader hints toward Bourne’s past, foreshadowing his involvement with the military. At the same time, it highlights the precarious situation that Bourne is in: He will often have memories that are so vivid as to be debilitating.

“He stopped walking, his breath suspended, a form of paralysis sweeping over him. His eyes did not believe what else he saw beyond the glass doors. A brown Peugeot pulled up in the circular drive in front of the first taxi. Its doors opened and a man stepped out—a killer in a black raincoat.”

After Bourne flees the men at the bank, he returns to the hotel—only to discover that the same men are already there. This moment introduces the reader to the severe dangers that Bourne will face throughout the novel. Often, the antagonists that he faces have a preternatural ability to follow him anywhere, seeming to anticipate Bourne’s movements. Like the Furies of Greek myth and tragedy, they embody the consequences of Bourne’s past actions, pursuing him relentlessly as he tries to escape the burden of memory.

“‘Please…’

The supplication was a cry for help; he heard it for what it was but could not respond. For the next hour or so he needed this woman, needed her as a lame man needed a crutch.”

When Marie begs Bourne to let her go, the reader is given insight into Bourne’s character and The Psychological Cost of Deception and Secrecy. Bourne is horrified by mounting evidence that he may have been a trained killer. He hates the fact that he has to kidnap Marie and does not want to hurt her. The simile “as a lame man needed a crutch,” while using outdated and ableist language, conveys Bourne’s guilt at using Marie as a tool for his own survival.

“He leaned back against the car and let himself drift with the currents of his mind. A noise intruded. A motor, rolling and disruptive. He did not care for it; it interfered with the freedom of his own particular sea. Then a hand was on his arm. Then another, gently pulling him up.”

After Bourne fights off the man attacking Marie, he succumbs to his injuries, allowing the darkness to take him over. Ludlum uses the motif of the sea to convey this idea, with Bourne falling into a peaceful “particular sea” that allows him to find peace in his constant struggle. However, Marie’s presence intrudes on this, proving her value to his survival.

“I’ve always been told it’s the most horrible experience a woman can go through. I believe it now. And I heard the anger—the disgust—in your own voice when you shouted at him. I’ll never forget that moment as long as I live, as much as I may want to.”

Because the point of view focuses on Bourne for much of the novel, the reader is rarely given insight into Marie’s thoughts. However, her words here, describing the attempted rape she experienced, give valuable insight into her character. In her mind, Bourne is different from the man who attacked her because he understands the “anger” and “disgust” of attempting to rape someone. She draws a distinction in her mind between killing someone in self-defense, as Bourne does, and willfully attacking an innocent woman.

“The sun had risen to the midpoint of the surrounding trees, its rays filtered by windblown branches, streaming through the windows and mottling the walls with irregular shapes of light. Bourne lay back on the pillow, exhausted. He had finished, there was nothing more to say.”

After Marie commits to helping Bourne, he tells her his entire story, finally giving in to her as he understands the value of human connection. The sun rising outside the window is a metaphor for the shift that has occurred in Bourne’s life. After leaving Washburn and struggling alone, he now feels hope that he can continue to survive with Marie’s support.

“When they were together they talked, at first awkwardly, the thrusts and parries of strangers thrown together and surviving the shock waves of cataclysm. They tried to insert normalcy where none could exist, but it was easier when they both accepted the essential abnormality.”

These words, which come at the beginning of Part 2, lend insight into the relationship between Marie and Bourne. Central to their relationship is the trauma that they have both faced. Having survived, they find comfort in each other and their abnormal situation.

“For a time he was out of the violent darkness, beyond the crashing waters; he had found a moment of sunlight—like the moments and the sunlight that had filled a room in a village inn—and he had to reach the one who had given them to him. Reach her and hold her and tell her there was hope.”

Ludlum continues to use the sea as a motif to explain how Bourne is feeling. Here, he underscores the theme of the value of human connection by comparing Marie’s love to “sunlight.” For him, his past is filled with “violent darkness,” but Marie gives him hope that he can survive it.

“His personal labyrinth had no walls, no defined corridors through which to race. Only space, and swirling mists in the darkness that he saw so clearly when he opened his eyes at night and felt the sweat pouring down his face.”

Ludlum uses an extended metaphor in the novel to describe Bourne’s situation, comparing how he is feeling to being trapped in a “labyrinth,” symbolizing the impact that Bourne’s memories and his past have on him. He feels as though he is literally trapped, unable to fully understand—or fully escape—his past.

“The gray-haired switchboard operator suddenly could not breathe; he was suspended in a moment of disbelief, staring at a face, a head, he had not seen in years. And then almost always in darkness, for they had worked at night…died at night.”

This passage highlights the importance of the shifting third-person point of view that the novel uses throughout the text. Although Bourne recognizes the man at the switchboard, he isn’t sure why. However, by shifting the perspective to the switchboard operator, Ludlum creates a sense of foreboding and danger. Now that Bourne has been identified, his secret mission to infiltrate Les Classiques has been jeopardized.

“You’re insane. You don’t give ultimatums to Carlos. […] Then you’re dead. You raise your voice to anyone and you won’t last the day. He has men everywhere; they’ll cut you down in the street.”

When Bourne takes Lavier to a restaurant and forces her to talk about Carlos, her reactions emphasize the far-reaching and dangerous impact that Carlos has over those around him. As depicted by the italicized words, Lavier’s reaction borders on panic, as she fears for both herself and Bourne if he tries to take on Carlos.

“‘The man called Jason Bourne,’ said Abbott […] ‘is an American intelligence officer. There is no Cain, not the one Carlos believes. He’s a lure, a trap for Carlos; that’s who he is.’”

This moment marks a key development in the plot to uncover Bourne’s identity. Through the shifting perspective, Ludlum creates dramatic irony. Because the reader is able to see the meeting at Treadstone, the reader now knows that Bourne is not truly an assassin, providing relief that Marie’s thoughts were correct all along.

“It is Bourne out there, you know. Cain turned; he broke. The long period of silence is over. The snake from Medusa’s head decided to strike out on his own.”

When the European man confronts Abbott about Cain in his car and then kills him, he uses the metaphor of Medusa the mythological being. This is an example of a double entendre, as Medusa represents both the project in the Vietnam War and the mythical Gorgon. The man compares Bourne to a snake, biting back at Treadstone and, essentially, attacking the people who should be protecting him.

“They came together, touching, holding, closing out the abusive world that refused them peace, that kept them balancing on taut wires next to one another, high above a dark abyss; if either fell, it was the end for both.”

This metaphor compares Bourne and Marie to two people walking across a tightrope. Their situation is precarious, with multiple dangers that could cause them to fall. However, despite this danger, the metaphor emphasizes the value of human connection: As long as they have each other for support, they believe they can survive.

“I want him. […] He was never real, and that’s his crime against me. Tell the old men that if any find him, get word to Parc Monceau but do nothing. Keep him in sight, but do nothing! I want him alive on the twenty-fifth of March. On March 25 I’ll execute him myself.”

The shifting point of view lends insight into Carlos’s mindset as Bourne systematically dismantles his communication system in Les Classiques. The italicized words emphasize the change that has occurred within Carlos, providing hope that Bourne is succeeding. Carlos is becoming increasingly angry and desperate as he fights to stop Bourne, losing his calm façade.

“‘I’m worried, Jason. It’s tearing him apart. He nearly broke down on the phone. What happens when he looks at her? What must he be feeling, thinking?’

‘He’ll handle it,’ said Bourne.”

After Marie speaks with Villiers, who is becoming increasingly upset at pretending that he does not know of his wife’s betrayal, she tries to get Bourne to understand what Villiers is going through. However, Bourne is dismissive, insistent that Villiers will be okay. This moment foreshadows the fact that Villiers will kill his wife, while also underscoring the difference between Bourne and Marie. While she is meticulous and methodical, he attacks the situation head-on without considering the repercussions.

“Jacqueline Lavier was dead, her body slumped forward, rolled to the side, supported by the prayer stall, her mask a face upturned, her eyes wide, staring in death at the ceiling. […] Bourne closed the curtain and stepped away from the booth. From somewhere high in a tower, the bells of the morning Angelus rang splendidly.”

When Bourne finds Lavier’s body, the “splendid” church bells contrast with the appearance of her body in the confessional. This juxtaposition creates a sense of dread and fear, as Carlos has continued to be one step ahead of Bourne. At the same time, this scene emphasizes how truly powerful Carlos is, as he was able to commit murder discreetly in a church.

“[Bourne] crawled around the rear wheels of the automobile on his right, arms and legs working rapidly, quietly, down the narrow alley of vehicles, a spider scurrying across a web.”

As Bourne dismantles Les Classiques and shakes Carlos’s calm, he begins to take back control of his life. This metaphor, which compares Bourne to a spider, conveys the shift that has occurred. Instead of being caught in a web, Bourne is now the predator.

“Bourne raised his automatic, the crippled figure in his gunsight. A split half-second and it would be over, his enemy from Treadstone dead, hope found with that death, for there were reasonable men in Washington. He could not do it; he could not pull the trigger. He lowered the gun, standing helpless by the marble column as Conklin climbed into his car.”

As Bourne watches Conklin crawl away in the cemetery, he knows that he should kill him to protect himself. However, he cannot bring himself to do so, instead allowing Conklin to leave. This moment underscores the humanity and empathy that exists within Bourne, proving that he is not the monster he fears he is.

“As [Bourne] knew why Parc Monceau had struck such chords in his mind’s eye. That small part of Paris was so much like this short stretch of the Upper East Side.”

When Bourne arrives in Manhattan, he is reminded of Parc Monceau and Villiers’s home. This comparison makes an important point about the politics of the novel. Both Carlos and Treadstone use similar places for their schemes, underscoring their similarities. Both use people to meet their ends, care little about those that are harmed, and will do whatever it takes to stay ahead of enemy nations. Ultimately, this comparison conveys the psychological cost of deception and secrecy.