Slaughterhouse-Five
Author:
Genres: Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
Author:
Genres: Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
To what degree this book is autobiographical is certainly debatable, but the incident at the center, the bombing of Dresden at the end of the Second World War, clearly inflicted a wound on the author which affected him for the remainder of his life. I don't want to rehash the content of the book, because there are so many reviews here which already have, so I'll just post my impressions. First, I like hybrid things, and this book certainly qualifies. It transgresses the boundaries of genre and any semblance of traditional narrative. To call it "postmodern" is an understatement: it's almost schizophrenic, at times reveling in its absurdity, but all the pieces work somehow. It's satire, but only just. Nor would I label science fiction in the traditional sense, although it certainly has some of those elements. What follows here is probably as garbled as the work it addresses, but here are my thoughts:
Vonnegut initially recounts his experience of informing an acquaintance that he was attempting to write an "anti-war book," whereupon the friend tells him that he "might as well write an anti-glacier book," so Vonnegut wrote an anti-war book that wasn't an overt anti-war book. It's impossible to describe what it's actually about, as its snapshots will say something different to just about everyone. It's more about what the reader gets out of it, because it is so genuinely thought-provoking. I often wonder how veterans of the great conflict dealt with the aftermath of serving in one of the most tragic periods of human history, as their experiences with PTSD are discussed much less than those of soldiers in later conflicts. Theirs are probably rather distinct from the experiences of the next generation of US soldiers fighting someone else's war, in Vietnam. There are undoubtedly similarities, but there must be many differences, too.
I've also often wondered if KV started writing because the war in Vietnam, just getting into full swing around the time he began publishing books, is what triggered his prolific activity. I certainly think that the world around him had something to do with his outlook. His war was once called "the war to end all wars," but the appalling absurdity of that statement by that time was clear, after the tentative armistice of the Korean War and the start of yet another conflict, which by that time wasn't being called a war at all by those in power. Current events clearly contributed significantly to his cynicism about his experiences in WWII. Seeing their sons going off to fight a war with dubious causes had to have a powerful impact on those who fought, in what most consider the only true kind of "just war," when clearly the one at the time he was writing was viewed by most Americans as anything but.
KV's characteristic dark humor seems to stem from a sense of futility, resignation, helplessness, and not least, cognizance of the true nature of the human condition. War is inevitable; might as well make jokes about it... When talking to Harrison Starr, the movie producer, who told him when he said he was writing a book about Dresden, which was an anti-war book, "You know what I say to people when I hear they're writing anti-war books? ... I say, 'why don't you write an anti-glacier book instead?'" which KV acknowledged as well: "what he meant, of course, was that there would always be wars, that they were as easy to stop as glaciers. I believe that, too." Maybe anti-war books aren't as much anti-war as they are an expression of how we deal with the aftermath, on both the societal and human levels: shared insomnia with the now-district-attorney he calls in the middle of the night, who, of course, was up, while everyone else in the house was asleep. Things are relative: KV's father told him on one occasion, "you know, you never wrote a story with a villain in it." Because, aren't we all, in some sense or another?
Like Billy's story, Slaughterhouse-Five jumps around in time, giving little sense of time and space, which readers often report that they have difficulty connecting with. Of course. Indeed, his work in general seems more a collection of jigsaw puzzle pieces which you have to work to make sense of, and that's the point. Of course. The war stories are reminiscent of Hemingway, but with none of the latter's sense of the glory of combat and man's contesting with man.
In the end, I think that the most revealing aspect of the book is the sheer number of personal stories recounted by so many reviewers after reading this book, describing how it spoke to them when they read it after having asked relatives about their experiences or memories of the war, after the death of loved ones, on plane rides to and from funerals, and how profound it seemed in reminding them to remember the good times and to live in the moments which have the most joy and fulfillment, something we would all do well to keep in mind.
FAVOITE PASSAGES:
Here's the book... it is so short and jumbled and jangled... because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is except for the birds.
No art is possible without a dance with death...
Like so many Americans, she was trying to trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.
The doctors agreed: he was going crazy. They didn't think it had anything to do with the war. They were sure Billy was going to pieces because his father had thrown him into the deep end of the YMCA swimming pool when he was a little boy, and had taken him to the rim of the Grand Canyon.
Another time Billy heard Rosewater say to a psychiatrist: 'I think you guys are going to have to come up with a lot of wonderful NEW lies, or people just aren't going to want to go on living.'
Vonnegut initially recounts his experience of informing an acquaintance that he was attempting to write an "anti-war book," whereupon the friend tells him that he "might as well write an anti-glacier book," so Vonnegut wrote an anti-war book that wasn't an overt anti-war book. It's impossible to describe what it's actually about, as its snapshots will say something different to just about everyone. It's more about what the reader gets out of it, because it is so genuinely thought-provoking. I often wonder how veterans of the great conflict dealt with the aftermath of serving in one of the most tragic periods of human history, as their experiences with PTSD are discussed much less than those of soldiers in later conflicts. Theirs are probably rather distinct from the experiences of the next generation of US soldiers fighting someone else's war, in Vietnam. There are undoubtedly similarities, but there must be many differences, too.
I've also often wondered if KV started writing because the war in Vietnam, just getting into full swing around the time he began publishing books, is what triggered his prolific activity. I certainly think that the world around him had something to do with his outlook. His war was once called "the war to end all wars," but the appalling absurdity of that statement by that time was clear, after the tentative armistice of the Korean War and the start of yet another conflict, which by that time wasn't being called a war at all by those in power. Current events clearly contributed significantly to his cynicism about his experiences in WWII. Seeing their sons going off to fight a war with dubious causes had to have a powerful impact on those who fought, in what most consider the only true kind of "just war," when clearly the one at the time he was writing was viewed by most Americans as anything but.
KV's characteristic dark humor seems to stem from a sense of futility, resignation, helplessness, and not least, cognizance of the true nature of the human condition. War is inevitable; might as well make jokes about it... When talking to Harrison Starr, the movie producer, who told him when he said he was writing a book about Dresden, which was an anti-war book, "You know what I say to people when I hear they're writing anti-war books? ... I say, 'why don't you write an anti-glacier book instead?'" which KV acknowledged as well: "what he meant, of course, was that there would always be wars, that they were as easy to stop as glaciers. I believe that, too." Maybe anti-war books aren't as much anti-war as they are an expression of how we deal with the aftermath, on both the societal and human levels: shared insomnia with the now-district-attorney he calls in the middle of the night, who, of course, was up, while everyone else in the house was asleep. Things are relative: KV's father told him on one occasion, "you know, you never wrote a story with a villain in it." Because, aren't we all, in some sense or another?
Like Billy's story, Slaughterhouse-Five jumps around in time, giving little sense of time and space, which readers often report that they have difficulty connecting with. Of course. Indeed, his work in general seems more a collection of jigsaw puzzle pieces which you have to work to make sense of, and that's the point. Of course. The war stories are reminiscent of Hemingway, but with none of the latter's sense of the glory of combat and man's contesting with man.
In the end, I think that the most revealing aspect of the book is the sheer number of personal stories recounted by so many reviewers after reading this book, describing how it spoke to them when they read it after having asked relatives about their experiences or memories of the war, after the death of loved ones, on plane rides to and from funerals, and how profound it seemed in reminding them to remember the good times and to live in the moments which have the most joy and fulfillment, something we would all do well to keep in mind.
FAVOITE PASSAGES:
Here's the book... it is so short and jumbled and jangled... because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is except for the birds.
No art is possible without a dance with death...
Like so many Americans, she was trying to trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.
The doctors agreed: he was going crazy. They didn't think it had anything to do with the war. They were sure Billy was going to pieces because his father had thrown him into the deep end of the YMCA swimming pool when he was a little boy, and had taken him to the rim of the Grand Canyon.
Another time Billy heard Rosewater say to a psychiatrist: 'I think you guys are going to have to come up with a lot of wonderful NEW lies, or people just aren't going to want to go on living.'
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