Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Live from WOOF Studios, the Channel 3 News

In Chapter 9 of Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut includes several comments of his own on "the real world." One example is found on page 200, when Vonnegut says, "The news of the day, meanwhile, was being written in a ribbon of lights on a building to billy's back. The window reflected the news. It was about power and sports and anger and death. So it goes."
See what I mean? Vonnegut is directly satirizing what has become of the daily news. From several TV anchors to a repetitive replication of the same news over and over across several stations, the news isn't exactly new anymore. It's become more of the same. In Vonnegut's eyes, it's the same daily across American news stations with focus on power, sports, anger, and death. In a nutshell, Vonnegut is right. This is essentially all that ever appears on the news, with all the topics falling into at least one of the categories, if not several. (Well, except for the weather, but what do the weathermen know anyways?) Vonnegut is directly criticizing the news, and he generalized what every local TV station has been reiterating for years now.
The local news have been critiqued across several spectrums, including the TV show "Whose Line Is It Anyways?" Vonnegut is simply jumping on board with his critique of the news by simply stating the only four categories that ever seem to occur on the news. Vonnegut satirizes the news accurately, and I'm sure no one can truly argue one way or the other against his point.
And to conclude, I'm going to leave it to the "Boom Goes the Dynamite" Guy. Enjoy:

Monday, July 30, 2012

Lily Learns a Thing or Two

In Chapter 9 of Slaughterhouse-Five, Vonnegut briefly introduces a few new characters to the life of Billy Pilgrim. While in the hospital after his plane crashed, Pilgrim's roommates, Bertram Rumfoord, and his wife Lily. Rumfoord's fifth wife, Lily is indirectly characterized by Vonnegut as an uneducated high school dropout with little knowledge inside her head. In fact, could she even read?
Here are a few things Vonnegut directly states about Lily's character: she is Rumfoord's fifth wife and is twenty-three years of age.
Indirectly, Vonnegut later characterizes her as a pretty young girl, but I wouldn't say the lights are exactly on upstairs. Vonnegut says, "[Lily] had been an a-go-go girl when Rumfoord saw her and resolved to make her his own. She was a high school dropout. Her IQ was 103" (184). Honestly, I don't know too much about IQs, but I do know that if Vonnegut were to mention it, I doubt it would be too high. Especially about poor Lily, who just doesn't seem to know any better. Poor Lily. The reader also knows that she was a high school dropout and an a-go-go, so her life hasn't gone extremely smoothly. She has had a rough life so far, and marrying an old man like Rumfoord seemed to be a good option for her, so that also tells the reader how slowly the cogs are turning in her head. Let's just say she isn't exactly the brightest Crayola in the box.
Later in the chapter, Vonnegut continues to indirectly characterize Lily as a dim-witted dropout with a life made difficult by her lack of education. A few examples of Lily's uneducation include:
  • "She didn't read well, which was one of the reasons she dropped out of high school" (185). The poor girl can't read? Yikes. Most people learn to read by high school, so that's a great example of Lily's sad lack of education.
  • "He knew very little about her, except that she was one more public demonstration that he was superman" (185). She probably only married the guy for his money. She couldn't actually love him. Shaking my head.
  • "So Lily sat down and pretended to read the Truman thing" (185). I can actually hear her saying, "Ok, I'll just read this Truman thing." Lily is somewhat of a stereotypical teenager with poor speaking abilities.
Those are three examples I found, and all are on the very next page from the introduction of Lily. it's sad that she hasn't gotten proper education throughout her life. She has struggled greatly in the classroom, but at least she's pretty. That seems to be all that Rumfoord cares about her, and he married her for all the wrong reasons. Although her lack of education isn't something to be laughed at, Vonnegut probably introduces her into his book as a form of satirizing high school dropouts who later marry old men for money. Vonnegut is trying to make fun of the uneducated women in American society. Shaking my head.

Friday, July 27, 2012

A Story Within A Story Within A Story Within.....

A frame inside a frame inside a frame

Chapter 8 of Slaughterhouse-Five is probably best described as a frame story. In fact, it's more than just that. It's more like a frame-frame-frame-frame story, or something along those lines. The entire chapter is interlocked as a paragon of Vonnegut's story-telling thus far. Inside a few of the stories, he tells stories of stories from the original frame, and vice versa.
For example, the chapter's original frame begins by describing American Nazi Howard W. Campbell, Jr. Edgar Derby would later stick up for American rights, telling Campbell he was something worse than a snake for being a traitor (Benedict Arnold-esque for leaving the American side).
The chapter then jumps to an original frame from long ago, with Billy's daughter scolding his behavior and wishing to kill Kilgore Trout for putting such crazy thoughts into his head.
Now the chapter shifts to a segue of Billy's first time meeting Trout, who is now a circulation man for the Ilium Gazette.
An excellent example of a frame inside this encounter is found on page 167, when Vonnegut describes the situation as, "'Hell no,' said Kilgore Trout. 'You think money grows on trees?' Trout, incidentally, had written a book about a money tree. It had twenty-dollar bills for leaves. Its flowers were government bonds. Its fruit was diamonds. It attracted human beings who killed each other around the roots and made very good fertilizer. So it goes." This frame story is somewhat of an aside because it is so brief; however it is a frame story because he shifts from the original story into a description of one of Trout's books, including several details.
More frames are found throughout the chapter, including Billy's eighteenth wedding anniversary party, his recall of the Dresden bombing (which is what I was talking about when I said he tells stories of stories from the original frame, or in this case, the beginning of the chapter), which leads to another story within a story, when Billy travels to Tralfamadore to tell Montana Wildhack of his experience after the bombing on the "moon" of Dresden.
This is an excellent transition from Vonnegut because the rest of the chapter focuses on the moon/Dresden. Billy Pilgrim was in his bedroom, reminiscing on the Dresden bombing, and the story shifts to that setting. Then, Billy comes unstuck in time and recalls when he told Montana Wildhack about the bombing. He then recalls fleeing to a suburb and finding an inn to sleep in for the night. In a way, Vonnegut has accomplished a difficult task of framing the anniversary party around Dresden bombing around Montana Wildhack in Tralfamadore around Dresden again.
Vonnegut probably placed the entirety of Chapter 8 in a frame setting to remind the reader of several various settings throughout the book's plot. He is also able to remind the reader of how Billy has been coming unstuck in time. However, the entire book has been centered around the Dresden bombing, and in this chapter, the reader encounters the climax of the plot of the bombing story. Personally, I am curious to find out what will happen in the next two chapters. How will Vonnegut be able to conclude all the side stories that have evolved throughout the entire book? I know Billy will live for a while because I already know how and when he will die. But how will everything else turn out? I guess I'll just have to read to find out.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

That's One Small Step for Man

In Chapter 8 of Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut develops a cliche about how Dresden had transformed into the moon after the bombing. Vonnegut is able to portray an image of a barren wasteland to the reader where everything that once was there, only used to be there. In the quote, "Dresden was like the moon now, nothing but minerals. The stones were hot. Everybody else in the neighborhood was dead" (178), Vonnegut first introduces his comparison between Dresden and the moon. As a reader, I instantly thought, "Wow" because it made me realize just how severe the damage truly was. Vonnegut is able to transform this experience that few people could relate or connect to into an experience that everyone can connect to. Everyone on Earth can relate to a simile of the moon because everyone on Earth has seen the moon and knows what it looks like. With this first simile, Vonnegut is able to grab the reader's attention and explain symbolically what it was like.
But he wasn't done there.
What makes this simile a cliche are Vonnegut's repetitive references to his original simile of "Dresden was like the moon." For the next few pages, Vonnegut's effort of focusing on his simile becomes cliche, or a dead simile (which isn't technically on the literary terms sheet, but I made it up because it isn't quite a dead metaphor).
For example,
  • On page 179, when Billy is describing the bombing of Dresden to Montana Wildhack, he says, "'It was like the moon.'" Vonnegut's first directly refers to the original simile. ("Dresden was like the moon.")
  • Later, on the same page and into the next one (180), Vonnegut describes the reaction to the bombing as, "It was realized then that there was no food or water, and that the survivors, if they were going to survive, were going to have to climb over curve after curve on the face of the moon." Here, Vonnegut is describing the rocky surface of the remains of the town. In this way, he is abstractly comparing Dresden to the craters of the moon. This could be seen as an extended or implied metaphor.
  • In the next sentence, Vonnegut says, "The curves were smooth only when seen from a distance" (180). Just like, say, the moon, perhaps?
  • In the following paragraph, Vonnegut includes two references to the moon with "Nobody talked much as the expedition crossed the moon." (180) and "There were to be no moon men at all" (180). The latter of these references is also an extended/implied metaphor that these survivors are now akin to moon men.
Therefore, Vonnegut's original simile comparing Dresden to the moon has grown tired and cliche. The spontaneity is now gone, and the effect of the initial simile is now ineffective. With Vonnegut's repetetive comparison to the moon, the reader is no longer thinking "Wow" and is now thinking "Okay, I get it. Dresden is the moon. It's been established." Vonnegut's original simile was excellent, but by the end of the chapter, the comparison has been over-emphasized.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Wait Till the Sun Shines Nellie

The previous song is a rendition of "Wait Till the Sun Shines, Nelly" with Bing Crosby and Mary Martin. According to Wikipedia, "Wait Till the Sun Shines, Nelly" was a popular 1905 song written by Harry Von Tilzer and lyrics by Andrew B. Sterling. Traditionally, floor traders at the New York Stock Exchange sing this song on the final trading day of every year, in addition to Christmas Eve, because the song has been the stock exchange anthem since 1934.
On page 156, Kurt Vonnegut alludes to this song by stating, "The barbershop quartet on the airplane was singing 'Wait Till the Sun Shines, Nelly,' when the plane smacked into the top of Sugarbush Mountain in Vermont. Everybody was killed but Billy and the copilot. So it goes."
Ah, how tragic! The barbershop is singing an incredibly upbeat and happy tune just before the plane crash. So it goes. (And - by the way - who doesn't love a good barbershop quartet? I can only think of one person who might disagree...)
After listening to that song a few times myself, I have already fallen in love. It's such a catchy tune! I immediately picture four men in dashing red-and-white-striped shirts, mustaches, suspenders, and white hats singing in perfect harmony while the audience applauds. Ah, 1905! The "Good Ol' Days!" I remember those years like they were yesterday... What? That's just me? Oh, alright.
The question now is, what purpose did Vonnegut have with the allusion to this song? Like I mentioned earlier, Vonnegut's purpose was to give the reader the image of everything working perfectly one second, and horribly the next. Everything is seemingly status quo in the plane with the quartet beautifully singing a fun, happy song (after singing a few crude, racist tunes) and tons of optometrists recalling old times. (Side note: What could a bunch of optometrists really talk about anyways? Example: Optometrist 1: Yeah, this patient of mine was nearsighted, but I accidentally told him he was farsighted. He walks into a door because he couldn't see! Hahahaha!
Optometrist 2: Hahahaha! Great story, Jim. One time I had this old lady who was as blind as a bat, so I gave her trifocals! And even then she couldn't see! Hahahaha... It was the funniest thing, you had to be there...... Yeah, sounds like a great plane ride....) Anyways, everything is going great, until- BANG! The plane crashes and no one saw it coming. Only two survive alive. The rest... weren't so lucky. So it goes.
So that's what I think Vonnegut's purpose was with "Wait Till the Sun Shines, Nelly." He was creating a mood of liveliness and happiness until, one second later, everything changes. I can immediately picture the scene. How tragic.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho, It's Off to Work We Go

Chapter 7 of Slaughterhouse-Five is by far the shortest in the book at just eight pages. However, although the chapter is short, it is still loaded with material. In fact, on just the 2nd page of the chapter, I was able to find a blog topic: a quatrain in the middle of typical text... with hilarious dialect. On page 155, I found the quote:
     "Me and Mike, ve vork in mine.
      Holy shit, ve have good time.
      Vunce a veek ve get our pay.
      Holy shit, no vork next day."
After reading this quatrain, I immediately began laughing at the idea of these men singing this song in a mine. I could then hear their distinct accent, mainly from Vonnegut's way of spelling the words, and I laughed more.
When I read this quatrain, I wondered if he was alluding to an actual song or not. After all, whenever I thought of miners singing, I always used to think of Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy from Snow White. After some brief research, I discovered that Vonnegut must have simply made up the song. From now on, I am positive that the "Me and Mike, ve vork in mine" song will now come to my mind instead of "Heigh Ho"
Vonnegut must have written this quatrain as a form of satirizing the Pennsylvanian coal miners . Again, Vonnegut displayed his mastery of conveying dialect through text, and he alsowas able to produce more humor from his book.
So, yeah, that's pretty much all I have to say about that humorous quatrain. I feel like ending this blog post with a song. 7 Dwarves, take it away:

Friday, July 13, 2012

Going, Going, Gone

Throughout Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut has often used one certain motif over and over again. At first, I thought it was Vonnegut just being a unique author with its constant recurrence, and he didn't feel the need to continue talking about the given topics. However, I now realize just what the significance behind the phrase actually is. I'm just slightly embarrassed that it took me until now just to realize what it meant. The phrase I'm referring to here is, of course, "So it goes."
I finally realized the significance of this phrase in Chapter 6 on page 140 after it was mentioned in the quote from Paul Lazzaro, "'And he'll pull out a gun and shoot his pecker off. The stranger'll let him think a couple of seconds about who Paul Lazzaro is and what life's gonna be like without a pecker. Then he'll shoot him once in the guts and walk away.' So it goes."
After reading that quote, it all started making sense. Vonnegut has been using "So it goes" throughout SH-5 to follow deaths throughout the book. This is Vonnegut's way of saying "There goes another life." Billy heard this phrase from the Tralfamadorians, who all view death as just another point in one's life. Death is not escapable; instead, every person's life just comes and goes.
After making my slowly processed realization that "So it goes" has a purpose, and just what that purpose is of signifying death, I continued to read the chapter and discovered my realization seems to be spot on. Here are a few more examples of "So it goes" throughout Chapter 6:
  • "'In the war?' said Lazzaro. 'Yeah- I had a friend in the war. He's dead.' So it goes" (141). Yup, that fits my "So it goes" realization.
  • "The United States of America has been Balkanized, has been divided into twenty petty nations so that it will never again be a threat to world peace. Chicago has been hydrogen-bombed by angry Chinamen. So it goes. It is all brand new" (142). If there was any doubt that a hydrogen bomb would entail at least a few deaths, the doubt has cleared with Vonnegut's remark of "So it goes." Yup, more death. (I wonder if the Cubs would win the World Series in that "brand new Chicago"... Yeah, I know, probably not, but I can dream.)
  • "It is aimed at him from the darkened press box. In the next moment, Billy Pilgrim is dead. So it goes" (143). Death? Check. So it goes? Check.
Those are just 3 examples of the connection between "So it goes" and perishing. There are more examples of "So it goes" in the book and the chapter, but I'm too lazy to type them all out it would be too long of a list. I'm almost 100% certain that all of the rest of the examples also follow death, dying, or disease of some sort, so I'll leave the list at its current length.
I'm just really surprised it took me so long to realize the connection between "So it goes" and death. However, since I have now finally realized the connection, I will certainly continue to look for more connections as the story goes on.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Oh, the Irony


Irony. This food cart is a perfect example of it. See the irony yet? Keep looking. Its there [sic].
In Chapter 6 of Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut provides his best example thus far of situational irony. With the quote from Edgar Derby to his wife of: "Dear Margaret- We are leaving for Dresden today. Don't worry. It will never be bombed. It is an open city" on page 147,Vonnegut ironically hints the reader the exact opposite of what will happen. He knows Dresden will be bombed. Billy Pilgrim, in future flashbacks of his life, knows Dresden will be bombed. Even the reader knows (at this point in the book) that Dresden will be bombed.
The situational irony in the statement from Derby to his wife alerts the reader to the upcoming climax of SH-5: the inevitable Dresden bombing. Vonnegut has been hinting at this event since Chapter 1, but now the picture seems less and less fuzzy. We (the readers) know the bombing is coming and will undoubtedly shake up the rest of the plot. Now it seems as though Vonnegut will somehow manage to transform the bombing into a humorous, comical epicenter of SH-5.
We, as the readers, should have known this was coming. (Uh, what am I saying, we do know it's coming.) Vonnegut has been throwing his humor throughout his book, so it only makes sense that he will convey humor from such a tragic event in history. Somehow, it took until now for me to realize this. With Derby's ironic "It will never be bombed", it all finally clicked with me. Everyone (except obviously Derby) knows the bombing is coming. Now it's just a matter of when it will happen, and how Vonnegut is able to satirize the bombing. So it goes.

Monday, July 9, 2012

God Save the Queen


Fish and chips. Funny accents. The "Loo". Royal weddings. Those unmovable guards at Buckingham Palace. London 2012. The Barclays English Premier League. Harry Potter.
These are just a few things that come to mind when I think of the "jolly old U.K." However, in Chapter 5, Vonnegut paints a different picture of the British. His image of the men across the pond is  much more respectable than mine. In fact, Vonnegut's portrayal of the British in WWII is completely honorable.
Example:"The Englishmen had also been lifting weights and chinning themselves for years. Their bellies were like washboards. The muscles oftheir calves and upper arms were like cannonballs. They were all masters of checkers and chess and bridge and cribbage and dominoes and anagrams and charades and PIng-Pong and billiards, as well" (Vonnegut, 94).
Amazing. Simply amazing. These British soldiers are everything that a soldier would want to be. Is there anything they aren't exceptional at? (Answer:Yes, basketball.) Vonnegut later goes on to explain that the British are admired by the Germans, so much so that the Germans have provided them with an embarrassment of riches and camps. Wait a second. The Germans adore their warring rivals? Yes, and for good reason.
Vonnegut's portrayal of the Brits is one of "model citizens" and perfection. This has to have a purpose, doesn't it? So what is his purpose? I think Vonnegut's trying to show that the British aren't the people we believe them to be. They should be looked up to for their valiant effort in the war. Vonnegut is attempting to give them credit for their true heroism, and I now agree with him. They should be lauded. Professor Dumbledore, give them a hand:

Saturday, July 7, 2012

A Kite Can't Fly with a Broken String

In chapter 5 of Slaughterhouse-Five, the chapter goes on and on and on for fifty pages with no purpose whatsoever many wild and incredible events occur with Billy Pilgrim. One of these crazy events is found  on pages 96 and 97, when Billy catches on fire after standing too close to a stove. Upon beating out the sparks with his hands without response from Billy, an Englishman comments, "'My God- what have they done to you, lad? This isn't a man. It's a broken kite'" (Vonnegut, 97). Ouch. That hurts. And no, I'm not talking about having one's coat catch on fire. I mean that being metaphorically called a "broken kite" certainly can't make anyone feel particularly great about himself. What the Brit probably means in his metaphor is that due to Billy's unresponsive nature, he assumes that Billy has been tortured or abused so that he is currently mentally gone. (See, "we never assume in geometry", and certainly do not assume in literature either.) The Englishman is stunned to see what has become of this poor Yank. So stunned is he that he later asks, "'Are you really an American?'" (97).
I don't know whether to be proud or offended by that question, but I think he means that he expected much better of Americans than this sore sap of a bump-on-a-log, Billy. Anyways, Billy is metaphorically called a broken kite for this reason: kites can't fly if they're broken; humans can't function without a brain. Vonnegut probably included this metaphor to continue prove that Billy had a really crummy, unbearable experience in the war. Being insulted by his partners in war is yet another notch in The Broken Kite's unfortunate life.