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.

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.

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:

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.

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.

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:

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.