“Thus did a handful of rapacious citizens come to control all that was worth controlling in America. Thus was the savage and stupid and entirely inappropriate and unnecessary and humorless American class system created. Honest, industrious, peaceful citizens were classed as bloodsuckers, if they asked to be paid a living wage. And they saw that praise was reserved henceforth for those who devised means of getting paid enormously for committing crimes against which no laws had been passed. Thus the American dream turned belly up, turned green, bobbed to the scummy surface of cupidity unlimited, filled with gas, went bang in the noonday sun.”

Isn’t it intriguing how a book from 1965, today – half a century later, is still very accurate? In my opinion that says a lot about humanity, doesn’t it?

God bless you, Mr. Rosewater!

It was so much fun to read another book by Vonnegut. I think that's really all I need to say.

It was fun, thought-provoking, and made me laugh.

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater (1965) is another tremendous book by the marvellous Kurt Vonnegut Jr. His point in this satire on inequality and insanity, and which still resonates decades later, is that love and kindness are the most important things we have.

As usual with his novels, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater made me think, made me laugh, bowled me over with its imagination, and its quiet profundity.

God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut.

4/5



God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater (1965), also known as Pearls Before Swine, a satirical novel by American author Kurt Vonnegut Jr., centers on the escapades of multimillionaire Eliot Rosewater, who develops a social conscience after suffering a wartime trauma and initiates a radical plan to redistribute his wealth to help the nation's poor. So foreign is this concept that society views Eliot as insane—all the way up to the point that he proves them right.

The novel opens with a discussion of its most important "character": the $87 million that is the Rosewater fortune. Eliot's father is the high-profile senator Lister Rosewater. Born a son of great privilege, Lister earned a Ph.D. in international law before embarking on a blazing career in politics. The Rosewaters have long viewed ambition and wealth as essential ingredients for a successful life. Until Eliot, that is.

I first came across ‘Rosewater’ while rummaging through a Woolworth’s book clearance sale as a teenager in the late 60s, and I fell in love with it. That meeting led to a long love affair with Vonnegut’s books in which I would take the train into town on the first day of each book, buy the hardback, and head to the nearest park to devour it in one sitting. Reading ‘Rosewater” after all these years, and the same probably goes for most of Vonnegut’s novels I have read recently, I was really disappointed. Back then, it seemed like it was hitting out at capitalism, or wealth distribution, and all the ills of the world, but now it feels like a cursory glance in that direction, a shallow slap, and just a platform for his zany characters to make jokes about ‘body hair’ and ‘balls of shit’. Yeah I get why people love his work, and I have no right to suggest that ‘Rosewater’ is not a good example of it. It just doesn’t do it for me anymore.

--art by KV

Good book but not one of my Vonnegut favorites. The writing was fine and entertaining, and I didn’t mind that the story is quite episodic and, typical for Vonnegut, non-linear. For me though, the novel relies too much on back story, at the expense of a dramatic plot in the present story. An antagonist who would have been ideal to drive the dramatic conflict is introduced in the opening pages: Norman Mushari, a young lawyer who intends to have Rosewater declared insane, and install a lackey, a relative of Rosewater, as his replacement in the foundation, so the lawyer can siphon off some of the foundation’s riches. Because most of the opening chapter is devoted to this character, we (or I, anyway) naturally assume he will be a major character and Eliot’s nemesis. But he largely falls into the background, appearing only briefly here and there. As I said, most of the novel is back story (literally the history of the two Rosewaters’ descendants and of a few minor characters as well). There is also much space given to Eliot Rosewater demonstrating that the lawyer is evidently correct, that Rosewater is insane (or highly eccentric anyway), someone who loves Kilgore Trout’s sci-fi more than society thinks a rich man “should”, and finds fault in capitalism more than society thinks he “should”. These scenes are entertaining for sure, but it seems it would be far more involving if there were more of a conflict, something at stake for the protagonist, Eliot Rosewater, in the present story, such as say, tangling with the lawyer who is trying to depose him?

(Along with old favorite Slaughter House 5, of course) a much better Vonnegut is Mother Night, which I read for the first time this year. 5 stars. It's great! https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...


Quotes:
“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”

The preceding quote, or excerpts from it, is repeated many times in the GR quotes for this book. I could find, however, no mention of the following quote, so I’ve written in verbatim and will add it to the library. Vonnegut at his best, drawing from his singular life experience, enduring the WWII firebombing of Dresden:

“Eliot, rising from his seat in the bus, beheld the firestorm of Indianapolis. He was awed by the majesty of the column of fire, which was at least eight miles in diameter and fifty miles high. The boundaries of the column seemed absolutely sharp and unwavering, as though made of glass. Within the boundaries, helixes of dull red embers turned in stately harmony about an inner core of white. The white seemed holy.”

Neanche se l’avessi fatto apposta avrei potuto scegliere una lettura più adatta al momento che stiamo vivendo. Uno scrittore come Vonnegut, che ha scritto sulla guerra parole indimenticabili (cfr. “Mattatoio n. 5”) come
“Non c'è nulla di intelligente da dire su un massacro. Si suppone che tutti siano morti, e non abbiano più niente da dire o da pretendere. Dopo un massacro tutto dovrebbe tacere, e infatti tutto tace, sempre, tranne gli uccelli. E gli uccelli cosa dicono? Tutto quello che c'è da dire su un massacro, cose come "Puu-tii-uiit?"
Ho detto ai miei figli che non devono, in nessuna circostanza, partecipare a un massacro, e che le notizie di massacri compiuti tra i nemici non devono riempirli di soddisfazione o di gioia.

Ho anche detto loro di non lavorare per società che fabbricano congegni in grado di provocare massacri, e di esprimere il loro disprezzo per chi pensa che congegni del genere siano necessari."
Oppure come
"E' un libro contro la guerra?"-"Si,"dissi, "credo.""Sa cosa rispondo quando uno mi dice che sta scrivendo un libro contro la guerra? Dico: perchè non scrive un libro contro i ghiacciai allora?" Quello che voleva dire, naturalmente, era che ci saranno sempre guerre, che impedire una guerra è facile come fermare un ghiacciaio. E lo credo anch'io.”
Da quanto riportato si comprende un poco lo stile dello scrittore: ironico, schietto, dissacrante, superficialmente semplice ma molto profondo. Ugualmente accade in questo breve romanzo, che inserirei tra i capolavori di Vonnegut insieme a Mattatoio n. 5. La sua attenzione è rivolta sempre a tematiche sociali, in questo caso alla realtà economico-sociale americana post seconda guerra mondiale (ma vale anche oggi, tanto è attuale), in cui la discriminazione tra i miliardari che si sono trovati patrimoni in mano senza neanche sapere come, quale è il nostro Eliot Rosewater, protagonista del romanzo, e il resto della popolazione “normale”, fatta di persone sofferenti, in difficoltà, malate, disperate e soprattutto sole ed abbandonate a sé stesse è così forte, è così pesante che soltanto in un modo puoi affrontarla: con la pazzia. Solo un pazzo come Eliot può avere il coraggio e la forza di lottare contro ogni forma di razzismo. Ma non è mica la storia di un eroe questa! Lui non combatte, lui non usa la forza, lui non lotta contro nessuno, lui AMA, ama di un “amore indiscriminato” ogni essere umano, Eliot sa DARE AMORE alle persone fregandosene di riceverne. La sua è una lucida follia? Ci sto pensando da tempo, per colpa di Vonnegut.
Non volevo dare 4 stelle per le ultime due pagine che mi hanno lasciato insoddisfatta, mi aspettavo un finale diverso, mi è parso più un accomodamento. Quindi le stelle sono cinque, ma consideratene 4 e mezzo.
Ma, in ogni caso, da lettrice di lunga data, mi permetto di dare un suggerimento: leggete Vonnegut e non ve ne pentirete….

Ciò che più ho apprezzato di questo libro è quanto riesca a scavare in profondità pur restando al tempo stesso una lettura leggera, divertente e scorrevolissima. Tra una risata e un sopracciglio inarcato, c'è ampio spazio per riflessioni niente affatto banali sulle storture della società capitalistica.
Il libro mi sarebbe piaciuto di più se la narrazione non fosse stata così saltellante e piena di parentesi: tali parentesi sono sì utili a dare un quadro più completo di ciò che si sta criticando, perché mostrano altre realtà e punti di vista e conseguenze di una società la cui gerarchia si basa sul denaro e su ciò che si è fatto o non si è fatto per ottenerlo; tuttavia, allontanandosi dal personaggio principale e dalla sua attività, fanno a mio avviso perdere un po' di incisività al tutto.
Tutto che, comunque, mi è piaciuto molto e che sicuramente mi porterà a leggere altro di Vonnegut.

When I was thirteen or fourteen years old I got Slaughterhouse 5 from the library because I had heard good things about Vonnegut. I read it and hated it so much that I said: “I’m never, ever, ever, ever reading anything by this writer again.” And I meant it. Six months later, or maybe it had been a year, I was at the library looking for something to read, and I wasn’t finding anything. I came across this book by Vonnegut. It was the Icelandic translation, and it had such a comic cover that I said to myself: Okay Vonnegut, I’m giving you one more chance, but if this is bad I’m never, ever, ever, ever, EVER reading anything by you again” And I meant it. Long story short, I loved it so much that I went on to read everything Vonnegut had ever published, some of it, including both Slaughterhouse 5, and this one, multiple times. I think this is the fifth time I’ve read God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, but I may be wrong.

It is the story of Eliot Rosewater, an alcoholic with very little talent for anything, but is born into a family of old money. He’s got a trust fund that means he doesn’t have to work, and still have a great pile of money. Being a slightly odd individual he has come to reside over a fire station in the small town of Rosewater from where he gives people that need it money and advice. But mostly he drinks. This bugs his father the senator, and he tries to intervene. In the background a lawyer is working to relieve Eliot of his money.

What originally got me about this book was the humor. Unlike with that first reading of Slaughterhouse 5 I got the humor of this the first time around. If I would have been on goodreads at that time I would have gushed on and on about it in the longest possible review. I’m a bit older now, and I’ve read it a few more times, and I notice the flaws that I didn’t the first time around. It’s not perfect, and there are certain things in it that don’t age so gracefully, for example the way he portrays his female characters. And yet, I still like it very much, because what he does well here, he does really well.

It is a satire that deals with money, and the class system. By putting Rosewater in that little flat over the fire station, but still with access to all that money, Vonnegut places him right in the middle of money vs. lack of money. He doesn’t really fit in with either group which one sees at the end where all of this is coming to an end. People from neither group can really reach him. In some sense he’s above it all. Listen:

“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”

This is Eliot Rosewater’s speech as he gives a few babies names, so he takes on the role of a priest or something like that and despite the fact that Eliot is seen as a bumbling idiot by many in this novel, someone that doesn’t fit into his role as a rich man, as someone that should be important because of all his money but isn’t, this is actually good advice. And that is really it. There is a lot of interesting thoughts about money, about its role in society, and how ridiculous it can make people behave in this novel. Vonnegut doesn’t preach, but he uses satire to explore a lot of things about money here. And he does that well.

So well that I’m probably going to read this again, despite the flaws I see. 10 years from now? Maybe.

"The problem is this: How to love people who have no use?
In time, almost all men and women will become worthless as producers of goods, food, services, and more machines, as sources of practical ideas in the areas of economics, engineering, and probably medicine, too. So - if we can't find reasons and methods for treasuring human beings because they are -human beings- then we might as well, as has so often been suggested, rub them out."

After reading a handful of Vonnegut books, I can safely say this is the book anyone, who wants to try his books, would want to start with. Brilliant!

Elliot Rosewater is the heir to the Rosewater trust whose misplaced sense of philanthropy wants him to love every person in his city. He is a volunteer fireman, a suicide helpline attender who is impervious to the fuss of staying rich. There are quite a few strong arguments for distribution of wealth, but more of loving all people. Where money is involved, you have lawyers and a particularly cunning one Norman Mushari is out to put an end to this nonsense.

And so we have Norman Mushari trying to prove Elliot Rosewater is insane (does not have kids either) and hence the trust should be inherited by a distant cousin - Frank Rosewater who is an insurance sales guy on the verge of ending his life. Elliot with his father, Senator Rosewater, doctor and a sci-fi author Kiligore Trout are on one side.

The book is one of the openly hilarious reads which touches a chord. In one of the most touching scenes, we see a moment of genuine happiness shared between a fisherman and his sons only to be told in the next chapter that they are bankrupt. Questions are asked of the correlation between money and happiness.

Or the suicide helpline where Elliot offers money to anybody who calls to live just one more week. We also meet Kiligore Trout and read his famous book 2BR02B on an automated world (chillingly close to reality). The book is filled with pluses!

"Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” "

I finished the book and felt so much love for people in general. I would have laughed out loud at least once every 10 pages. This is a Perfect book.

Highly recommended!

"Puu-tii-uiit?"

Caro Kurt,
"Puu-tii-uiit?"
ogni tuo libro è sempre una nuova straordinaria avventura, anche se le tue argomentazioni girano sempre sulla Seconda Guerra Mondiale, in particolar modo il bombardamento di Dresda, evento traumatico della tua vita e che ne ha pregiudicato tutto il prosieguo, l'humour particolare, fatto dalla satira politica, sociale, alla "semplice"allegoria di una società in decadenza di valori e di sentimenti, riesci a creare sempre quell'atmosfera particolare, (difficile da spiegare) mi sembra di leggere un libro scritto dal mio migliore amico, che è lì apposta per raccontarti qualcosa per tirarti su il morale, ma non qualcosa di banale, posticcio che risulterebbe nauseante, invece che d'aiuto. Ed invece tu racconti della società in declino con un tatto senza precedenti, le punte malinconiche non mancano mai e come potrebbero...
"Puu-tii-uiit?"
Perle ai porci racconta di Eliot Rosewater, plurimiliardario che si stufa di ciò e "adotta" una cittadina sperduta, dimenticata, popolata da gente dimenticata, intanto legge i libri del suo autore preferito (di fantascienza), Kilgore Trout e...
"Puu-tii-uiit?"
"Sai..." disse Eliot, "una volta Kilgore Trout ha scritto un libro intero su un paese impegnato nella lotta contro gli odori. Era la missione nazionale. Non c'erano malattie, e non c'era criminalità, e non c'erano guerre, così correvano dietro agli odori." [...] La voce di Eliot era tagliente mentre lui insisteva a raccontare la storia di Trout, che si intitolava Ehi, dico, ma lo senti quest'odore?
"Questo paese," disse Eliot, "aveva immensi programmi di ricerca finalizzati alla lotta contro gli odori. Erano finanziati da contributi individuali raccolti dalle madri che la domenica marciavano di casa in casa. L'ideale delle ricerche era trovare uno specifico deodorante chimico per ogni odore. Ma poi il protagonista del romanzo, che era anche il dittatore del paese, fece una straordinaria scoperta scientifica, anche se non era uno scienziato, e non ebbero più bisogno di tutti quei problemi. Andava dritto alla radice del problema, lui."
"Uh uh", disse il senatore, Non poteva soffrire le storie di Kilgore Trout, si sentiva in imbarazzo per suo figlio. "Trovò un prodotto chimico che eliminava tutti gli odori?" suggeri, per sollecitare la conclusione della storia.
"No. Come dicevo, il protagonista era un dittatore, e non fece altro che eliminare i nasi."
"Puu-tii-uiit?"
Come amare la gente che non serve a nulla?
Col tempo, quasi tutti gli uomini e le donne diventeranno inutili come produttori di merci, generi alimentari, servizi e altre macchine, come fonti di idee pratiche nei campi dell'economia, della tecnica e forse anche della medicina. Così... se non riusciamo a trovare delle ragioni e dei metodi per far tesoro degli esseri umani in quanto esseri umani, tanto varrebbe, com'è stato suggerito così spesso, cancellarli dalla faccia della Terra."
"Puu-tii-uiit?"

Oh, Kurt Vonnegut, how I’ve missed you.

Vonnegut has been one of my favorite authors since I read Cat’s Cradle (Stop what you are doing. Go read it!) over a decade ago. Although I’ve been slowly working my way through his entire catalogue, it’s been a few years since I’ve read him. When I picked up God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, there was a moment of anxiety. What if I’m wrong? What if I’ve changed? What if Vonnegut is no longer one of my favorites? I’m happy to report that my worries were for naught! I’m still very much in love.

“The problem is this: How to love people who have no use? In time, almost all men and women will become worthless as producers of goods, food, services, and more machines, as sources of practical ideas in the areas of economics, engineering, and probably medicine, too. So—if we can’t find reasons and methods for treasuring human being because they are human beings, then we might as well, as has so often been suggested, rub them out.”

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater is a dark satire about America and the American Dream. Vonnegut uses Eliot Rosewater to discuss capitalism, inherited wealth, greed, poverty, automation, charity and compassion. In an America where the top 1% have almost the same amount of wealth as the bottom 90% and more and more workers are being laid off due to automation, God Bless You Mr. Rosewater may be even more relevant than when it was originally published in 1965.

This novel is a fast, funny read with deep insights into human nature. Vonnegut’s plots never follow a straight line, so be prepared for a winding, wild ride!

“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of babies—: God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”

Vonnegut has written some of my favorite novels of all time, namely Mother Night, The Sirens of Titan, and Cat's Cradle; they all come across as genius with unexpected twists and cogent insights. There was just something missing in this book as relates to that vein thus it only pulls a couple of stars. I kept finding myself putting it down and had trouble coming back to it. Just not as interesting as the other stuff I was reading simultaneously.