Tot ce-am putut reciti ieri și în dimineața asta a fost, bineînțeles, Abatorul cinci. Așa merg lucrurile, So it goes.

Romanul s-a publicat mai întîi în 1969 la Delacorte Press (Dell Publishing). A fost lăudat. Inclusiv în The New York Times din 31 martie 1969. Nominalizat la două premii importante: Nebula Award și Hugo Award. N-a luat, firește, nici unul. Așa merg lucrurile, So it goes. Ursula K. Le Guin a fost socotită de critici o prozatoare mai importantă decît Vonnegut.

În sintagme ce s-au banalizat de mult, romanul reprezintă o „satiră”, o „comedie neagră”, ceea ce și este. Două voci (a Naratorului și a lui Billy Pilgrim) spun una și aceeași poveste: bombardarea de către armatele aliate a Dresdei (13 - 15 februarie 1945) și consecințele ei (terestre și mintale).

Un pasaj vestit:

„Billy agăţase pe unul din pereţii cabinetului său textul înrămat al unei rugăciuni, care exprima metoda sa de supravieţuire, în ciuda faptului că el unul nu punea mare preţ pe viaţă… Şi iată ce scria acolo:
Să-mi dea Domnul
puterea de-a accepta ce nu pot schimba,
curajul de-a schimba ce pot şi
înţelepciunea de-a pricepe ce pot şi ce nu pot.
Printre lucrurile pe care Billy Pilgrim nu le putea schimba se numărau trecutul, prezentul şi viitorul”.

"There is no beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time."

2.5 ⭐'s

n  Initial Thoughts n

Kurt Vonnegut has to be one of the most famous writers that I've never read. So I finally decided to do something about that and jump on in to his world with his most famous novel...Slaughterhouse-Five. It's been part of my 'Want to Read' list for what seems like forever, and I can't be having that now can I?

I knew pretty much nothing about it going in, other than it focuses on the second world war and has an element of time travel. Written in 1969 at the time of the Vietnam War, it proved extremely topical at the time. But will it stand up in today's world? Only one way to find out and that's...

...read the damn book! Let's go!

n  The Story n

Slaughterhouse-Five is the story of Billy Pilgrim's life and centres around his involvement in the Second World War. The main focus being the bombing of Dresden and his experience surrounding that awful event. The opening chapter explains how the author is having a stab at writing his book about it. That's the framing device.



What then follows is a bizarre and fantastically weird story of Billy Pilgrim's adventures through time and space. Although the focus is war, the story itself is about the central character's life and the narrative jumps about to various points and takes the reader to some very strange places. It certainly was not what I expected...but was that a bad thing?

n  The Writing n

I try going into a book with a open mind and started off enjoying the novelty of Vonnegut's style. He's got a witty and sometimes dark sense of humour, so it goes, and although nothing flash his prose are pretty engaging. But here's the thing, the structure he uses is a touch bizarre with a choppy feel that started to get on my nerves. And you don't want to do that.

Im not going to lie, the premise is not that well put together. I was hoping for a story that really got into Dresden during the war. BUT Vonnegut kept switching about all over the place. To the point where it started to loose me and I was finding better things to do than read this book. Like looking at photos of my ex on Facebook...why do I do this to myself?

n  The Characters n

I don't think this author is bad when it comes to character development. But I
did not like the main character, Billy Pilgrim. I know main characters don't have to be liked to make a good story , but it definitely helps.



I was never sure what was going on with Billy. Is he really abducted by aliens or is he just suffering from mental health issues and hallucinating? It never really becomes clear. That's intentional. But mix that with the choppy narrative structure and it's a bit much.

He also comes across as slightly pathetic. Never truly in control of his life. You know what I mean. A bit of a looser. And this made it difficult for me to empathise with him.

n  Final Thoughts n

So was Slaughterhouse Five the Earth shattering book it was cracked up to be. Not f'in way!! Seriously though, I can understand why people like it. It's all about the message and style. But I want a good story at the very least. And I never really got it. It's just too messed up and all over the place.

Yes, some of my dissapointment can be put down to high expectations. But that's the way it is unfortunately. Will I read anything else by Vonnegut? Most probably. Everyone deserves a second chance. Apart from my ex. She can do one! But enough about that. I'm not bitter...honestly. On to the next book.

Thanks for reading and...cheers!

„И двамата се опитваха да намерят отново себе си и своя свят. Научната фантастика им помагаше много в това.“


„Кланица пет“ е една от най-великите антивоенни книги! Вонегът е изградил незабравима история, преплитайки брутален реалистичен разказ за част от втората световна война с вълнуващи научнофантастични елементи. В краткия обем на творбата, той е вложил стойностни общочовешки послания. Книгата пренася читателите в завладяваща атмосфера, въпреки че навява и доста тъга...

Били Пилгрим е ветеран от войната, който е преживял ужасите в Дрезден. Същевременно му се случва често и неусетно да пътува във времето, а към даден момент среща извънземните от Тралфамадор. От неговата гледна точка ставаме свидетели на жестоката военна действителност, както и тягостния следвоенен начин на живот. Фантастичните перипетии на главния герой и приятната ирония на Вонегът майсторски допълват мрачната история, за да се получи този чудесен роман!






„Струваше ми се, че най-добрите ветерани в Скънектъди, хора добродушни, с най-голямо чувство за хумор, ветерани, които най-много мразеха войната, бяха онези, които наистина бяха воювали.“


„Давам ти честна дума обаче, че ако някога завърша книгата, в нея няма да има роли за Франк Cинатра и Джон Уейн. И знаеш ли какво - добавих, ще нарека книгата „Кръстоносният поход на децата“.
От този момент с нея станахме приятели.“


„-Колко типично землянски въпрос задавате, господин Пилгрим. Защо вас? А защо тогава ние? Защо каквото и да е? Просто защото моментът е. Виждали ли сте някога буболечка, попаднала в кехлибар?
- Да.
Всъщност в кабинета си Били имаше преспапие, кoетo пpeдставляваше гладка кехлибарена тoпкa c калинки .
- И ето ни и нас, господин Пилгрим, хванати в кехлибара на момента. Тук думата „защо“ не съществува.“


„На Тралфамадор няма телеграми. Но вие сте прав: всяко струпване на символи е кратко настойчиво съобщение, което описва дадена ситуация, дадена сцена. Ние, тралфамадорците, ги четем наведнъж, а не една след друга. Няма никаква специална връзка между отделните съобщения, но авторът така ги е подбрал, че видени всичките наведнъж, те обрисуват един красив, изненадващ и дълбок живот, но няма поука, няма причини, няма следствия. Онова, което четем в нашите книги, е дълбочината на много прекрасни моменти, видени едновременно.“


„Попита го дали иска да му донесе нещо отвън и той каза:
- Не, имам си всичко.
- А книги? - поинтересува се Валенсия.
- До мен се намира една от най-големите частни библиотеки в света - обясни Били, имайки предвид колекцията от научна фантастика на Елиът Роузуотър.“


„Гостът от космоса проучил сериозно християнството, за да разбере, ако въобще може, защо за християните е толкова лесно да бъдат жестоки. Стигнал до заключението, че поне отчасти това се дължи на небрежното изложение в Новия завет. Предположил, че намерението на евангелието било да научи хората освен всичко друго да бъдат и милосърдни, даже към най-низшите от низшите.
Но евангелието всъщност проповядвало следното:
„Преди да убиеш някого, трябва да бъдеш абсолютно сигурен, че той няма връзки с големци“. Taкa e тo.“


„В края на краищата повечето от романите на Траут се занимава��а с въпроса за изкривяванията на времето, с извънсетивни усещания и с други неочаквани неща. Траут вярваше в такива работи и ламтеше съществуването им да бъде потвърдено.“


„Там, в болницата, Били преживя нещо много обикновено за хора без власт по време на война: опитваше се да докаже на един умишлено глух и сляп враг, че си струва да го видят и чуят.“


„На обратната страна на медальона бяха гравирани следните думи:
Господи, дари ме
със спокойствието да приема
нещата, които не мога да променя,
със смелостта да променя нещата,
които мога, и с мъдростта
винаги да мога да разбера
разликата между
двете.“

"Such things" is the author's refrain stating someone's death in the novel. Men, women, children, dogs, pigs in the slaughterhouse or tens of thousands of dead during the Dresden bombing. In a small volume, the phrase sounds one hundred and six times. I didn't remember it from the first reading twenty years ago. In general, I didn't remember much, except for the feeling - a very strong and completely my book. Neither the plot, nor, by and large, the characters. Someone flew with aliens, the bombing of Dresden, the prisoner of war camp, the story of the children's Crusade.

Такие дела
"Такие дела" - авторский рефрен, констатирующий чью-либо смерть в романе. Мужчины, женщины, ребенка, собаки, свиньи на бойне или десятков тысяч погибших во время дрезденской бомбардировки. В небольшом объеме фраза звучит сто шесть раз. Не запомнилось с первого чтения двадцать лет назад. Вообще мало что запомнила, кроме ощущения - очень сильная и совершенно моя книга. Ни сюжета, ни, по большому счету, героев. Кто-то летал с инопланетянами, бомбардировка Дрездена, лагерь военнопленных, история о Крестовом походе детей.

С начала лета все хотела перечитать, все откладывая. Еще об одном забыла напрочь. Или не было этого в первый раз. Эмоциональная привязка. Не к герою даже, который слишком нескладен и неуклюж для этого в бытовом, обыденном смысле и слишком, недосягаемо хорош в человеческом. К самому действию, к рассказу, к жизни, взятой, как череда бесконечно длящихся мгновений, из которых имеет смысл сосредотачиваться на хороших. Но прожить и пройти нужно все. Как иначе сумеешь отличить хорошие от плохих?

Так вот, эмоциональное ценю, грешна. Каким бы пиршеством интеллекта ни одарил автор, какую бы сложносочиненную интригу ни сплел, какими новаторскими приемами не тщился поразить воображение, если книга напугала до вздыбленных на спине рудиментарных волосков. Или рассмешила до состояния "кататьсяпополу". Или заставила плакать. Запомнится она надолго и качественно иначе. Вот ведь какие дела, не помню из первого чтения особых эмоций.

Может оттого, что была тогда вдвое моложе или чуть глупее, или не могла интегрировать в себя авторского взгляда на жизнь, как череду вещей, происходящих одновременно. Как не видела в Билли Пилигриме (ах, говорящее имя!) ничего, кроме бытовой неприспособленности и нелепости. В этот раз все смеялась. И плакала. По-настоящему, слезами, от которых глаза сегодня припухли и выгляжу не очень, несмотря на великое благо мейк-апа. И плакала, смеясь. И смеялась, плача. Такой оксюморон.

Потому что нельзя ведь не рассмеяться. представив себе героя, в опорках и одетого в махонькое пальтецо с чужого, переставшего физически быть, плеча (о чем красноречиво свидетельствуют пулевые отверстия и бурые пятна), которое тут же расползается на нескладной его фигуре совсем иначе распределяя по ней детали кроя. А за пару минут до того нельзя не разреветься видя прибытие состава с военнопленными в концлагерь. В котором люди низведены до жидкого состояния.

Или девочки-беженки в душевой на дрезденской бойне, куда по незнанию приводит вместо кухблока конвоируемых пленных мальчишка немецкий солдат. Клубы пара, визжащая голая толпа в раздвинутых внезапно дверях, ошеломенное оторопевшее, но и жадное смотрение. Смешно. И авторская ремарка о том, что эти девочки сгорят завтра заживо в подвале бомбоубежища. Которое не спасет от такой силы бомбардировки. И близкие еще слезы снова подступают.

А история двух землян, выставленных инопланетянами голыми же в подобии зоопарка, дабы совокупились, не смешит вовсе. И возмущения не вызывает. Но жаркую щемящую нежность. Умеет автор рассказать. И умеет протянуть нити. От всего ко всему. Говард Кэмпбелл младший из его же "Мать Тьма" появляется здесь. И воин-маори из австралийских союзнических войск, изображенный на главной картине героем "Синей бороды". А шире, что ж, можно и шире. Герой моей любимой книги все время повторяет : "Такова структура момента". Пан, "Иное небо", Лазарчук.

И так уж хороша эта фраза или такой родной показалась, что не умея даже определить, откуда, повторяю ее последние восемнадцать лет за ним, даже и в обращение введя среди своих. Отсюда, из "Бойни". Как отсюда же пересказанная на страницах этой книги апокрифическая история об Иисусе и Иосифе, которым римские солдаты заказывают крест для распятия по сложному чертежу. Они плотничали, если кто забыл. И делают, отчего не сделать, заказ как заказ.

Я не очень умею объяснить, но суть здесь не в том, чтобы прежде, чем распнуть кого-то, посмотреть - нет ли у него влиятельной родни. Суть - все со всем связано и существование есть такого рода непрерывность. И для него необходимы самые разные, на первый взгляд ненужные, вещи. На второй и на третий тоже. Увидеть их можно только долго и пристально вглядываясь. Но когда и если берешь на себя труд вглядеться имеешь шанс научиться такому, что качественно на порядок улучшит жизнь. Такие дела.

Every so often you read a book, a book that takes everything you thought created an excellent novel and tears it to pieces; it then sets it on fire and throws it out the window in a display of pure individual brilliance. That is how I felt when I read this jumbled and absurd, yet fantastic, novel.

The book has no structure or at the very least a perceivable one: it’s all over the place. But, it works so well. It cements the book’s message and purpose underlining its meaning. Indeed, this book is an anti-war novel, which is asserted (in part) through its random and confusing organisation. The story is “jumbled and jangled” such as the meaning of war. It appears pointless to the reader, again alluding to the meaning of war. It also suggests that after the war a soldier’s life is in ruins and has no clear direction, which can be seen with the sad case of Billy Pilgrim. So it goes.

Billy Pilgrim is a poor tortured soul who after the fire-bombing of Dresden is in a state of flux. His mind cannot remain in the present and darts back and forth in time like the narrative. He was never the most assertive of men, and after the war became a shadow of his already meek self. The war has left him delusional, which is manifested by his abduction by aliens. This may or may not have happened. Vonnegut leaves it up to the reader to decide. What decision they make effects what genre the novel belongs to.

Is it science fiction?

If Billy was abducted by aliens then this is sci-fi, but if it is a figment of his imagination then this becomes something much deeper. It’s up to the reader how they interpret it, but I personally believe that he wasn’t abducted. I think he made it up, unconsciously, as a coping strategy for the effects of war, and that the author has used it as a tool to raise questions of the futility of free will, but more importantly to further establish the anti-war theme.

Vonnegut draws on a multitude of sources to establish this further, such as the presidential address of Truman. He ironically suggests that the A-bomb, whilst devastating, is no worse than ordinary war; he points out the fact that the fire-bombing of Dresden killed more than the nuking of Hiroshima. Through this he uses Billy Pilgrim’s life as a metaphor for what war for the effects of war on the human state.

So it goes.

Vonnegut himself is a character within the narrative as the life of Billy Pilgrim is, in part, an autobiographical statement. The narrator addresses the reader and informs them of this. He tells them that this all happened more or less. This establishes the black humour towards war and the inconsequential deaths of those that are in it. Hence the motif “so it goes” at each, and every, mention of death whether large or small. He ends the book on the line “poo-te-weet.” He even tells the reader he is going to do this, but at the same time demonstrates that there is nothing intelligible to be said about war.

I warn you, if you’ve not read this, it is one of the most bizarre books you will ever read. The main character time travels, in his mind, and has no real present state. The narrative initially appears random and completely confusing. But, once you reach the end you’ll see this book for what it is: the most individual, and unique, statement against war that will ever be written.

_________________________________

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The Florence of the Elbe

Kurt Vonnegut tells us in an epigraph, “This is a novel somewhat in the telegraphic schizophrenic manner of tales of the planet Tralfamadore, where the flying saucers come from. Peace.”

This much is true. Stylistically, it’s unique. It jumps all over the place, not to mention all over time.

The story-telling is cumulative and simultaneous, rather than linear and sequential.

Maybe this is the only appropriate way to tell a story about the firebombing of the open city, Dresden, “the Florence of the Elbe”, in which up to 135,000 Hansels and Gretels (mostly civilians) lost their lives or had them taken away (wiki records that the figure has been revised to 25,000).

The “historian” David Irving seemed to promote the higher figure, not out of sympathy with the civilians, but in an attempt to establish a moral equivalence with the Holocaust. Even the facts are schizophrenic.

However, the precise number is not really relevant to the morality of the act. It was still a horror, whether or not the motive was to end the war and reduce further killing.




Dresden Frauenkirche after the bombing


"God Willing"

The War was a playground where the evil in humanity was unleashed. Religious people are entitled to ask, where was God?

God doesn’t seem to be present in Vonnegut’s narrative. Perhaps all that is left of him is the aside, “Somewhere, a big dog barked.”

If you believe that God exists, was he sidelined in the theatre of war? Did he become all bark, and no bite?

On the other hand, if God doesn’t exist, or he remains stolidly neutral, then what hope is there that good will prevail over evil?

Only, perhaps, that good people will somehow prevail over bad people. Or that bad acts (including war crimes) will be punished according to law.

"Accident Will"

Vonnegut’s novel seems to acknowledge the horror, while at the same time revealing some reason for optimism.

In a delightful malapropism, the German cab driver, Gerhard Muller, to whom the novel is dedicated, says, "I hope that we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxi cab if the accident will."

Instead of meeting again, “God willing”, he struggles for a suitable non-theistic alternative. If "Fate permitting" is too theistic or determinist, what can you call it, other than [an] “accident”? If there is nobody who can mean it to happen, how can it be meant to happen?

Billy Pilgrim's Progress

Throughout the novel, the chief protagonist, Billy Pilgrim, a Joe Average, makes some sort of progress of his own, beyond Dresden and the War. He comes to realise that real life smells like both “mustard gas and roses”.

Vonnegut relies on the devices of science fiction as the foundation of his story and as the basis for hope.

It’s almost as if there is a continuum of science, science fiction, fantasy, imagination, superstition and religion from which we have to construct our personal, social, spiritual and literary beliefs and styles.

Vonnegut positions “Slaughterhouse Five” all over this continuum as telegrams about “flying saucers, the negligibility of death and the true nature of time.”

Unstuck in Time

Even before the bombing, Billy Pilgrim comes “unstuck in time.”

Not only does this describe his experience of the world, it bonds him with the Tralfamadorians who kidnap him and return him by flying saucer to a zoo on their planet.

During these segments, the novel takes on the tone of “Gulliver’s Travels”, only it’s more apparent that Billy is learning about himself and humanity by observing and listening to the Tralfamadorians.

The big difference is the comprehension of time. For Tralfamadorians, time doesn’t pass, it doesn’t cease, it is never gone. It remains, it stays, in perpetuity, only it is perpetuated both forward and backwards:

"When a person dies, he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past...all moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist...

"It is just an illusion...that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone, it is gone forever.

"When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in bad condition in the particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments.

"Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is ‘So it goes.’”

"So It Goes"

When understood in this context, the expression “So it goes” isn’t just resignation or acceptance of death, it’s actually a celebration of life.

Death doesn’t mean that you have ceased to live. It just means that, in one moment out of many (albeit they are all compressed or sublated into the one moment), you no longer exist, but you still exist in all of the others.

Interestingly, Vonnegut adds to this passage the words “And so on”. Again, it’s a continuum. We’re somewhere on it, we keep on and we keep going on.

Free Billy

When time is collapsed on itself, there is no before and after, and therefore no cause and effect:

"All time is all time. It does not change. It does not lend itself to warnings or explanations. It simply is. Take it moment by moment, and you will find that we are all...bugs in amber.”

Billy Pilgrim adheres to a naïve belief in Free Will, which is evidenced by the framed prayer on his office wall:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom always to tell the difference."

The Tralfamadorians consider this amusing, because Earth is the only place in the universe that believes in Free Will.

Vonnegut reveals:

"Among the things Billy Pilgrim could not change were the past, the present, and the future.”

Determinism

Vonnegut’s view of Determinism is more problematic.

The absence of cause and effect is related to his explanation of time:

"Have you ever seen bugs trapped in amber? Well, here we are...trapped in the moment. There is no why.”

I wonder whether, ironically, this means that Billy Pilgrim was both stuck and unstuck in time!

If there is only one moment, albeit perpetual, the question “why” doesn’t arise. Life is pure existence. It just is. It needn’t be any more complicated than that.

It’s not so much that what is happening or what has happened has been determined from outside.

It’s more that it has already happened, and evidence of its occurrence is contained or preserved in the recorded moment (the amber).

We can’t change the record, because it’s a document, simultaneously, of the coexistence of what humans have come to think of separately as the past, present and future.

What Remains to Be Done?

The Tralfamadorians do say that “every creature and plant in the universe is a machine.”

This is obviously consistent with a level of Determinism, but it’s equally consistent with the view that we have already performed or done everything that could be expected of us.

It’s already happened and it can’t be changed. Even the end of the world, which was caused when somebody presses a button. Billy asks why they can’t stop it being pressed:

"He always pressed it and he always will. We always let him and we always will let him. The moment is structured that way.”

It’s not so much the Determinism, as the nature of Time.

Still, the question remains, is Gerhard’s world of peace and freedom possible? Is there anything we can do about it? Will it happen of its own accord? Has it already happened? Has it already been preserved in amber?

If our attempts to do good might have no effect, should we at least avoid doing evil?

Brief, Urgent Messages in the Telegraphic Schizophrenic Manner

It turns out that the Tralfamadorians have books, “brief clumps of symbols separated by stars”.

"Slaughterhouse Five” is somewhat modeled on them. Perhaps the answers to the above questions are in these books?

"…each clump of symbols is a brief, urgent message - describing a situation, a scene. We Tralfamadorians read them all at once, not one after the other.

"There isn’t any particular relationship between all the messages, except that the author has chosen them carefully, so that, when seen all at once, they produce an image of life that is beautiful and surprising and deep.

"There is no beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects.

"What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time.”

If we humans could think of, and enjoy, life, not just books, as many marvelous moments, all beautiful and surprising and deep, then perhaps there would be no evil. And nothing would hurt. Peace.

And so on.

n  Bulgarian review below/Ревюто на български е по-долуn
‘The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic.’
I heard this expression for the first time from a high school history teacher. We called him the Thug because he looked like a thug. I thought he had made the aforementioned conclusion himself as a historian and I was impressed. Years later I found out I had been very much confused and those were Stalin’s words, for he was more familiar with that kind of stuff… I’m tempted to say ‘So it goes’ but I’ll refrain for now.

You might think of ‘Slaughterhouse Five’ as a tragedy, an anti-war or even a science fiction novel. Once H. was looking for Machiavelli’s ‘The Prince’ in a bookstore and he was asked the very logical question ‘Is this in the sci-fi section?’, so you can never be sure in anything. If you saw pictures of Dresden’s ruins, you would certainly find something fantastical about them. It’s difficult to believe that where there were people and hopes, and life, there are only debris left. Walking in this Moon landscape is enough to leave a hollow in your soul, huge as a lifetime.
‘But sleep would not come. Tears came instead. They seeped.’

Billy Pilgrim is a pilgrim in time – he continues his pilgrimage to those years where his ill-starred consciousness had frozen like the three ladybugs within the amber of his paperweight… I don’t know if Billy Pilgrim is mentally ill. I think he isn’t and he simply saw what the other members of the human race are capable of. If normal people do things like these, maybe it’s better not to be a human. It’s probably not that bad to be a filthy flamingo. Or to be abducted on Tralfamadore. Or just to be a ladybug. When I was in kindergarten there was this little girl who had particular sadistic pleasure while stomping precisely on ladybugs. I got carried away. So it goes. There, I wrote it.
‘There are almost no characters in this story, and almost no dramatic confrontations, because most of the people in it are so sick and so much the listless playthings of enormous forces. One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are discouraged from being characters.’

Some would say the subject of war has been overexposed, slightly worn out and covered many times and the readers don’t quite give two hoots about it. After all WWII was nearly 75 years ago. What’s there to thresh out that much or even about WWI before that? We get it, people suffered. They were scared, they died. Tens, hundreds of thousands died. Statistic says so. The subject have been developed in many books, war films have become increasingly popular over the past few years and you can go to the movies with some popcorn and a coke and watch them in a very civilized manner. Consume, soothe your ego that you’re a vigilant citizen and you feel sorry, but are somehow indifferent to the people dying on the screen, numb several million more neurons to the battling afflictions of some strangers and finally go to bed, oh, it was such a long day and I have to go to work tomorrow. Maybe repeat after some time.

People need emotions to connect. Personal touch. If someone tells us about the wretched life of another person, we cry. If we are shown a battlefield with thousands of corpses, our faces will set in a grim expression at best. The story of Billy Pilgrim is partly the story of Kurt Vonnegut and the emotions in ‘Slaughterhouse Five’ are real. They remind me of the Russian grandmother of a friend who survived through both World Wars (the grandmother, not my friend). When she watched reports on the Iraq War years ago, she cried inconsolably, because she thought WWIII was coming. Because she remembered the fear and the hunger. She remembered the war. I hope that she wasn’t right after all.

Several years ago I was in Dresden. No Moon landscape anymore. It’s Earth landscape and it’s splendid. Charred stone blocks have been weaved into the rounded Baroque body of the Dresden Frauenkirche, which follow you like black reproaching eyes. The black eyes don’t blink and they remember. War is not a statistic. The rest of us are a statistic, we, who consider such events distant and having nothing to do with us. The statistic of dumbfounded numbers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

„Смъртта на един човек е трагедия, смъртта на милиони е статистика.“
За пръв път чух този израз от един учител по история в гимназията. Викахме му Главореза, защото приличаше на главорез. Мислех, че той сам е достигнал до горецитирания извод като историк и бях впечатлена. Години по-късно разбрах, че съществено съм се объркала и това са думи на Сталин, на когото от първа ръка са му били доста по-ясни тия неща… Изкушавам се да добавя „Така е то“, но ще се въздържа засега.

Възможно е да разглеждате „Кланица 5“ като трагедия, като антивоенен роман или дори като фантастика. Веднъж Х. търсил в една книжарница „Владетелят“ на Макиавели и му задали съвсем логичния въпрос „Това при фантастиката ли е?“, така че човек никога не може да е сигурен. А ако сте разглеждали снимки на дрезденските отломки, в тях наистина има нещо фантастично. Трудно е да повярваш, че там, където е имало град и хора, и надежди, и живот, в един момент са останали само развалини. И да вървиш сред този „лунен пейзаж“ е достатъчно да остави зев в душата, дълбок колкото цял живот.
„… сънят не идваше. Вместо него дойдоха сълзите. Те закапаха.“

Били Пилгрим е пилигрим във времето – той непрестанно прави своето поклонение до онези години, където злочестото му съзнание е застинало като трите божи кравички в кехлибара на преспапието му… Не зная дали Били Пилгрим е психично болен. Мисля, че не е и просто е видял на какво са способни останалите членове на човешката раса. Ако нормалните хора правят такива неща, може би е по-добре да не си човек. Вероятно не е чак толкова лошо да си нечисто фламинго. Да си отвлечен на Тралфамадор. Или просто да си божа кравичка. Когато бях в детската градина, имаше едно момиченце, което с особено садистично удоволствие обичаше да мачка именно божи кравички. Отплеснах се. Така е то. Ето, написах го.
„В този разказ няма почти никакви герои, почти никакви драматични колизии, защото повечето хора в него са толкова болни, и защото до голяма степен са безжизнени играчки в ръцете на огромни сили. В края на краищата един от главните резултати на войната е, че човек престава да бъде личност.“

Някой би казал, че темата за войната е преекспонирана, позахабена и въртяна доста пъти и на читателите вече не им дреме особено за нея. Все пак Втората световна война е била преди почти 75 години. Какво толкова има да я нищим, че и оная преди нея. Ясно, на хората им е било зле. Страхували са се, умирали са. Мрели са с десетки, със стотици хиляди. Така казва статистиката. Тематиката е развита в доста книги, военните филми набират популярност през последните години и можеш културно да идеш с пуканки и кòла да си ги гледаш на кино. Да изконсумираш, да си позагладиш егото, че и ти си буден гражданин и ти е мъчно, ама и някак равнодушно за мрящите на екрана, да ти се обезчувствят още няколко милиона неврона към баталните несрети на някакви непознати и да си легнеш накрая, ох, че дълъг ден беше, пък и утре съм на работа.

Ние, хората, имаме нужда от емоции, за да се свързваме. От лично усещане. Ако ни разкажат за нещастния живот на човек, плачем. Ако ни покажат бойно поле с хиляди умрели, в най-добрия случай гледаме мрачно. Историята на Били Пилгрим е отчасти историята на Кърт Вонегът и емоциите в „Кланица 5“ са истински. Те ми напомнят и за бабата рускиня на една моя приятелка, която беше преживяла и двете световни войни (бабата, не приятелката). Когато преди години гледала по телевизията за войната в Ирак, плакала неудържимо, защото си мислела, че идва Трета световна война. Защото помнела страха и глада. Помнела войната. Надявам се все пак да не е била права.


Преди няколко години се разхождах из Дрезден. Пейзажът отдавна вече не е лунен. Земен е и то разкошен. В реконструираното закръглено бароково тяло на Фрауенкирхе са вплетени обгорели камъни, които те следят като черни укорителни очи. Черните очи не мигат и помнят. Войната не е статистика. Тя е масова трагедия. Статистика сме ние останалите, които гледаме на такива събития като далечни и нямащи нищо общо с нас. Статистиката на онемелите числа.

This book was really good, kinda of strange, & the ending was an interesting ending. But all in all I would read more from this author Kurt Vonnegut

I've only just finished this, literally minutes ago - look I had no idea this was going to be nearly so good. When he died last year I read some of his short stories, which were okay, but nothing to write home about. This was something else.

A friend of mine I don't talk to any more by a strange form of mutual agreement / obligation (though, now I’ve worked out how this all works, perhaps we’ve found an alternative means of one way communication?) – was thinking of starting up a science fiction reading group for people who don’t read science fiction. Now, this is exactly the sort of book that would be great for that.

What I liked most about it was that the aliens did not have to be real – there was a bump on the head that could explain much. This is an interesting book and like many interesting books it can be read on many levels.

It is an anti-war story that is both confronting and stunningly well written. I really loved the time travel sequences – how the novel told itself in much the same way that it wanted to explain what fourth dimensional living would be like. The structure of the story is very interesting – brilliantly clever. There is also a lot of very black humour – my favourite kind.

Every time someone dies in the book – and it is about (in part) the bombing of Dresden, so there are plenty of opportunities for people to die – the narrator says, “so it goes”. If you had asked me before reading this if I would have thought this would work as a device I would have said that it definitely would not – that soon it would be a pain in the bum. But I would have been wrong. It was inspired – catching me in much the same way every time and making the deaths more ‘real’ each time. Even when I knew they were coming their iteration was a mantra and one that worked for me in that it did focus my attention. This, even though the stated intention was to do the opposite.

There is, of course, a logical flaw in the aliens seeing all times but making the same mistakes every time which isn’t really covered over by saying all times need to correspond to their inherent structure – but this is a novel and this was not a flaw that annoyed me enough to stop me reading.

This is a humorous book, it is a book that stops you reading and makes you think of the implications of what you are reading. It is a book that is not seeking bland ‘realism’ – at no time is the reader unaware that this is art, rather than ‘life’ (whatever that is) – but this is its power – this is what takes the breath away. What is artifice comments on the real and shows it to as again as new.

I really had not expected this book to be nearly as good as it was. It is one of those books I’ve always known was there, but thought it would be just another science fiction novel. This is anything but ‘just’ anything. A remarkable book I might force my daughters to read.

“Everything is nothing, with a twist.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five



I've read Slaughterhouse-Five several times and I'm still not sure I know exactly how Vonnegut pulls it off. It is primarily a postmodern, anti-war novel. It is an absurd look at war, memory, time, and humanity, but it is also gentle. Its prose emotionally feels (go ahead, pet the emotion) like the tug of the tides, the heaviness of sleep, the seduction of alcohol, the dizziness of love. His prose is simple, but beautiful.

Obviously, part of the brilliance of this novel is born from the reality that Vonnegut is largely playing the notes of his own song (obviously, obscured by an unreliable narrator, time that is unstuck, and generous kidnapping aliens). It is the song of someone who has seen horrible, horrible things but still wants to dance and smile (so a Totentanz?).

Emperor, your sword won't help you out
Sceptre and crown are worthless here
I've taken you by the hand
For you must come to my dance

I had to work very much and very hard
The sweat was running down my skin
I'd like to escape death nonetheless
But here I won't have any luck

It is essentially art pulled out of the tension between despair and hope, grief and celebration, love and death. It is a classic not because it has a message about war, but because it has a message about life. Vonnegut aimed at war and hit everything.

welcome to...SEPTEMBERHOUSE-FIVE.

it's another title + month based pun, it's another classic on my currently reading list, it's another PROJECT LONG CLASSIC installment, a project by which i take on classics i've been procrastinating reading in itty bitty sections to make them seem manageable.

this one isn't long, but i did only add it to my want to read list because i somehow have a bookmark that says "everything was beautiful and nothing hurt" and i feel like a poseur.

so similar in impact.

let's get into it.


CHAPTER 1
i think this book has like 10 chapters, so i'll just read one a day till it's done and call it the world's worst project selection in terms of accuracy.

to be honest i just want an excuse to read it immediately.


CHAPTER 2
"The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just that way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever."

i mean. holy moley.


CHAPTER 3
this book has a character who briefly appears and in his short time with us says that if you're writing an anti-war book, you may as well write an anti-glacier book for how effective it will be. both war and glaciers are here intended as timeless and permanent parts of human life.

with climate change now making glaciers a much more impeachable concept, this statement acts as one of strange and ironic and twisted hope.


CHAPTER 4
"Well, here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of this moment. There is no why."

if i have to get abducted by aliens i hope they're also wise.


CHAPTER 5
it's always fun to see another book you've enjoyed or want to read mentioned in a book you're actively reading and enjoying. like a special guest star appearance.


CHAPTER 6
do you know the meme where a book / movie / tv show / romping good time / limited series / human life has to end when they say the title?

anyway. this book would've just ended.


CHAPTER 7
one of those books where you're like "i could write a whole paper about this" every other page.


CHAPTER 8
this book is somewhat unique in antiwar books for its admission that war is intended to make shells out of heroic people, and that "one of its effects" is to prevent people from being "characters."

it seems there is an impulse to think antiwar media will be more effective if this truth is ignored, but i've never found that to be the case. the most disturbing part of war, after all, is its anti-humanity.


CHAPTER 9
a while back my boyfriend was flipping through my copy of this book and laughed pretty hard, but i didn't ask why because he appeared to be fairly close to the end and i didn't want to be spoiled.

i have to say, i gave him more literary benefit of the doubt than he was entitled to for laughing at what i now realize was a drawing of boobs.


CHAPTER 10
welp.


OVERALL
this book was mind melting and funny and smart and touching and painful, as was realizing that the quote i love so much that it inspired me to read this book is not meant sincerely.

not everything is beautiful. a hell of a lot hurts. we shouldn't respond to death with nonchalance—we should never accept that that's how it has to go, not all of the time, not right then. war is evil, and things mean things, and we should keep life close to us even when it's tempting to release it, to pull your hand back as if from a hot stove.

and the hurting makes the beautiful more beautiful anyway.
rating: 5

A disturbingly comedic (or comically disturbing?) satire of the inevitability of war, the age old fate vs. free will argument, and the gross desensitization of death, Slaughterhouse-Five analyzes the effects of the Bombing of Dresden on World War II veteran Billy Pilgrim. Told in a nonlinear narrative that is common for Vonnegut, this novel employs the rare literary device I like to call “Twilight Zone–ish extraterrestrialism,” which serves to highlight both the absurdity of free will as well as Pilgrim’s sense of temporal confusion resulting from his experiences with war. So it goes.