

Chapter 1 - Autobiography
Vonnegut addresses much of his past, his feelings about the
past and his family, and his own personal convictions throughout
the four books. His past and views will be discussed in, roughly,
their chronological appearance in the books.
Early in Slaughterhouse-Five he reflects on the one great
lesson he learned from his graduate studies in anthropology, and
that is that no one is bad, disgusting, or ridiculous (8). This
view is reflected in his writings, as these novels lack
a villain, which has been noted by critics (Langen Harris 419).
While there are no villains in these books, they are peopled by
characters who are very human, as attested to by the example
Vonnegugives of Lot's wife (22). When she looks back, this act
symbolizes two things for Vonnegut. First, it shows how we are
human in our actions, which Vonnegut loves, and it is also
symbolic of Vonnegut looking back on his own life. In choosing to
use Lot's wife as an example to illuminate these points, Vonnegut
has made a wise decision, for his own life has been marked by
being very human, and by being a personal witness to death, as
shown by his experiences with the deaths of his parents and
sister, and the 135,000 deaths he witnessed in Dresden.
Slaughterhouse-Five is, among other things, Vonnegut's attempt to
come to grips with death. He also applies death to his art when
he quotes from Celine, who said that no art is possible without
a dance with death(Slaughterhouse-Five 21; hereinafter identified
as "SF"). In believing the validity of this statement, Vonnegut
reinforces in his mind that he is an artist, for he definitely
had a dance with death in Dresden, and since his book is a result
of that dance, it must be art. He is correct in both assessments.
A final personal comment Vonnegut makes in
Slaughterhouse-Five concerns his own inner struggles. When Billy
Pilgrim starts crying at his anniversary party when the
barbershop quartet sings "That Old Gang of Mine," he realizes
that somewhere inside of himself he has a big secret, though he
can't imagine what it is (173). Years later when Billy is in
a hospital it is noted that "'All he ever does in his sleep is
quit and surrender and apologize and ask to be left alone'"
(184). Still later, Billy has the urge to laugh, but doesn't
(204). These are all indicative of Vonnegut's own psychological
make-up. He is generally a sad pessimist, as he mentions in
Wampeters, Foma, & Granfallons (162), who is still not at ease
with his past, and he has admitted to having a problem expressing
his emotions (Slapstick 4; hereinafter identified as "S").
Vonnegut gets even more personal in Breakfast of Champions,
and he wastes no time doing it. He admits on the second page that
he makes his living by being impolite. Then he drops hints that
he may not be the most intelligent or stable person around,
though it's not necessarily his fault, because other people have
put the things in his head that don't fit together nicely, that
are useless and ugly, and are out of proportion (5). In an effort
to reorganize his brain by making it as empty as possible,
Vonnegut is using Breakfast of Champions as a catharsis, as an
instrument for throwing out the characters from his other books
(Breakfast of Champions 5; hereinafter identified as "BC"). This
is a lie, of course, as both Slapstick, with a reprise of Norman
Mushari from 1965's God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, and Jailbird,
with the reappearance of Kilgore Trout, proving that Vonnegut has
failed to set his characters free, and also proving that he
hasn't freed himself completely from his past.
Kilgore Trout is one of the focal points of Breakfast of
Champions. He is also a representation of what Vonnegut fears he
himself might become. Early in the book Trout is an unrecognized,
dirty-old-man of a writer who, though he is crying out in the
wilderness, goes unlistened to (15). At the very end of the book
Trout calls out to Vonnegut, who has revealed himself to Trout as
Trout's creator, to make him young again (295). To be young is
something that Vonnegut much desires, for he fears he is coming
to the same conclusion that his parents arrived at, whether it's
going crazy and committing suicide like his mother (BC 181), or
spending his last years in full retreat from life, like his
father. Breakfast of Champions is Vonnegut's fiftieth birthday
present to himself (4-5), and he's come to the realization that
he may be becoming more like his parents than he wants to be
(193).
The other focal point of Breakfast of Champions is Dwayne
Hoover, who is also very much like Vonnegut. Dwayne has a dog
named Sparky that he likes to get down on the floor and roll
around with and talk to (18). Throughout Vonnegut's life this has
been one of his own great joys, to share fun and friendship with
another creature without love ever entering into the equation
(S 2-3). Dwayne takes this even further in his sexual
relationship with his secretary, Francine Pefko. Though they are
lovers, and have been for a while, Dwayne has a pact with
Francine that neither of them are ever to mention love as being
part of their relationship (152). The relationships in
Vonnegut's life that he thinks have been marked by love could
easily be described as being marked by common decency, and love
might not necessarily have had much, if anything, to do with the
relationship (S 2). Vonnegut further states on the same page that
he cannot distinguish between the love he has for dogs and the
love he has for people. The one thing Vonnegut always admired and
adored about Laurel and Hardy (to whom he dedicated Slapstick)
was that love was never at issue with them, but bargaining in
good faith was (S 1-2), for love can be used as an excuse for
doing just about anything, such as fighting or being jealous, but
showing common decency to others will more often result in
a happy ending (S 3).
After the lovemaking and Kentucky Fried Chicken incident in
Breakfast of Champions, Francine takes on a maternal role for
Dwayne, and, seeking her wisdom, Dwayne asks Francine to tell him
what life is all about (165). This ties in with the final scene
of the novel when Vonnegut, as a participating character in the
book, starts ruminating to himself about how the wealth and
grandeur of his grandparents on both sides of the family had
totally disappeared by his childhood. This helped him to realize
the temporariness and insignificance of everything that was and
is (288). So what can Vonnegut put his faith into? This is
a question he has yet to answer.
The most important and deepest personal statement Vonnegut
makes in Breakfast of Champions is not made with words. His
sketches populate the book, but the self-portrait at the end of
the book that goes along with the brief author biography is quite
telling. Vonnegut could have chosen any emotion or mood to
represent himself, and the mood he chose was that of sorrow and
pain. The single, massive tear drop leaving his eye is indicative
of the pain he has felt in trying to make sense out of this
existence.
Slapstick is the closest Vonnegut will ever come to writing
an autobiography (1). He reveals through a conversation he had
with his brother Bernard that he was sick of writing, and always
had been (16), but that he had always written for an audience of
one, for their deceased sister (15). After recounting that
incident he mentions that he lit up a cigarette, and that Bernard
didn't, because Bernard didn't smoke anymore. He says that it's
important that Bernard not smoke because Bernard must live a good
while longer due to the fact that two little boys are depending
on him. In puffing away, Vonnegut is telling the reader that
it's no big deal if he himself should die, that he's become an
expendable cog.
The issue of love is prevalent in the second half of
Slapstick. The dizygotic neanderthaloid twins in the novel,
Wilbur Rockefeller Swain and Eliza Mellon Swain, are symbolic of
Vonnegut and his late sister, Alice. When Wilbur tells Eliza for
the first time that he loves her, Eliza says that she doesn't
like it, because it's as if Wilbur is putting a gun to her head,
for what else can Eliza, or anybody, say but, "I love you, too?"
(108). Later when Wilbur encounters Eliza, for what will prove to
be the last time, Eliza is hovering above him in a helicopter.
Wilbur shouts out to her that he loves her, to which she replies,
"'Nobody should ever say that to anybody'" (139). Vonnegut is
reinforcing his desire to share relationships of common decency,
rather than of love.
A parting shot that Vonnegut makes at love is in regards to
his own terminated marriage to Jane Cox. Late in the novel Wilbur
is talking to his nearest neighbor, Vera Chipmunk-5 Zappa, who
was a victim of spousal abuse. When Wilbur asks her what the
moral is of one of the stories she's told him about her dead,
wife-beating husband, she tells him, "'Wilbur - don't ever get
married'" (209).
Early in Jailbird Vonnegut refers again to his mother's
suicide (11). Obviously, even though it occurred thirty-Five
years before the publication of the book, it still affects him.
It is no wonder, then, that Vonnegut follows up the mention of
his mother's suicide with a short tale about his time as
a professor at Harvard, during which time his first marriage came
to an end and his home was going to pieces. He confided this to
one of his students, who replied, "'It shows!'" (11). Vonnegut is
not one who assimilates hardships well, and he knows it. Due to
the suicide of his mother and the retreat from life of his
father, Vonnegut says that an air of defeat has always been
a companion of his (13).
Midway through Jailbird Vonnegut turns to thoughts about the
tough times and unfortunate circumstances of this world. In
Nineteen-hundred and Thirty- one the main character, Walter F.
Starbuck, takes Sarah Wyatt, one of the four girls he would ever
love, out on the town in New York City. Sarah's family has been
plagued by tragedy, as the clock company her family owned
accidently poisoned almost fifty female employees with radium,
all of whom had already died, or were about to (144). Her family
lost its wealth. Walter, who's a student at Harvard at the time,
goes to pick her up in New York, where she is staying with her
paternal grandmother for the weekend (135). Sarah has a nearly
habitual laugh, whether the subject is her beauty, sex, or the
Depression. Her grandmother scolds her by saying there is nothing
constructive in laughing all the time. "'I can cry, too,'" Sarah
says. "'You want me to cry?'" (143). This scene is a microcosm
for Vonnegut's life: so much that has been in this world (his
parents' and sister's death, Dresden, his son Mark's
schizophrenic breakdown) could make him cry, but he chooses to
laugh instead. And while this scene shows Sarah coping by
laughing as an eighteen year old, she is shown later in her life,
even into her sixties, to be using the same tactic to cope with
the deaths of the patients at the hospital where she works (175,
243).
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
(the main page, abstract, evaluation form...)
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 1 - AUTOBIOGRAPHY
CHAPTER 2 - PHILOSOPHY AND OPINIONS
CHAPTER 3 - STYLE
WORKS CITED