Slaughterhouse-Five

TIME magazine ranked "Slaughterhouse-Five" twelfth on its list of the 100 best novels of the 20th Century ("Gone With the Wind" was eleventh, "Lolita", thirteenth). It is an important achievement by any standard, the most significant of Kurt Vonnegut's work. If a review is in order at this point in time (thirty-six years after its publication) it ought not deal with its merit, that's a given, but should address some aspect of the work that makes it relevant today. At a time when our country is war-logged, tired to death of the war in Afghanistan, "Slaughterhouse-Five" reminds us of all that is wrong with depending on the military to sort out the world's problems. Billy Pilgrim, the hapless World War II Chaplin's Assistant whose experiences toward the end of the war are at the center of Vonnegut's tale, could not have been less suited for active duty. Separated from his unit virtually from the time he reached the front at the Battle of the Bulge, he never got his bearings and soon came to grief. Hurting, in way over his head, Pilgrim wanted to be left to die, but couldn't manage even that. Roland Weary, a buddy, refused to leave him behind, and bullied him along. When captured, Weary and Pilgrim were in such sad shape that their captors published photographs of them "as heartening evidence of how miserably equipped the American Army often was." Vonnegut, whose actual World War II service provided much of the raw material for the book, never lets the reader forget the reasons for his antiwar views. These become most clear in the account of the aftermath of the bombing raid on Dresden, the centerpiece of the book. In gross violation of the rules of war, the raid was designed to immolate Dresden's civilian population in the course of burning the city to the ground. Winston Churchill is said to have approved the raid because he wanted to deal with Stalin at the upcoming Yalta Conference from a position of strength. The fact that adverse weather conditions delayed the planned attack until after Yalta did not persuade Churchill to back off. The great old city of Dresden, a place of no military value, one which the Red Cross considered an open city, i.e. one that would not be bombed, was wiped out. Billy Pilgrim was part of a small group of American prisoners who were housed (as Vonnegut had been) in a deep underground meat locker, Slaughterhouse-Five, away from the city center. It is where Pilgrim (and Vonnegut) spent the night of the bombing. "There were sounds like giant footsteps above. . . . There was a fire-storm out there. Dresden was one big flame. The one flame ate everything organic, everything that would burn. . . . When the Americans and their guards did come out [the next day], the sky was black with smoke. The sun was an angry little pinhead. Dresden was like the moon now, nothing but minerals. The stones were hot. Everybody else in the neighborhood was dead. So it goes." For practical purposes, this gut-wrenching account was for a great many Americans their first accurate look at what had happened to Dresden at the hands of our Eighth Air Force. "Slaughterhouse-Five" not only revealed the extent of the atrocity, it makes clear Vonnegut's contempt for our government's efforts to conceal it from us. As Vonnegut writes "Even then [back in the days fairly soon after the War] I was supposedly writing a book about Dresden. It wasn't a famous air raid back then in America. Not many Americans knew how much worse it had been than Hiroshima, for instance. I didn't know that either. There hadn't been that much publicity." See the End Note. Vonnegut uses the phrase "so it goes" to emphasize the finality of death. It appears at least 84 times in the book including the one quoted above. The editors of the 2009 Dial Press trade paper edition missed a great chance to use it to good purpose in the brief biographical note on the book's back cover. It ends: "Mr. Vonnegut passed away in April 2007." If Vonnegut had been alive to compose that note, he would have added "so it goes." End Note. Midway through Chapter 9 of "Slaughterhouse-Five" the narrator, alter ego for the author, states "the thing was, though, there was almost nothing in the 27 volumes [of the "Official History of the Army Air Force in World War Two"] about the Dresden raid, even though it was a howling success." So true. The account of operations for the night of February13-14 simply says "461 B17s are dispatched to hit the marshaling yard at Dresden (311)." The number in parenthesis apparently refers to the number of targets destroyed in the marshaling yard-- a place where"railway [cars] are shunted and made up into trains and where engines, carriages, etc. are kept when not in use." Contrast that with the account of operations in the Pacific on August 6, 1945: "The world's first atomic attack takes place. . . . At 0915 hours (0815 hours Japan time) the atomic bomb is released over Hiroshima from 31,600 feet (9,632 meters), it explodes 50 seconds later. 80+% of the city's buildings are destroyed and over 71,000 people (Japanese figures say from 70,000 to 80,000) are killed."

There are a few plot threads in this book, but they all weave around the protagonist, Billy Pilgrim. The stories converge on Pilgrim from various times in his life. Having been abducted by aliens, the protagonist jaunts back and forth through various experiences of his life in a non-linear fashion. This might seem jarring, but Vonnegut’s straight-forward writing style makes the whole experience very manageable—no slogging through the muck here. From a science fiction perspective, the book has some neat passages about time travel, the fourth dimension and how life would be if time was perceived as a nonlinear experience. The result, in Vonnegut’s opinion, is a sort of melancholy yet content, fatalistic attitude. Contrasting Pilgrim’s time traveling adventure is the ever-present sense of claustrophobia. The protagonist is captured during World War II (as the actual author was in real life) and loses control of his mobility as a prisoner of war. He is also held in an exhibit at a “zoo” on a faraway planet, where he can be gawked at by the local alien population. In other scenes, while convalescing, he is bed-bound at a hospital. At times, Pilgrim expresses feeling trapped in his career as an optometrist and his marriage. Even as a widow, his daughter is constantly challenging his freedom. The time-travel experiences seem to be the only thing that transport Pilgrim out of these feelings, and give him a broader perspective. The aliens (Tralfamadorians) have a completely different perspective on time. They know all the horrible parts of life and all the good parts at once. They can cope with the bad by focusing on the good. Many parallels can be drawn between this and dealing with combat trauma. The jumping around of the plot, feels like flashbacks and sometimes there are flashbacks. However, there is also time-travel. The disjointed narrative seems to emulate symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, which the character is experiencing and the reader is brought into (due to the structure of the book). Stories within stories, within stories hopping back and forth over Pilgrim’s timeline. Yet, there is a cohesive story underlying all the shifts in time and space. The framework of a life. And, maybe that’s what life is. A series of disjointed events that might not make sense individually, but when put together form an arc. When focus is pulled back and perspective is given, the entire story can be realized. While reading this book, it is hard not to think about how the author might have felt, surviving a horrific bombing in WWII as a POW “trapped” underground in a slaughter house. A situation Vonnegut was also not in control of, yet one that was deemed to be his own. Is this book trying to make sense of that experience—or perhaps the experience of all people caught in war? There is much made of this being an anti-war book, and certainly there is that aspect within the pages. Yet, the storyline, to me, seemed to be more along the lines of pointing out that in life, sometimes things are just really really really messed up. Sometimes things are bad and the reasons are not always so simple and straightforward or make a lot sense. Lines blur. Lives are lost. Vonnegut doesn’t seem to say we should not care about this. Instead, he seems to say that we must recognize these difficulties and give them there due. Reflect on them. Perhaps try to do better. Focus on the good. As others have noted, this story is told in Vonnegut’s characteristic style of simple declarative sentences. A breeze to read. And yet his writing is a perfect compliment to this non-linear device of story-telling. Billy Pilgrim comes unstuck in time, and you will too as you read this thoughtful tale of dark reflective humor. Podcast: If you enjoy my review (or this topic) this book and the movie based on it were further discussed/debated in a lively discussion on my podcast: "No Deodorant In Outer Space". The podcast is available on iTunes, YouTube or our website.

Great condition. Wacky book that is very enticing. Not my usual genre, but will be reading more Vonnegut!

A absolutely love Vonnegut’s writing style. Of-the-cuff conversational narrative but never wandering and nothing is superfluous or out-of-place. I’ve never read such a deep book so fast. No wonder it’s a classic.

Vonnegut’s provocative anti-war novel, inspired by his time as a POW in Germany during WWII, packs an emotional punch with its stark depiction of war and the horrific bombing of Dresden by the Allies. The writing is strong and direct. The images of war are formidable, and the characters authentic. There are no heroes—only survivors. It’s a memorable and ambitious book. However, the departures into time travel and sci-fi detract from the main theme, in my opinion, lessening the book's impact. The light-hearted asides and an almost conversational tone when the focus is off the horror of war, and the persistent “so it goes” mantra (sometimes multiple times per page), and you have a book that kills its own narrative. It feels like two novels. The first is the notable one.

Slaughterhouse Five is a book that defies a clear and coherent summary, it is hard to pin it on any one thing. On one level it is a book about the fire bombing of Dresden during the climax of the second world war - which the author witnessed first hand during his military service - but on a much larger level it is a twisted science fiction/psychological cross breed about time travel, aliens, philosophy, war, perspective, life and of course death. So it goes. The book easily scores a 5 out of 5 for it's unique writing style, story and approach: it is very readable, and though it's short, it leaves a long lasting impression. I would also say it's a book you could read twice - which is always a good thing - as there is a lot of depth scattered throughout its pages for the readers who like to highlight, take notes and dwell on the book's themes and messages. Kurt Vonnegut employs a very economical writing style, and relies heavily on symbolism, colours and motifs, but delivers them with short and direct sentences. The author has popularised the saying `So it goes' through Slaughterhouse Five's layers upon layers of (well executed) repetition; these three words hold a certain power in the context of the story, and will no doubt conjure in the reader's mind a fascinating philosophy that underlines the whole book. The story centers around a time traveling man called Billy Pilgrim who served in the Second World War, witnessed the fire bombing at Dresden, and was abducted by aliens who helped him to understand his time traveling experiences. He also ends up at some point in the novel as a POW in a slaughterhouse - numbered 5, obviously. These are all minor details that I will not expand upon, as you will have to read it for yourself, but rest easy in the comforting knowledge that I am not spoiling the book for you. The story is not written in chronological order and allows you to glimpse at all these occurrences and more very early on in the book. The author, even tells the reader how the book will end at the very beginning. And so on. All in all I thoroughly enjoyed reading Slaughterhouse Five. I strongly recommend it to anyone who has not read it before and I will always hold a special place for it in my bookshelf. :)

Vonnegut's most famous novel, and good, but not in his top five (Cat's Cradle, God Bless You Mr. Rosewater, Mother Night, Jailbird and The Sirens of Titan [in no particular order]). Still a must read. Odd mixture of sf and WWII and contemporary life. The best line is in the introduction. Vonnegut recounts being asked at a party whether the book he was writing was an "anti-war" book. Vonnegut admitted it was. The questioner says, "You know what I always say to someone writing an anti-war book?" "No," Vonnegut says, "What do you say?" The questioner replies, "I ask, 'Why don't you write an anti-glacier book instead?'"

Way, way back, I barely knew the name of Kurt Vonnegut. He was not part of the science fiction “ghetto” - some SF fans will no doubt know what I’m talking about – so how could he be worth knowing? Then I grew up, read some of his work, admitted my mistake, and became one of his biggest fans. Yet, somehow, I kept missing what is no doubt one of his greatest books, SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE. Surely everybody now knows Vonnegut’s take on the fire-bombing of Dresden in World War II while Vonnegut was a prisoner of war. The genius is that the story Vonnegut tells resembles war itself: a kaleidoscope of insanity, a series of Cubist paintings set in motion, with little apparent rhyme or reason. Vonnegut seems to have written himself into the story, though the main character, Billy Pilgrim, is presumably made up. One would assume this of Billy’s adventures: Randomly slipping in and out of time, visiting with an extraterrestrial race from the planet Tralfmadore that kept him in a zoo where he mated with a young starlet, and so on. Billy is, truth be told, like most of us: Nondescript, mainly ineffectual, stumbling through a series of random events swirling around us in confusing ways. Much of the book consists of events during World War II – leading up to the firebombing of Dresden and its aftermath, though they mingle with Billy’s life before and after the war. Vonnegut does offer a few observations, though they can be depressing. One of my favorites is: “…there would always be wars, that they were as easy to stop as glaciers. I believe that, too.” In a similar vein, but less depressing: “The nicest veterans … I thought, the kindest and funniest ones, the ones who hated war the most, were the ones who’d really fought.” One of the things I like about Vonnegut is how he often provides a philosophy that sounds as if it should be true. In this book it is the teachings of the extraterrestrials. Billy says at one point: “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… 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. When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in bad condition in that 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.’” I haven’t decided yet if that passage is depressing or not. And there is this piece of Tralfamadoran advice: “That’s one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times, and concentrate on the good ones.” Actually, that might indeed be pretty good advice. SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE is full of such moments. Or, as Vonnegut might say, “So it goes.”

It was an awesome book, I enjoyed it a lot.

Good quality, fast delivery, but I haven’t read it yet.

When reviewing books, I'm usually careful not to reveal too much of the plot – after all, while I might want to encourage people to read a book, I don't want to spoil it for them. For those who like to avoid spoilers, feel free to stop reading after this paragraph. I'll simply say that this is one of those 'must-read' books. I enjoyed it from beginning to end, though it wasn't anything like I expected in any way. I was certainly more than a little sorry that this is a book discovered later in life, as I expect to return to it more than once. It's said that we judge a book by its cover, but I've always felt that was wrong. Perhaps we might buy a book based on its cover, but judging any book on such scant information – a title and picture – is seldom right. Never more so than with Slaughterhouse-Five, which for years I'd suspected is set in the future (it isn't) and centres around a place of grim violence (it doesn't). Why it's called Slaughterhouse-Five is something I'll hold back as a joy for you to discover, should you deem to read it. Slaughterhouse-Five is the story of Billy Pilgrim's life, framed around his time in the Second World War – more specifically, the terrible bombing of Dresden, of which he is, was and will be a survivor. I say is, was and will be partly because the book is written in snatches – small chunks of Billy's life from seemingly random points. I also say this partly because that's how Billy experiences time – for him, it's not linear. It's a story not told by Billy, but by someone who knows him. The author has promised himself – and many others – that he will write something about the bombing of Dresden; something that brings a kind of meaning to the events there. But he can't. He struggles to recall it and friends he was with do the same, or are reluctant to speak of it. It almost falls into being a story about Billy, while at the same time becomes a story about Dresden. It also is, perhaps more than anything else, a story about death. Death pervades almost every part of this book, sewn into its every paragraph like stitches that hold the piece together. And yet it's not the death that we might expect. It's not a brooding or violent death, more an essay in how to put death into the story of life. It talks about death as not something to mourn or fear, but more an inevitable part of a greater whole – life and existence – that is to be celebrated. So it goes. (I won't spoil what that little phrase means, either.) The writing style is welcoming – open, honest and conversational snippets that convey far more than posturing prose ever could. It's an easy read. As Billy travels through life – and time – his story unfolds. Yet much of the writing is achingly beautiful, despite the apparent simplicity of the prose. It's both philosophical and poetic; it's never condescending or pretentious. And it's also not a book about time-travel: this is not The Time-Traveller's Wife. Time-travel is not a plot device, it's a means of unfolding the story, and a way in which both life and death can be put into context. This is also part of Billy's journey – how he must convey to others what he knows is the truth of life, time and death. It's a mission he undertakes late in life – and involves him revealing to others something about himself (with disarming honesty) that can, for many, only serve to fundamentally undermine the integrity of his viewpoint. I won't spoil this for you either, but this key point is written so deftly that you're never sure if it's a delusion or fact. Not that this matters. Billy can't convey his philosophy without revealing how it came about – and why he knows his philosophy to be fact. It's part of a whole – and the whole has to be accepted for any part of it to make sense. In many ways, it's a highly unusual novel. As the book itself says of war (and perhaps of itself): "There are almost no characters in this story, and almost no dramatic confrontations, because most of the people in it are so sick or so much the listless playthings of enormous forces." Slaughterhouse-Five is both casual and epic. It's an easy tale with a deep, deep message, wrapped into a tale of life, woven into a story of war. And war is enormous – yet we sometimes lose perspective. We think of the bombing of Hiroshima as one of the Second World War's biggest events, where 71,379 people died. Yet on a single night, 5 March 1945, Americans dropped high explosives and incendiary bombs on Tokyo – killing 83,793 people. And Dresden? Around 130,000 people were killed in one night. So it goes. Billy survived Dresden by ironic chance of the place in which he was held prisoner – and went on to explain to others that it was neither something that had to be done nor could have been avoided, it 'just was'. If you have war, you have death. If you have life, you have death. I doubt that any book could make sense of (let alone give meaning to) something as awful as the bombing of Dresden, or part of any war – or indeed war itself. But death is part of war as death is part of life and Slaughterhouse-Five gets as close to raising our awareness of where death fits into life as any book I've read. A truly excellent book and one that is easily worthy of its reputation of being a modern masterpiece.

Kitabın basımı, sayfaların rengi, font gerçekten hoş lakin ürünüm hasarlı geldi, arka tarafı ezilmiş neredeyse yırtılmış bir kondisyondaydı. Ancak gelmesini heyecanla beklediğim için geri iade etmek ya da değişim sürecini beklemek istemiyorum o nedenle buruk bir şekilde okuyorum.

Wazig boek. Warrig en niet echt interessant