Monday, March 12, 2012

What happens next?

So far in this English class we've read some pretty terrible and terrifying things. Coalhouse Walker's rampages were pretty scary and there were some tense moments when he was in the art museum. The secret orders in Mumbo Jumbo sometimes did intense things, like that bizarre killing of the official who caught Jes Grew at the beginning. And Slaughterhouse-Five was certainly not a light-hearted book, although it was sometimes funny. The killing of many innocent civilians and the horrors of war are not easy to brush off.

But so far, the book that scares me most is Kindred. While reading my back tenses up; my eyes don't leave the page. I stop hearing the music in my room and I want to ignore my brother when he asks me a question. All I want to know is does Dana escape safely? Is she going to be seriously hurt? How does she get home?

Octavia Butler is inspiring the kind of utter terror that the best books use to pull you into the story, to make you so nervous that you can hardly pick the book up for fear of what will happen while at the same time it calls to you from across the house making you itch to read it.

In no other book so far this semester have I been as intensely gripped by the story and compelled to continue reading. Not that I haven't enjoyed the other books, I have enjoyed them quite a bit. But this story is just calling to me, "Read me, read me! Find out what happens next!"

But I can't. I've finished tonight's reading and I must stop now or I'll be up all night finishing the novel and then I'll have to watch myself all week so that I don't spoil the plot for others. But I really want to know, what happens next?

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Just the Way You Are

One aspect of Billy's non-war world that we haven't touched on in class is his relationship with his wife Valencia.

At some points, she strikes me as a very repulsive person. She is all about money and jewels and appearances and doesn't strike me as very authentic. She seems like a person who would wear too much make-up and is generally unpleasant to hang out with. Sometimes I think that Billy is wondering why he is married to her because she is insensitive or boring (seriously, how much does one need to talk about the pattern for one's silver?). Here are some of my favorite descriptions of Valencia:
She was rich. She was as big as a house because she couldn't stop eating. ... She was wearing trifocal lenses in harlequin frames, and the frames were trimmed with rhinestones. The glitter of the rhinestones was answered by the glitter of the diamond in her engagement ring. The diamond was insured for eighteen hundred dollars. (136-137)
She was one of the symptoms of his disease. He knew he was going crazy when he heard himself proposing marriage to her, when he begged her to take the diamond ring and be his companion for life. (137) 
He had been rewarded for marrying a girl nobody in his right mind would have married. (151) 
Valencia adored Billy. She was crying and yelping so hard as she drove that she missed the correct turnoff from the throughway. (233) 
At other points their relationship just makes me want to laugh. There is very little romantic about their relationship. For example, in the conversation recorded on their honeymoon Valencia starts crying because she "never thought anybody would marry [her]." "'Um,' said Billy Pilgrim" (153).

"Um." What kind of response is "um" to a bride on her honeymoon? That is just such an awkward moment when it seems like a great place for a romantic scene. But no, we just get Billy Pilgrim uncomfortably not wanting to audibly express his thought about no one in their right mind marrying her.

But at the same time there are a couple of very sweet moments with Valencia. My favorite is when Valencia decides that she will lose weight for Billy and become beautiful to please him. Billy responds, "I like you just the way you are" (153).

There is enough in the text that you can read this as just a detached Billy saying something without a lot of meaning or significance because he knew the marriage "was going to be at least bearable all the way" (153).

But I like to see it as a touching moment where Billy looks to her and affirms her as she is, not asking her to become someone else for him. Maybe they aren't the most loving couple ever, but he recognizes that their relationship means a lot to her and doesn't want to hurt her.

So while I sometimes nod my head along with Billy's realization that he might be crazy to marry Valencia, I also find their relationship satisfying as a model of love, more so than his relationship with Montana Wildhack, because he stays with her even if she isn't beautiful or enjoyable. He loves her just the way she is, as much as Billy can really love. Which makes me think of the song, but that is really just a side note.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Fiction lies about soldiers, says Vonnegut

URBANA 1969--

According to the New York Times, women are often being told lies by the media about what the ideal body shape is. Media tells them that the must be unreachably beautiful, perfectly attired and done up to the standard of photo-shopped models in magazines.

If you were an alien who only knew about earth from our written media, you might be shocked to meet a human woman.

"Where are the real women?" You might ask. "Where are the skinny, tall, shapely women? These earth women are too fat, too short, too plain to be real women."

According to Vonnegut's hidden message in his new novel Slaughter-House Five, fiction and media also lie about what a soldier really is like. They perpetuate an image of the soldier as a hero in uniform with superhuman courage who makes heroic gestures in the face of the enemy. They encourage readers to admire their strong arms and deep devotion to the American cause.

Vonnegut's war widow asks questions like the alien.

"Aren't you awfully old to be in the army? Aren't you awfully young to be in the army? Are you supposed to be in the army [directed at Billy]?"

The soldiers in front of her don't look like "real soldiers," she says. They don't match up to the image she has of soldiers as grand, strong men who can take on any enemy.

And that is the hidden message of Vonnegut's novel: There is no such thing as a "real soldier" just like there is no such thing as a "beautiful woman" as the media and fiction present them.

But shhhh, there is a reason Vonnegut has to write a whole novel to disguise that idea. The media doesn't want people to catch on. It is bad for recruiting and national security.