First Thoughts on Vonnegut

I really enjoyed the first chapter of Slaughterhouse-Five. I must admit, it is nice to be reading something that I can actually follow and understand. I am excited to read further into this book. Vonnegut’s seeming preface sets an interesting tone for the novel and establishes it as being postmodern without seeming dense and indecipherable. I really enjoy deep books written in seemingly simple language, such as The Sun Also Rises, as you no doubt know by now is one of my favorite recently read books. Vonnegut’s establishment of the book as being anti-war is interesting and leaves me wondering where it will go and how it will discuss Dresden. I enjoy the scene with O’Hare and Mary as it beautifully shows how war tends to be depicted in the media as opposed to how it is viewed by many who have been affected by it. The mention of the Children’s Crusade draws a very interesting and relevant parallel that very strongly shows Vonnegut’s views. Also, I enjoyed the story of Vonnegut’s night in the Boston hotel. I have not read the book before, but I do know that it involves time travel.

The time would not pass. Somebody was playing with the clocks, and not only with the electric clocks, but the wind-up kind too. The second hand on my watch would twitch once, and a year would pass, and then it would twitch again. There was nothing I could do about it. As an Earthling, I had to believe whatever clocks said – and calendars. (Vonnegut 26)

I really enjoy how this passage foreshadows the themes of time and the perception of time. I find it interesting how Vonnegut states that at this time, during the war, time is standing still, and later on, the time traveler moves through time to a place where it does not move.  

Jes Grew and Its Text

Wow. I’ve been struggling a lot with Mumbo Jumbo. I’ve definitely fallen behind on posting because I’ve had no idea what to say about a book I didn’t understand. After reading through my article for the panel presentation and reflecting on the book for the reflection paper, I’d like to say that I’ve finally started to get a grip on the book. 

 One of the major themes in the book that continues to strike me is the idea of a Text for Jes Grew and the conclusion that it shouldn’t have a Text. I totally agree with this idea. Jes Grew is an ever-changing, volatile, free movement that should constantly shift and grow as it spreads. That’s the beauty of it. Unlike the stifling control of the Wallflower Order and other Atonists, Jes Grew should adapt and alter itself to its participants. It represents a young rebellion against the unjust established order, and as this opposition transforms, so should Jes Grew. A Text would stifle this. A Text would confine Jes Grew. While the movement seems to die down at the end of the book, it can always reappear. Maybe in a different form or with a different name, but it will still be in the spirit of Jes Grew. It will survive because of its ability and tendency to adapt and change. A concrete definition of Jes Grew as it would be described in the Text would ultimately doom Jes Grew to become plain and comparable to Atonism. It could become the new regime. And it could fall prey to the same problems as other regimes, like Atonism. A Text would corrupt and destroy the splendor of Jes Grew.

Hello Mumbo Jumbo

I really enjoyed the first reading in Mumbo Jumbo. It was incredibly refreshing after Ragtime. Mainly, I enjoy that Reed seems to enjoy writing. He plays around with structure and formatting in a fun way. This totally contrasts Doctorow, who writes in what I believe is an elevated manner. Both writers are hard to decipher at times, but trying to tease meaning from Mumbo Jumbo is enjoyable. It’s like wandering through a maze, unlike in Ragtime, where trying to make sense of things could be a total chore. Both novels jump around a lot, but it feels much more natural in Mumbo Jumbo. I’m quite glad that we are reading a surreal, fun book after the drollness of Ragtime. I enjoy Reed’s take on postmodernism so much more than Doctorow’s due to his playfulness that I’ve already mentioned way too much. In addition to messing around with style and format, he seems to lampoon a lot of culture. The epidemic of Jes Grew is a parody. I really like and respect Reed’s commentary on cultural issues being delivered in a palatable, easygoing manner. I’m glad he makes this commentary without making the reader just feel sad, like Doctorow. While reading Mumbo Jumbo, you’re always on your feet, not knowing what’s going to happen next; he consistently changes things up and keeps the story interesting and fresh, unlike Doctorow, whose variations in his story seem to just die out after half of the novel. I am really looking forward to reading more of Mumbo Jumbo.

And Ragtime Ends

Ragtime is over. Honestly, I’m relieved. I enjoyed parts of the novel and saw themes and motifs that interested me, but as a whole, I didn’t enjoy the book. One of my bigger complaints is the awkward changes in content and style. The story completely changes halfway through and adopts a very serious tone after chapters that contain frivolity and a lot of ridiculous sexual allusions and situations that are completely lacking in the latter part of the novel. I found Doctorow pretentious and while there were themes, the book did not seem to coalesce into a grand story with a big meaning. It just sort of ended.

However, there is one thing that I loved in the end of the novel. After seeing a lot of racial tension surrounding Coalhouse and his run-in with the firemen, I feel like there is a general sense of despair in the novel. The racism in America is inescapable and ever-present, turning the reasonable, likeable Coalhouse into a crazed terrorist. Despite this, in the last chapter, a man who got out of a comparable unenviable situation has a thought that can make a difference.

"He suddenly had an idea for a film. A bunch of children who were pals, white black, fat thin, rich poor, all kinds, mischievous little urchins who would have funny adventures in their own neighborhood, a society of raga muffins, like all of us, a gang, getting into trouble and getting out again."

Tateh, a Jew almost living on the street, who had to tie his child to himself so she would not be stolen, has this idea in a tiny bit of the ending that I believe saves the novel. He has gained influence in the world to the point where he can carry himself as a baron. He also has seen the condition of the working populace of New York. On top of all of this, he has a very real way to disseminate his view. The novel ends on hope; hope and optimism that Tateh’s great view will spread through his art and fix the fucked up world we see in Ragtime.