Brittany's Book Corner

“Slaughterhouse Five” by Kurt Vonnegut

My first encounter with “Slaughterhouse Five” occurred in high school, when I attended a competition as a member of the English Team. While there, we had to take a test that would examine our knowledge of literary classics – “Slaughterhouse Five” was on this test, and I remember being instantly taken with the title.

It sounded horror-esque and I immediately imagined it told the story of a group of five individuals trapped in a cabin in the woods, or something like that. Other than that, I had no knowledge of the contents or themes that it presented.

Imagine my surprise when, half a decade later, I would begin listening to the audiobook on YouTube and immediately be assailed by commentary on war and the realization that this book would be semi-autobiographical “more or less.” Then, my expectations changed.

I thought that there would be a story similar to Erich Maria Remarque’s “All Quiet on the Western Front” or Ernest Hemingway’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls” – linear narratives that would be deep and disturbing and anti-war. I was mistaken.

“Slaughterhouse Five” is almost nothing like these other anti-war novels in the sense that it is more about the effects of surviving war, even years later when there is a sense that, on some level, these individuals have been able to move on.

“Slaughterhouse Five” does not follow its author Kurt Vonnegut (another surprise). Instead, it follows Billy Pilgrim, an optometrist who seems to experience, for lack of a better term, a mental break twenty-five years after his experience as a prisoner of war in Dresden.   

He begins to experience his life out of chronological order, rapidly switching from one moment to another as a victim of abduction by aliens from Tralfamadore, who do not view time linearly and, therefore, view death as though it were meaningless, a thought process I can imagine many would find comforting in such a situation.

“Slaughterhouse Five” is unique and (mostly) humorous. The prose is colorful and occasionally vulgar, and it adds levity to a situation that cannot afford it. The very foundation of the novel is the serious treatment of the absurd and the light-hearted treatment of the serious. Quite frankly, though, it just does not hold the same weight for me as other anti-war novels.

Though they are horribly depressing, they are far more effective for it. “Slaughterhouse Five” has no lack of tense, emotional moments, but I was often distracted by how jarring the transition was from actual war to moments in a human zoo on the planet of Tralfamadore.

The purpose is clear – the absurdity of war mirrors the absurdity of Billy’s beliefs, but I struggle to fully resonate with it.

For most people, though, I’m sure “Slaughterhouse Five” would act as a much more pleasant read than my preferred anti-war novel, “All Quiet on the Western Front.”

Hopelessness is a theme of both, but Vonnegut has the fatalistic sense of humor to turn war into a tragicomedy.

It is niche beyond belief, but the familiar themes of tragedy and war allow readers to relate to it at any level.