Sunday, April 29, 2012

Weeks 6 and 7: Jailbird (1979)



We jump ahead a full decade from 1969's Slaughterhouse-Five to 1979's Jailbird.  Why?  Well, as we've discussed several times in class, after the disheartening lean years leading up to Slaughterhouse-Five, Vonnegut had a very difficult time dealing with his success, fan's expectations of him and his desires to remain financially solvent (along with the dissolution of his marriage to Jane Marie Cox and his son Mark's institutionalization).  In essence, the author lost touch with himself and his talents, transforming himself into a popular persona à la Mark Twain that was a mere caricature of his former self (to get some sense of this change, along with some of the hypocrisies of this new self, you can read this excerpt from Charles Shields' recent KV bio from the bottom of pg. 297 to 301).  As a result, he followed the critical and popular success of Slaughterhouse-Five with two of his most poorly-received novels: Breakfast of Champions, or Goodbye Blue Monday (1973) and Slapstick, or Lonesome No More! (1976).

During this same time, America was undergoing its own identity crisis as the hopeful politics of the 1960s dissolved into hopeless malaise as the 70s unfolded.  The abrupt shocks that destroyed this optimism (cf. Vonnegut's inclusion of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King's assassinations in the final chapter of Slaughterhouse-Five), joined by the long quagmire of the war in Vietnam and fresh wounds inflicted by the Watergate scandal.  Taken together, these internal and external dilemmas form the context for Jailbird, wherein Vonnegut, approaching his sixtieth birthday seeks answers in the lessons and convictions of his past.  Walter F. Starbuck, the novel's protagonist, who's just been released from prison after serving time for minor crimes as part of Watergate, finds himself in the exact same situation, and his (and Vonnegut's) retrospective soul-searching will cross paths with a veritable pantheon of secular American saints cut from the same cloth as Eliot Rosewater, including Eugene V. Debs, Powers Hapgood, Sacco and Vanzetti, and others.

In a 2003 interview with David Barsamian in The Progressive, Vonnegut talks about the strange interplay of socialism and Christianity within his ethics, mentioning some of the historic figures who factor positively into Jailbird:

Vonnegut: It’s perfectly ordinary to be a socialist. It’s perfectly normal to be in favor of fire departments. There was a time when I could vote for economic justice, and I can’t anymore. I cast my first vote for a socialist candidate—Norman Thomas, a Christian minister. I had to cast it by absentee ballot. I used to have three socialist parties to choose from—the Socialist Labor Party, Socialist Workers Party, and I forgot what the other one was.

Q: You take pride in being from Indiana, in being a Hoosier.

Vonnegut: For being from the state that gave us Eugene Debs.

Q: Eugene Debs of Terre Haute on the Wabash.

Vonnegut: Where Timothy McVeigh was executed. Eugene Debs said (and this is merely a paraphrase of the Sermon on the Mount, which is what so much socialist writing is), “As long as there’s a lower class, I’m in it; as long as there’s a criminal element, I’m of it; as long as there is a soul in prison,” which would include Timothy McVeigh, “I am not free.” What is wrong with that? Of course, Jesus got crucified for saying the same thing.

Q: With two million souls in prison today in the United States, Debs would be very busy.

Vonnegut: Debs would’ve committed suicide, feeling there was nothing he could do about it.

Q: There is another Hoosier you write about who is unknown, Powers Hapgood of Indianapolis. Who was he?

Vonnegut: Powers Hapgood was a rich kid. His family owned a successful cannery in Indianapolis. Powers was radicalized. After he graduated from Harvard, he went to work in a coal mine to find out what that was like. He became a labor organizer. He led the pickets against the execution of Sacco and Vanzetti. I got to know him late in his life when he’d become a local CIO official. There was some sort of dustup on a picket line, enough to bring the cops into play. Hapgood was testifying in court about what was to be done about CIO members who had made trouble. The judge stopped the proceedings at one point and said, “Hapgood, why would a man with your advantages, from a wealthy, respected family, Harvard graduate, lead such a life?” Powers Hapgood replied, “Why, the Sermon on the Mount, sir.” Not bad, huh?

While we're on the topic of Vonnegut's moralists, it's worth noting that good old Kilgore Trout appears in Jailbird as well, however in very different circumstances that we have (or will) see him elsewhere.  Try not to get too hung up on the differences — not unlike the radically differences between the Diana Moon Glampers of "Harrison Bergeron" and God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, we can, perhaps, chalk this up to authorial carelessness.

Here's our reading schedule for Jailbird:

  • Thursday, May 3: Jailbird ch. 1 - 10
  • Tuesday, May 8: Jailbird ch. 11 - epilogue

And here are some supplemental readings:

  • John Leonard's New York Times review of Jailbird: [link]
  • full text of Vonnegut's 2003 interview with David Barsamian in The Progressive: [link]
  • Kirkus Reviews' appraisal of the novel: [link]
  • Wikipedia page on the Watergate scandal: [link]

8 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  2. 1)

    In JailBird, Vonnegut continues to address and mock various American systems.
    More specifically, he reveals many the government and corporal leaders that did not climb the ranks, but skip to the very top. The main character, Walter F. Starbuck, holds various positions in the government, such as working for Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Department of Agriculture and President Nixon’s special advisor on youth affairs. With many other job titles, it appears that his opportunities and status arrive from the repeating “Harvard Man” reference.

    From the very beginning, the multimillionaire, McCone stresses the importance of sending young Walter to Hardvard; so much, that he thinks that he will be better accepted if he does not use in original last name, Stankiewicz. Walter’s farther was “advised that Stankiewicz had unpleasant connotations to American ears, that people would think he smelled bad…” (74).

    Why is Vonnegut stressing the idea of personal “title” meaning everything? More specifically, is he conveying that there is a brain washed idea in American minds that college and education define a man? Perhaps, a mocking of the education system and the assumption that a person’s title creates a respectable or honorable up bringing.



    2)

    There are constant references to Walter’s affiliation with communism as a youth. Although Vonnegut constantly shows how capitalism has prevailed in America, he hints that the country is not progressing, but receding. For instance, he references the treatment of human beings in Cleveland workers on the Christmas day massacre. Also, Vonnegut refers to the Kent State shooting, where protestors were killed. More importantly in the story, Nixon mocks the one in charge of youth affairs, Walter. Claiming that he wants Walter to give a demonstration and “put out a campfire”. The oval table with very important people burst into laughter.

    Do the references Vonnegut makes serve as a lesson for the unfair treatment of people? How does Vonnegut show an oppressing American society through the birth of a Capitalist nation? Is Vonnegut supporting a true socialist ideology, or just mocking all attempts of new generations to create a better America?

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    Replies
    1. in paragraph two after "so much"... "he" refers to Walter's father... p.72

      -Kyle Murway

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    2. The youth administrator was not addressed besides being the “butt of the joke”. The person in charge of the Kent State incident received no recollection for the actual issue.

      ^ in addition to question 2, paragraph 1...

      -Kyle Murway

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  3. 1) Jailbird is a story of government corruption, corporate greed, labor war and World War, yet Vonnegut confronts deeply personal subjects, too. One of these is sexuality—or rather, asexuality. In the novel's first chapter, Walter F. Starbuck cites a study done by a magazine that reveals "the frequency of sexual intercourse by American males in various professions." The study reports, "Firemen were the most ardent, making love ten times a week. College professors were the least ardent, making love once a month." Walter adds that a classmate of his, who "would actually be killed in the Second World War, shook his head mournfully [at the statistics] and said, 'Gee—I'd give anything to be a college professor.'" This passage is preceded by an account of the unrealistic sexual expectations of newly wed women, and is proceeded by the lyrics to "Sally in the Garden," a song which Walters feels is a grotesque mockery of female sexuality. Another clear example of asexuality is Sarah Wyatt, who's described as being childishly uninterested in sex ("Nobody's home," a former boyfriend quips). Then, of course, there is Ruth. In reaction to the horrors of the war, Ruth becomes an emaciated, genderless "sprite;" she refuses to be touched, declaring that she feels "closer to God" that way. Walter himself claims to be a 33-year-old "virgin," insisting that he and other government men are like celibate monks who serve "war, war, war" to the exclusion of everything else. Once Starbuck manages to wed and bed Ruth, they bear only one child—a boy who grows to hate them. The ultimate outcome of their union is that beautiful and talented Ruth eats too much, bloats up, and suffers through a stressful and meaningless life.

    Based on these examples, what do you think Vonnegut is attempting to communicate about human sexuality? Are the demands of modern life incompatible with a satisfying sex life? Are we doomed to be monks and priestesses in service of a larger purpose? Or are there other connections that I haven't covered here—perhaps to Vonnegut's other stories, or to his personal life?

    2) Throughout his novels, Vonnegut methodically (or perhaps spasmodically) blends reality and fantasy, biography and fiction, to the point that it becomes difficult to tell the difference. Jailbird, unlike his previous novels, includes an official index of all the characters that appear in the story; this index indiscriminately places fictional characters (such as Kilgore Trout) alongside real characters (such as Richard Nixon). Even more confusing, there are plenty of characters that fall somewhere BETWEEN fictional and real; they are either real people with their names changed (ex: Powers Hapgood), or real names with their people changed (ex: Vonnegut and his family as they appear in the prologue). Keep in mind Claire Minton, the professional indexer in Cat's Cradle, who tells us that authors expose themselves when they create indexes of their work. Why does Vonnegut choose to do an index—is it just a postmodern flourish? Or does it say something about how Vonnegut feels his book should be read? Like Minton suggests, does it reveal something about how Vonnegut views himself or the novel? And what does it mean that fictional characters and real characters mingle as if there is no significant distinction to be made between the two?

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  4. 1) In the prologue of Jailbird Vonnegut introduces a character named Kenneth Whistler, who is based off of a man Vonnegut once met named Powers Hapgood. Both Hapgood and Whistler come from good families, they both attended Harvard and they both worked in the coalmines after graduation. Hapgood wasn’t a typical Harvard man; he fought for the rights of the common man by organizing strikes and helping workers unionize. One day, while serving as a witness in court, a judge asked Hapgood, “Why would a man from such a distinguished family and with such a fine education choose to live as you do?” Hapgood replied, “Why? Because of the Sermon on the Mount, sir” (Vonnegut 12). Fast-forward to the epilogue of the novel and you will find out that the protagonist, Walter Starbuck, is asked a very similar question by then Senator Nixon in which Starbuck gives the same reply that Hapgood/Whistler gave the judge.
    In an interview with Progressive Magazine, Vonnegut calls the Sermon on the Mount and the Lord’s Prayer masterpieces, which is interesting considering the fact that Vonnegut was an atheist. Despite his own disbelief in a God, Vonnegut wrote about Christianity in many of his works. How does he use religion? Why does he use religion? And most importantly, what does Vonnegut accomplish by including religion in this piece?



    2) Throughout Jailbird Walter is typically dealt the worst card. He goes to jail for something he didn’t do, he exposes his friend for having sympathetic thoughts towards communism in front of Congress, his wife dies, and his son hates him. However, when Walter goes to New York City things begin to turn around for him, sort of. As Walter is walking down the street one morning he runs into Leland Clewes, the friend that he had exposed years earlier. Walter expected that Leland would want to say something to him, so he tried to run away, but Leland caught up to him. The conversation that ensued was anything less than expected; in short, Leland cleared the air between the two of them and even invited Walter to dinner with him and his wife. Walter couldn’t be happier, and then while in the middle of his conversation with Leland, a seemingly homeless woman comes up to Walter and starts to cause a scene. This woman turns out to be Marry Kathleen O’Looney, a former girlfriend of Walter’s during his Harvard years. Walter’s life would never be the same after this experience. Not only was this woman Marry Kathleen O’Looney, but she was actually Mrs. Jack Graham, the CEO of RAMJAC, the largest conglomerate in the world. Little did Walter know, Marry made plans for him to become a VP of one of her companies along with several other nice strangers. When Walter visits Marry at her lair, he finds her in a bathroom stall bleeding to death. She had been hit by a car and soon died after. Before she died, Mary had given Walter her will, which he hid from the police and for which he would be going back to jail a few years later. Walter ran his company for two years before he had to go to jail and he had the time of his life. He had friends, he had money, and he finally had tasted success, if only for a short period of time. By the time Walter was ready to go to jail, the U.S. government had taken over RAMJAC, which was Mary’s wish.
    Vonnegut is very good at keeping his characters humanized, never too complicated and never too simple. However, at times it seems as if the plot is too predictable. If something good happens you know that something bad is going to happen and typically, his novels end not on a bad note, but not on a good note either. Is this heavy influence of realism always necessary? How does realism/humanism enhance Vonnegut’s stories? Does it ever take away from his works? What do Vonnegut’s choices about his stories say about himself, if anything? (i.e., his worldview, etc.)


    Bryce Althen

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  5. 1.) The RAMJAC Corporation plays a central role in the plot of Jailbird. Within the world that Vonnegut presents to us, RAMJAC is a company so large and diverse in it’s business holdings that it influences nearly every facet of American life. At it’s peak, RAMJAC is said to own 19% of the country’s business interests, presiding over everything from record labels to hamburger stands. We learn near the end of the book that Mary Kathleen O’Looney (aka Mrs. Jack Graham) has been running the corporation with a surprisingly simple business plan, “acquire, acquire, acquire”. It is revealed that Mary Kathleen is building up the company with the intent of leaving all of it’s assets to the American people upon her death. In addition, she appoints modern day “saints”, people who have performed small acts of kindness towards strangers, as vice-presidents in her corporation. This idealistic notion does not end up working out in the end, as most of the holdings of the RAMJAC Corporation are sold off and become entangled in a mire of bureaucracy and greed. What does the rise and fall of RAMJAC, from it’s days as a monolithic corporate entity to it’s role as a failed experiment in economic revolution suggest about the conflict between human compassion and profit-driven corporate culture? Is it possible for these two ideals to exist harmoniously in a modern economy?

    -Nick Bading

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  6. 2.) Throughout Jailbird, we are introduced to a multitude of characters who are Harvard graduates. The university is presented as a prerequisite for joining the upper ranks of government and industry in America, a proving ground for tomorrow’s societal elite. Once out of prison, Walter Starbuck dreams of laughing with old friends at the Harvard Club in New York City, blocks from the skid row hotel room he is living in. Despite his damaged reputation, at times Walter still expresses a certain pride for his status as a Harvard man. Harvard is portrayed as an institution of the highest virtue and character, its graduates strong, confident, and socially at ease. But as we read further into the story, we are presented a conflicting image of America’s mighty Ivy League stronghold. In the Federal Minimum Security Adult Correctional Facility, there are at least seven “honorable” Harvard men serving sentences for white-collar crime. Delmar Peale, the salesman at the American Harp Company expresses scorn for the university’s holier-than-thou reputation when he says, “I’ve heard that you can always tell a Harvard man, but you can’t tell him much”. Also mentioned are the discriminatory admissions policies and culture of Harvard. Before attending college, Walter was advised to anglicize his surname in order to be accepted amongst the sons of the wealthy and powerful, and the book mentions the quota systems the university used to limit the number of non-white students who got accepted. The image of the refined, upper-crust Harvard man is portrayed as a mask which must be worn to successfully gain status in a country dependent on social rank. In what other ways do the characters in Jailbird assume fabricated identities to conform to society’s expectations?

    -Nick Bading

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