I read Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five a few weeks ago and fell in love with the rhythmic clarity of its sentences and the understated cynicism of its author. However, the more time I spend in AP Lit, discussing the significance of the boundless themes and motifs in Winesburg, Ohio, I can't shake the feeling that I haven't sufficiently wrapped my mind around Slaughterhouse.
Similar to Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg, Ohio, Slaughterhouse Five consists of fragmented stories. But, instead of being about the many people and faces in a small town, all of Slaughterhouse's stories revolve around the clear protagonist, Billy Pilgrim. Although there are many phrases that repeat in different contexts of the novel, one in particular caught my attention: "blue and ivory." These three words are used to describe disparate situations in Billy's life. A middle aged Billy's bare feet are "ivory and blue" as he sits at the ancient type writer in his house. About twenty years earlier, a younger Billy notices the "blue and ivory claw" of a hand that clings to the vent in his miserable boxcar that travels to a German prisoner of war center. Soonafter, the feet of the dead hobo who had sat by Billy in the boxcar are described as "blue and ivory."
By repeating this phrase, among others - such as "mustard gas and roses" and "nestled like spoons" -, Vonnegut intertwines the fragmented stories in holistic, albeit anachronistic, way. There is no doubt that each story is connected to the other, and I really wish we had read Slaughterhouse Five in class so that we could discuss all the ways Billy's experiences specifically fit together.
Taking AP Lit has made me appreciate the principles of open discussion more than I ever thought I would. I've been a bookworm since I preschool, but I always regarded reading as a solitary activity. In elementary school, I never saw the purpose of the regimented reading groups we were sorted into that served to enhance our reading and verbal skills. In middle school, reading groups ceased to exist as teachers tried to instill in us the principle of taking responsibility for our work and reading outside of class. Even in AP Lang last year, class discussions seemed superficial and pervasive to my understanding of the work. It wasn't until out recent discussions of Winesburg, Ohio this year in AP Lit that I truly realized how amazing open dialogue can be in a room full of insightful people who have all read the same work. Talking about "Strength of God" - a story in Winesburg, Ohio that I had paid very little mind to the first time I read it - completely changed my perspective about discussing books. By seeping in the diverse perspectives of my classmates, I developed a take on the story that completely differed from my original, significantly shallower interpretation.
Doing so gave me a better view of the individual story, and a more complete understanding of Winesburg, Ohio, Modernism, and Literature as a whole.
No comments:
Post a Comment