Then, reading further in Yarbrough, Hassan is quoted as saying the term postmodernism applies to "a world caught between fragments and wholes, terror and totalitarianism of every kind."
In Vonnegut's novel, characters reflect the deconstruction of American society in the 1950s, during the period of paranoia dominated by U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy's fascist-like search for "communist sympathizers," which created terror and loathing and reflected how morally shallow yet potent the hammer of temporary totalitarian authority can be.
On page 96, Chapter 44, it is revealed that Horlick Minton had once been fired by the State Department for allegedly being "soft on communism" - but the only "real evidence" used to justify his dismissal, his wife announced, was a letter she wrote to the New York Times from Pakistan. What did it say? "It said a lot of things...because I was very upset about how Americans couldn't imagine what it was like to be something else...and be proud of it," Claire Minton explained. Horlick Minton quoted from the letter: "Americans are forever searching for love in forms it never takes, in places it can never be. It must have something to do with the vanished frontier."
That "vanished frontier" is perhaps Vonnegut's allusion to the loss of the idealism that America once represented. "The highest form of treason is to say Americans aren't loved wherever they go, whatever they do," Minton added on page 98.
Vonnegut's postmodernism style throughout this book is a quasi-cynical but not entirely exaggerated representation of America; the folly of religion, for example, is shown in numerous passages. On page 4-5, God liked people "in sailboats much better than He liked people in motorboats." And on page 2, humanity is organized into teams to do "God's will" but those teams never discover "what they are doing." Hence, God is a mystery, and writers like Vonnegut have license to muse over society's clumsy attempt to define and categorize Him for their own future salvation from themselves.
Irony abounds in Vonnegut's postmodernism; on page 8 the theme continues involving what various people were doing when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima; Newt's dad was in his pajamas "...smoking a cigar...playing with a loop of string." What could be more profoundly petty while hundreds of thousands of Japanese citizens are being vaporized in an as yet un-heard-of firestorm of splitting atoms?
The America culture, whose citizens search vainly for answers to the deeper questions of life, is constantly parodied by Vonnegut; "The trouble with the world was...that people were still superstitious instead of scientific," Sandra (page 24) says, recalling what Dr. Breed uttered during his commencement address. Sandra continues recounting the inane and brutally simplistic theory of Dr. Breed: "He said if everybody would study science more, there wouldn't be all the trouble there was," and that "science" was going to discover "the basic secret of life someday."
Didn't I read in the paper the other day where they'd finally found out what it was?" The bartender interjects into the conversation (page 25). "What is the secret of life," the narrator asks. "I forget," said Sandra, but the bartender remembered what he had read. "Protein. They found out something about protein." "Yeah," Sandra remembered, "that's it." Indeed, Dr. Klages' description of postmodernism - "pastiche, parody...irony and playfulness" - comes to life poignantly through the tactics and strategies of Vonnegut and his characters.
A classic example of Vonnegut poking fun at how Americans hide behind their religion (or use religion as a shield against threats to their pride) is on page 167, as Julian Castle tells the narrator, if you happen to "run across" Dr. Albert Schweitzer, "you can tell him he's not my hero...but...thanks to him, Jesus Christ is." Wise-cracking, John the narrator says he thinks Schweitzer will "be glad to hear it." "I don't give a damn if he is or not," Castle returns. "This is something between Jesus and me."
Saul Bellow: Herzog
While Herzog is buying a suit of clothes in New York (with money borrowed from brother Shura) the salesman insults him (page 19-20), reacting to Herzog's 34-inch waist with, "Don't boast." Americans are not always willing to bite back when bitten, its considered embarrassing to loudly confront hostility with hostility, but this particular salesman has "a meat-flavored breath, a dog's breath," and though Herzog was "too gentlemanly to hold it against him," he nonetheless wrote the salesman a note in the fitting room. "Dear Mack. Dealing with poor jerks every day. Male pride. Effrontery. Conceit...hard job if you happen to be a grudging, angry fellow."
The American national culture is continually interacting with a perceived (or real)...
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