In the intro to the “Breaking the Frame” section, the editors offer the following observation about postmodern writers: they “create ruptures, gaps, and ironies that continually remind the reader that an author is present” (1). In reflecting on the excerpts from Vonnegut and Pynchon, discuss how these authors make their presence known as the authors of these texts. What other examples of conventional disruptions or stylistic choices pop out at you as a reader, and what do you make of them?
Write-ups due by Monday 7/6/09 at noon.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
In Breakfast of Champions, Vonnegut reminds the reader that an author is present in very visual ways. Each point, or topic, that he makes is separated by a large, bold arrow, and each chapter is separated by a downward arrow. Hastily drawn illustrations are also scattered throughout the text. I am not at all sure why Vonnegut did this, but, by turning Breakfast of Champions into a sort of picture book, it may serve to accent the humorous and immature nature of his writing. This style of writing could also be an extension of his adopted persona as a sort of robot. Separating each topic by arrow reminds me of an instructional manual, and readers (also robots) might not know what certain things, such as the American flag, look like, so Vonnegut may have decided they had to be drawn in order for them to really be understood.
ReplyDeletePynchon also uses a visual tactic to make his presence known in The Crying of Lot. During conversations, Pynchon (as the narrator) would occasionally take over and sum them up in a very long (more than a page) paragraph. The long paragraphs are a visual interruption, but the summing up of conversations is a direct reminder that the story is being controlled and directed. At the same time, it is somewhat difficult to determine if the narrator or Oedipa is talking in these paragraphs. I believe it to be the narrator, but, if not, then this isn't a very good example. The Crying of Lot was extremely difficult for me to understand (reading the introduction it seems like that might have been the point), so it is difficult to say what other tactics Pynchon might have been using.
I found a lot of symbolism in both writings, with varied meanings for the same symbols. Both pieces also seemed to be filled with anti patriotic views. Such as the distrust in the US mail system in The Crying of Lot 49. It is seen many times in the Breakfast of Champions, one example being that the National Anthem being balderdash.
ReplyDeleteBoth authors technique of tossing in their narrative I felt in some ways helped to clarify the story somewhat. Though it at first seemed out of place and disruptive, but began to find it interesting and actually giving more depth to the piece.
For me, Vonnegut's voice, his conversational tone is the most distinct element of the piece. He repeatedly tells us what he is doing in the writing! (My high school creative writing teacher would be horrified: "Show don't tell!") We are told he is writing the book as a birthday present to himself, and in it, he plans to clear his head "of all the junk in there" (87). In Chapter 1, we never actually meet the main characters; Vonnegut simply tells us about them. I found the style highly enjoyable, but I also found myself waiting for the real story to "kick in." I am too literal still.
ReplyDeletePynchon and Vonnegut share both a stylistic choice and a thematic choice that piqued my interest. First, they both appoint the most unique--and almost ridiculous--names to their characters. I am aware of some of the meaning in Pynchon's names (Oedipa being the most obvious); on the other hand, I feel Vonnegut chose his names primarily for the way they sound (clunky and silly). Further, both authors seem to be concerned with signifiers that signify nothing. In the Pynchon piece, Oedipa does not "get the bottom" of the post horn. What does it mean, and why are the people who are using it making a "calculated withdrawal, from the life of the Republic, from its machinery" (12)? Vonnegut actually writes/draws a series of symbols (The Star Spangled Banner, the US flag, the symbol from the dollar bill, 1492, the torch and a yin-yang) and then derides each of these in their turn. This perhaps indicates the pointlessness and/or brainwashing abilities of symbols.
There is one stylistic choice of Pynchon I wish to point out. On pages 11 and 12, he lists all the people Oedipa observes as "voyeur and listener" while at the airport. This list reminds me of Kingston's list of people Whittman sees while walking through Chinatown which reminds me of Ginsberg's list of "men who" which reminds me of Whitman's list of people he encountered on his walks through New York. This act of listing is a symbolic act of seeing these people, these kinds of people. This recognition of the average person is missing from the majority of literature prior to the twentieth century. It seems a tradition now.
The third chapter of James Joyce’s Ulysses begins with the famous line “Ineluctable modality of all things visible,” then announces, “signatures of all things I am here to read.” The chapter is essentially about a man with an artistic temperament walking along a beach, paying special attention to every object he sees, and Joyce records everything, imbuing the objects on the beach with symbolic importance. The Crying of Lot 49 is very similar to this portion of Ulysses, but the difference is, the symbols are unclear, and objects may only signify themselves. Pynchon is then using high modernism as a template, but refuting what high modernism stood for. Similar to Joyce, he uses phrases like “the night’s sonorous score,” but you don’t get the sense Oedipa is doing anything particularly important.
ReplyDeleteAs for the narrative voice, it for the most part remains an impartial observer. The reader is rarely given great insight into the characters, rather they are the symbols the reader is here to read and interpret. This works on a whole other level, because by trying to interpret the book itself we are confronted with the exact dilemma Oedipa faces. This sort of confusion is only heightened when Pynchon gives the reader unclear descriptions. Suddenly, Oedipa’s quest into understanding this conspiracy becomes the reader’s quest, and draws parallels with normal everyday activities like researching or studying—any person whose had to do a research project can identify with Oedipa.
Vonnegut maintains a similar detachment from his characters. In Breakfast of Champions, he writes it as if he is in the future, trying to explain past events. Throughout the novel, he writes as if utilizing the scientific method, which is again and again inadequate in understanding people. The reader then on every page must make assumptions and judgments, and the reader then becomes actively engaged—if not the book will likely seem ridiculous.
Both these pieces were new to me. I had heard of Vonnegut, but not Pynchon. Each of their styles seem to be as much visual or precarious in their meaning as in the words themselves. The arrows/pictures in "Breakfast of Champions" are nearly as unappealing as the clumsy paragraphing in "The Crying of Lot 49." It looks as if they both wish to distract you from the actual text and have these be an influence on the reading. Although I found after their continued presence a little annoyed at their continuations... Maybe that was the point instead.
ReplyDeletePynchon's piece was a little more difficult to understand it seemed at first. But reading it through again it became clearer, while upon reading Vonnegut's piece again the symbols kept me whirling in every direction related to their meaning. I liked the "beat-around-the-bush" style of Pynchon through his description of his main characters in the first part of the piece. He didn't introduce them formally, but described them almost vicariously. The names of Pynchon also allude to other works, relating to the works of Sophocles. Vonnegut's names though, seem a bit more just random. I wasn't able to find any correlations to other works as much with him or who might have influenced his works.
I don't know that I fully understand either piece thoroughly. It seems their is something I'm missing with the visuals and clumsy syntax, yet maybe it just draws my attention to the verge of obsession.
I feel that these two pieces by Pynchon and Vonnegut do a great job at helping the reader realize that the author is present in the piece. One way that Pynchon displayed this was the irony between the secrecy of the IA. It is very ironic that Pynchon himself has spent most of his life writing in secrecy to the point that his most recent photograph is the picture from his high school year book. We can also see how the author skips around to a few different stories all within the confines of the major story at hand. For example, during the scene where the executive was preparing to ignite himself, it appeared as though the author took over telling the story from his personal viewing of the scene. It was once again ironic that burning was the same way that the old man died.
ReplyDeleteIn Vonnegut's piece, we seee the irony between his life as a prisoner of war and the way that he basically mocks America as being a great nation. It seemed that he was making a point that though America claims freedom it isn't really free. In addition, we can also see the author in the style of writing. Later in his life he turned toward humor and we can see that style throughout this piece.
It’s funny that you should ask about author-presence in these two pieces because this is actually something that I noticed at first read. More particularly, when Pynchon is describing the man preparing to ignite himself. I actually did not prefer the massive amount of author presence in this passage, as it seemed to take away from the story itself. He was most definitely an impartial observer to the event, but he tends to mix between too much author presence, and not enough. More particularly, the characters. We are rarely given any sort of information or insight to the characters themselves, rather they are sort of left up to reader interpretation, like we are meant to have to think about what each character represents and stands for.
ReplyDeleteVonnegut’s style was greatly appreciated by me. I really liked the way he seemed to present a “smart-ass” style in his work, while at the same time using that sarcasm/ass-hole-esque quality to poke holes in modernism and break through into postmodernism.
“I am programmed at fifty to perform childishly - to insult ‘The Star Spangled Banner,’ to scrawl pictures of a Nazi flag and an asshole and a lot of other things with a felt-tipped pen. To give an idea of the maturity of my illustrations for this book, here is my picture of an asshole:”
In this particular chapter of Breakfast of Champions, Kurt Vonnegut constantly reminds us of his presence. He directly confronts the reader as author, not narrator, as in the passage where he ironically writes about creating characters for his novels and how he feels about the very book itself. He questions himself "What do I myself think of this particular book? I feel lousy about it."
ReplyDeleteIn this small chapter of Breakfast of Champions, Vonnegut dedicates the novel to an important influence on him. He dedicates the book to Phoebe Hurty, a widow who showed him how to be impolite and likely tought him to question American culture and history. Vonnegut continues by retelling American History in a brief couple of paragraphs, including sketches, in a perfect postmodern manner. He is highly, and justly, critical of the typical version of American history tought by teachers across the country.
Vonnegut's personal reflection at the beginning of the chapter about getting depressed and feeling lousy about his books might be an allusion to how he feels about America's history. In this short chapter Vonnegut experiments with different forms of narration and manages to fluidly seperate author, narrotor, and the narration of the story.
In the Crying of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon created a detective story full of mystery which doesn't seem to resolve. Pynchon's story is also critical of aspects of American life and portrays people as machines.
Response to Pychon and Vonnegut:
ReplyDeleteStarting with “The Crying Lot 49,” Pynchon does not seem as outwardly present in the text as Vonnegut is in his excerpt. While reading, I found myself trying to make sense of everything, having feelings of familiarity, but no real sense of understanding. As the introduction to the piece states, “It is a strange book in that the more we learn the more mysterious everything becomes.” I get a feel for the author's presence through character names and the names of other things within the book. Characters like Genghis Cohen, Mucho Maas, and Hilarius leave the reader with a strong sense that these are made up names from the author, not just some interesting name that could exist. In addition the readers learn of a town called San Narciso, a fictional town somewhat relative in name to San Francisco, a real city along with Fresno, where some of the story takes place. So, there is a feeling of a reality, what the readers know as reality, mixed with this fictitious alternate world that Pychon creates. And this creation is done in a way that reminds us of what we know of our environment and is perhaps similar, but is far from it at the same time.
In Vonnegut's “Breakfast of Champions,” the reader gets a decent dose of humor and sarcasm throughout, starting with the first paragraph's disclaimer to General Mills. Even when the author is telling the disheartening story two characters from a broken America, it comes off as if the readers were children listening to a bedtime story. It was a close resemblance, I felt, to that of Jack Handy in the way it was delivered. Vonnegut offers a personal touch to this piece as he incorporates his own life and thoughts into the book as if he is spontaneously jotting them down on paper as he goes, marking each new point with an arrow. The drawings add to the presence of the author's personality, and, although they seem random, supplement the text quite well, leaving a lasting visual reference.
Response:
ReplyDeleteI've noticed in several of the comments people express their interest in the character's name's, particularly the names Pynchon creates. Odd naming is a technique frequently used in picaresque (sprawling odysseys)novels to allow the reader to remember who's who. In picaresques, often hundreds of characters appear, (Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow boasts a cast of about 500); it'd be nearly impossible to remember if they were given names like Smith, Stevens, etc. Some of the stranger names in Pynchon include Tyrone Slothrop (an acronym for "sloth or entropy"), Pig Bodine, and Benny Profane. This technique isn't exactly new either, Dickens for example came up with some off the oddest I've heard, such as Jarndyce (pun on Jaundice), Gradgrind, and Choakum. Ishmael Reed does essentially the same in his novels--consider Zozo, Loop Garoo Kid, and Mr. Happy Times.
In the case of Charles Dickens, his creations are often called "caricatures," rather than characters, but with Pynchon, and possibly Reed, the characters are often thought of more as philosophical concepts, which in some way seems to be a misreading. In some ways, I think this use of clever names to make characters memorable is likely a reflection on an impersonal sort of society, where there isn't much of an option to really know more than a handful of people (example: main characters vs. ancillary characters).
Response - People mentioned the authors almost coming out of the piece explaining and giving more in depth insight from their point of view, yet still leaving it open for interpretation. This is done both with the interruptions within the text, as well as the visuals. There were a lot in the write-ups about the names. I think that with similar names to previous works and historical characters it helps form Vonnegut and Pynchon's characters around what the reader already has reference to. Names like Genghis Cohen, relating to Genghis Khan; Oedipa, like Oedipus Rex. These seem to form the characters in my mind differently based on my experience with other works of literature.
ReplyDeleteThe use of clever names for characters to describe them is a creative way to make a name stick in your head. It can be utilized literature just like a nickname is in real-life. Nicknames and odd naming is something that I have always enjoyed in literature as in growing up. In Woody Guthrie's book Bound for Glory you find character's such as Pee Wee and Curly with obvious physical connotations. In Kerouac's On the Road he refers to Allen Ginsberg as Carlo Marx with the possible intention to show how influencial or revolutionary he has been on American culture. Another character in On the Road is Montana Slim. Many old blues singers and guitarist have similar names such as Mississippi John Hurt, Memphis Slim, and Lightnin' Hopkins.
ReplyDeleteIn everyday living I use odd nicknames for acquaintances to remember who they are. For example, I have a friend who is about six years younger than most of my friends so everybody calls him "Luke the Boy". Other friends of mine are Kierra the Korean, Dinner, Portland Andrew and so on. If I were to write a book including these folks I would probably refer to some of them in this manner.
Pynchon and Vonnegut both continuously keep themselves present throughout their writings by showing their strong opinions. Vonnegut has distaste for cultural differences yet at the same time they are all the same. In saying that, Vonnegut uses the downfalls of each country and emphasizes how the world is doomed by human existence. On the other hand, Pynchon’s work seems hard to read to me and harder to understand. I feel like there are some anti-governmental sub plots. Writing about WASTE, and saying how the government would read it if he writes certain words on the letter. In any means, I found The Crying of lot 49 to be more of a secretive postmodern work that has multiple meanings.
ReplyDeleteThe use of odd names struck me when I was reading the pieces as well, but it didn't really hit me that they fit the prompt we were given until I read these responses. When a strange name is used, such as Oedipa, it makes the reader stop and wonder why the author might have chosen it. It is a perfect example of creating a "rupture and a gap" in the story that "remind the reader an author is present." Thanks for pointing that out.
ReplyDeleteResponse to Jeff:
ReplyDeleteI think the comparison of Vonnegut to Jack Handy was a good one; their styles are very similar. I also agree with you that Breakfast of Champions read like a children's story. It was like a children's story being told a thousand years from now about a long-gone civilization. Almost how we might describe ancient Rome, with everything being put in the simplest terms and talking about only those things that interest us most.
In response to Drewgale:
ReplyDeleteOn pynchon, it is very much a detective/mystery story. It was my first impression other than big words for a sort story. And as interesting as the this story kept me reading, i found Vonneguts child like story to be more fascinating, as it was a quicker read. I did not see what you saw, the historical portion that is. Talking about istory as it unravels. But now that you mention that it sticks out more. And DONT FORGET ABOUT THE ARROWS!!
response to jwwadleigh:
ReplyDeleteI agree that pynchon's peice was a little harder to understand. I owever did not catch the whole narrative part, but re reading the long (over a page) paragraph it seems more like he is present in his writing. And Vonnegut is definately writing a more immature peice, showing the past leading us as you say "robots"
Response to hsteigmann:
ReplyDeleteI agree they do pick some interesting names for their characters. I like their stylistic approach. I fond it easy to read and kept me interested.
Response to chrisbconger
ReplyDeleteNow who could forget about those arrows. And the illustrations which i think gave the piece a little more life.
Response to chappy
ReplyDelete“I am programmed at fifty to perform childishly - to insult ‘The Star Spangled Banner,’ to scrawl pictures of a Nazi flag and an asshole and a lot of other things with a felt-tipped pen. To give an idea of the maturity of my illustrations for this book, here is my picture of an asshole:”
I'm glad that you posted this passage from the piece. I thought that the childlike illustrations, story telling, and blunt honesty was very intriguing. I also thought that the fact that he states his reason for writing this piece was to clear his mind of all the thoughts cluttering his brain that are not of his own, but put there by others from the day he was born. So in a way his criticism of the American ideology is most fitting.