Rohinton Mistry's Book A Fine Balance and 12 Years a Slave and How They Make Me Think Differently About Kindred

I just watched 12 Years a Slave and it really changed my perspective on Kindred. In many ways, Butler glosses over the most horrifying aspects of slavery by creating this complicated relationship between the main character and the slave master. In order for slavery to work, slaves had to be very dehumanized, but Butler mainly focusses on the relationship between Dana and Rufus in which Rufus cares about her underneath all of his selfishness and cruelty. The other relationship that Butler focusses on a lot is the one between Rufus and Alice, in which Rufus also deeply cares about her even if he is really terrible to her.  Most slave masters had to have thought of their slaves as animals to continue living the way they did, and Kindred really doesn't capture this. In 12 Years a Slave, the relationship between Edwin Epps, the slavemaster, and Pattsie, a slave girl, is interesting to contrast to the relationship between Rufus and Alice. Whereas Alice is at least awknowledged as a human and often says her opinions to Rufus's face, Pattsie never seems to be allowed to speak with Epps and he is so possessive of her that when she goes to another plantation to get some soap (because his wife has been depriving her of basic goods), he whips her senseless. 

I also just finished reading A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry which is a really long and depressing and eloquent and probably one of the best books I've ever read. It follows the lives of four different people and it's mostly set in the Emergency in India in the 70's when the prime minister of India declared a state of emergency after it was discovered that she'd rigged the elections. This was a a way for her to buy time so she could stay in office. What happened as a result was a series of projects such as clearing out the slums which meant throwing very poor people out of their homes and reclaiming the property for the government, and then "city beautification" which meant essentially kidnapping beggars off the street (many of them freshly beggared after being kicked out of the slums) and "employing" (really enslaving) them to do hard labor in exchange for minimal food and very poor living conditions (with many people forced to live in one small badly built tin house without running water or electricity). I learned so much history from reading this book, and it was especially powerful growing to love these characters that were undergoing such horrors. The previous example of people being forced to do slave labor is an example of very recent slavery, and there was nothing personal about it unlike the way Kindred depicts Dana's relationship with Rufus. These people were considered next to animals because of their low caste and were treated as such which allowed the higher powers to guiltlessly subject them to horrible conditions.  In many ways, I feel like Kindred glosses over the harsher aspects of slavery by creating these very complicated relationships with Rufus that many slaves probably did not experience. Slaves usually have to give up so much human dignity, and by making Rufus care about Dana and Alice, Butler erases the most horrifying aspect of slavery.

There must have been some instances of slave masters having very complicated personal relationships with their slaves, but they were probably exceptions, and I worry that focussing too much on these kinds of stories like Kindred does, glosses over the more realistic kinds of slavery that are extremely brutalizing and require a complete denial of the humanity of the slaves in order for people to accept that these people can be treated so horribly.

Rereading Octavia E. Butler's Kindred

OK, so I accidentally already read Kindred over Christmas Break or Thanksgiving Break or last summer or I don't remember when, and I realize that's a terrible thing to do because now I know how the whole book ends and I'll probably be tempted to blurt out spoilers during class discussions, BUT whatever. I really enjoyed reading it the first time around and it was hard to put down, but now that I'm reading it for a second time, I'm less captivated. With Slaughterhouse-Five, it was the opposite. The first time around, I missed a lot, and the second time around, I discovered all these layers of themes and sub-themes and Vonnegut genius. But Kindred feels so plot-driven, it's as if once the plot is revealed, there's not much left to discover upon rereading it. I'm trying not to be a pessimist about this, because I really do think it's a good book, so I'll just focus on the major part of the book that I think is pretty neat: Rufus's character development. But no spoilers!! So, I'll just start with what we have to work with in the first few chapters.

Prologue

Although we don't get much on Rufus's personality, the really important detail is how affectionately he interacts with his mother upon being rescued by Dana when he's drowning. He clearly really loves her and depends on her, and we can see why when our first glimpse of his dad is him pointing a huge rifle at Dana.

Chapter Two

Rufus is probably about eight or nine, and he's described as "curious and unafraid." He's easy to talk to and interacts agreeably enough with Dana. He uses the n-word but doesn't seem to mean any harm by it, simply repeating what he's heard his parents say. He tries to set the house on fire because his father beat him horribly for taking a dollar (which is also the kind of baseless punishment that slave masters were accustomed to inflicting upon their slaves).  He's good friends with Alice, a black girl born free, and he shows empathy towards Dana, concerned in particular that she'll get in trouble with his father if she doesn't follow the rules. Dana describes him as likable even if "his environment had left unlikable marks on him."And he helps her to safety, directing her towards Alice's house.

So, he seems agreeable enough, but does someone like Rufus who is raised to be slave owner really have a chance at growing up to be a decent person? Dana's influence seems like it could make a big difference, but will it be enough to dissuade him from going along with societal norms that tell him he is entitled to own other human beings and do what he wants with them like his father does?

Is Tralfamadore a metaphor for Billy Pilgrim's culture shock?

The first time I read Slaughterhouse-Five, I was convinced that the Tralfamadorians were some sort of metaphor for Billy Pilgrim coming into contact with a more European perspective. The reason I thought this is because the first time he sees the Tralfamadorians, it's when he's in Europe, and their ideas revolve around the interlocking themes of collectivism and predestination that are more European. For example, the Tralfamadores dismiss Pilgrim's individualism early on when he asks "Why me?" Why anyone?And their ideas about no one having free will stray from the American dream of individuals having the free will to create something of themselves. In contrast, a more European perspective might take on the collectivist attitude of seeking to uplift the masses rather than individuals, as has been accomplished with many of the social safety nets put in place in European countries. I thought Vonnegut was highlighting the culture shock of being in Europe for the first time by making aliens of the Europeans. (That could also be a commentary on how we distance ourselves from our enemies for the purposes of war, making them so foreign, so inhuman, and so easy to kill, as if to be almost alien.)

But reading this book for the second time around, I don't really think that. I feel like Vonnegut would have dropped more hints for the reader. At best, the Tralfamadorians are intended to slightly parallel the culture shock he is experiencing and has experienced (and always will experience), but I'm not sure Pilgrim really experiences much of the Germans and other Europeans he comes into contact with. There are the doctors who are appalled by the Americans' treatment of the horses after the bombing of Dresden, and there's the merciful German "mop-up" crew, but when would Pilgrim have had the chance to learn about them so intimately without having engaged in real conversations with them? On the other hand, being a prisoner of war of the Germans must have been very intimate in its own way.

IN CONCLUSION, I don't really have a conclusion. I'm still kind of captivated by the idea the the Tralfamadores might be metaphor for Pilgrim's culture shock because it presents a side of war that is often ignored. During wars, people are being thrust into completely different countries with different languages and customs, and this aspect of war is almost completely ignored. It would be so Vonnegut to focus on this neglected aspect of war, and the way it draws out a certain level of cultural awareness. Which is very ironic considering the idea of war is to obliterate the opposing culture.

Free Will And If You Have Any You Probably Won't Choose to Read Such a Long Post Or Maybe The Moment Is Just Structured This Way

This is my second time reading Slaughterhouse-Five and what has captivated me the most both times is Vonnegut's insights on social class, pointing out the injustices of the maldistribution of wealth in America. The overarching theme of no one really having free will undermines the argument that people who are rich deserve to rich, because they haven't really *earned* anything: everything gained is a multitude of structured moments. This also implies that people who are low income do not deserve to be poor. They are merely victims of fate.

An interesting passage where we see a discussion of America's maldistribution of wealth is an excerpt from the works of Howard W. Campbell Jr. Side note: Howard W. Campbell Jr. is trans-fictional because he was the protagonist of one of Vonnegut's other books, Mother Night.

America is the wealthiest nation on Earth, but its people are mainly poor, and poor Americans are urged to hate themselves. To quote the American humorist Kin Hubbard, "It ain't no disgrace to be poor, but it might as well be." It is in fact a crime for an American to be poor, even though America is a nation of poor. Every other nation has folk traditions of men who were poor but extremely wise and virtuous, and therefore more estimable than anyone with power and gold. No such tales are told by the American poor. They mock themselves and glorify their betters. The meanest eating or drinking establishment, owned by a man who is himself poor, is very likely to have a sign on its wall asking this cruel question: "If you're so smart, why ain't you rich?" There will also be an American flag no larger than a child's hand-- glued to a lollipop stick and flying from the cash register. (Vonnegut 164)

Campbell Jr. then goes on to say "This inward blame has been a treasure for the rich and powerful who have had to do less for their poor, publicly and privately, than any other ruling class, since, say, Napoleonic times." This is one of my favorite parts of Slaughterhouse-Five because of how spot-on this American-turned-Nazi's insights are on America's perceptions of the poor. First of all, Vonnegut's portrayal of an enemy being very logical supports his aims to make an anti-war book because a traditional story about war would make the enemy into an evil cartoonish character that sees no reason whatsoever. But what I really like about it is how well it fits in with Vonnegut's theme of people not really having free will. I take his meaning more as an acknowledgment of how the individual cannot be blamed or given credit for every moment of their life, and that we take for granted all the things that happen outside of our power. He even specifically addresses the problem with Americans believing in free will too fully, when Campbell Jr. writes, "Their (Americans') most destructive untruth is that it is very easy for any American to make money. They will not acknowledge how in fact hard money is to come by, and therefore, those who have no money blame and blame themselves." He's right: money is very hard to come by, especially if you're born into dire poverty or your mentally disabled or a number of other things that are left entirely up to chance.

This is where the true insight lies in Vonnegut's discussion of free will. Even things that we do that clearly seem to be acts of free will can be traced back to things out of our control. For example, say you're proud that were accepted to Harvard and this clearly seems the result of Your Hard Work and Dedication, but would you have been accepted to Harvard if your parents hadn't been born to wealthy parents who gave you the best education, cultural capital, and paid for your mission trip to Senegal which inspired you to write that heart-melting college essay? And being born to those parents has nothing to do with free will. And say instead that your parents were dirt poor but you were just ridiculously smart, and sought out the works of Foucault and Nussbaum in your free time to feed your insatiable intellect. But you could just have easily not been born a genius, so where's the free will in that?

Of course there's a lot about the world that is obviously the result of free will. But I don't think that's Vonnegut's point. In juxtaposition with Campbell Jr.'s monograph, he presents the case (or maybe just leaves it up for grabs) that Americans give too much credit to free will and the idea that everything we do is a result of free will. Because really so much of our lives is based on the bodies and minds we're born with. It may seem like a depressing thought, but it actually could offer insight to a lot of Americans with so little empathy for the poor. I was just watching an interview with 'Fox Business' Commentator, Todd Wilemon, and he responded to comments about Tennessee's "third world healthcare" by saying, "IF YOU'RE POOR, STOP BEING POOR." I think this perfectly illustrates how Americans act like everyone has the free will to do anything. And believing this doesn't make it true. In fact it takes away a lot of free will from people who might have the free will to make more decisions for themselves if offered a little help instead of immediately being expected to miraculously exert their "free will" and as Wilemon proposed, "stop being poor." Maybe the American vision of free will is just too individualistic and doesn't sufficiently acknowledge the power of an entire system exerting its free will to make important changes. Now I've gone off on a tangent, and maybe I've strayed too far from Vonnegut, but at least he was my muse.

Mumbo Jumbo Follow-Up

Here is an interesting excerpt from Mumbo Jumbo which shows a little bit of Ishmael Reed's discussion of Islam (Reed 35):

You are no different from the Christians you imitate. Atonists Christians and Muslims don't tolerate those who refuse to accept their modes. 

 Some of the people who were listening have decided that it's 1 of those discussions and have drifted away. 

Christianity? What has that to do with me?  

They are very similar, 1 having derived from the other. Muhammed seems to have wanted to impress Christian critics with his knowledge of the bible, LaBas continues.  They agree on the ultimate wickedness of woman, even using feminine genders to describe disasters that beset mankind. Terming women cattle, unclean. The Koran was revealed to Muhammed by Gabriel the angel of the Christian apocalypse. Prophets in the Koran: Abraham Isaac and Moses were Christian prophets; each condemns the Jewish people for abandoning the faith; realizing that there has always been a pantheistic contingent among the "chosen people" not reluctant to revere other gods. The Virgin Mary figures in the Koran as well as in the Bible. In fact, 1 night you were reading a poem to the Black woman. It occurred to me that though your imagery was with the sister, the heart of you work was with the Virgin. 

You'd better be careful with your critique Papa LaBas, Abdul replies. Remember "He that worships other gods besides Allah shall be forbidden to Paradise and shall be cast into the fires of Hell."  

Precisely, Black Herman replies. Intolerant just as the Christians are. 

This passage clashes completely with Reed's tendency to lump Islam in with this vague idealized conception of Afro-centric culture. Here, Reed presents the perspective that Islam shares many Atonist features, and that it deliberately mimics Atonist characteristics. This is in stark contrast with the part of the book where Reed sets up the Crusades as a battle between the Atonists and the non-Atonists, and makes the book a lot more interesting, because it highlights the overlap between Reed's dichotomy of the world. It leaves room for complexities and loop holes.

And Abdul seems to realize that it's because of the way his identity exists in the overlap, he has a special role to play. He tells Papa LaBas that people like him will live in seclusion and only a select few will read him and they will pride themselves in their selectiveness whereas Abdul's "chimerical art" will survive. He says it will be people like himself that will "get it across" in such a way that the masses will understand.