"That's most interesting. But I was no more a mind-reader then than today. I was weeping for an altogether different reason. When I watched you dancing that day, I saw something else. I saw a new world coming rapidly. More scientific, efficient, yes. More cures for the old sicknesses. Very good. But a harsh, cruel world. And I saw a little girl, her eyes tightly closed, holding to her breast the old kind world, one that she knew in her heart could not remain, and she was holding it and pleading, never to let her go. That is what I saw. It wasn't really you, what you were doing, I know that. But I saw you and it broke my heart. And I've never forgotten."
- Madame, Never Let Me Go
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Our leaders had carte blanche as to what they might or might not destroy. Their mission was to win the war as quickly as possible; and while they were admirably trained to do just that, their decisions on the fate of certain priceless world heirlooms – in one case, Dresden – were not always judicious. When, late in the war, with the Wehrmacht breaking up on all fronts, our planes were sent to destroy this last major city, I doubt if the question was asked: "How will this tragedy benefit us, and how will that benefit compare with the ill-effects in the long run?"
Dresden, a beautiful city, built in the art spirit, symbol of an admirable heritage, so anti-Nazi that Hitler visited it but twice during his whole reign, food and hospital centre so bitterly needed now – ploughed under and salt strewn in the furrows.
There can be no doubt that the allies fought on the side of right and the Germans and Japanese on the side of wrong. World War Two was fought for near-holy motives. But I stand convinced that the brand of justice in which we dealt, wholesale bombings of civilian populations, was blasphemous. That the enemy did it first has nothing to do with the moral problem. What I saw of our air war, as the European conflict neared an end, had the earmarks of being an irrational war for war’s sake. Soft citizens of the American democracy had learnt to kick a man below the belt and make the bastard scream.
The occupying Russians, when they discovered that we were Americans, embraced us and congratulated us on the complete desolation our planes had wrought. We accepted their congratulations with good grace and proper modesty, but I felt then, as I feel now, that I would have given my life to save Dresden for the world’s generations to come. That is how everyone should feel about every city on earth.
- Kurt Vonnegut, “Wailing Shall Be in All Streets”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I once asked you a simple question: how can we get better without losing who we are?
When we read things like Letter from Birmingham Jail, we’re reminded of the sheer enormity of the problems our parents’ generation began to conquer. We have gotten better. But we’re also reminded that the problems haven’t been solved, and we’ve changed along the way.
Moreover, when we read Slaughterhouse-Five, Never Let Me Go, or even “Just One Thing Missing” (that’s for Finals day), we become painfully aware that the problems we’ll face aren’t getting any simpler. If anything, they’re getting more complicated. War, science, progress, conservation – nothing seems simple.
In “Picking Up Pieces,” I asked you about your snake-skins, the identities you won’t stop forging for years. Now I want you to consider not a snake-skin, but a tapestry – the tapestry of our society, of our world, with so many threads tied together, and with so many others dangling loosely, threatening to unravel the whole thing if someone gives them a good tug.
Interpretations of books shift over the years as society shifts around them, much like the flow of water around a stone in the middle of a river shifts depending on the weather. I submit that both Slaughterhouse-Five and Never Let Me Go will remain relevant, not only in our current day and age, but in the future, because they’re about the tapestry’s dangling threads, about the edges of our way of life that threaten to fray unless someone safeguards them.
By that, I mean that they’re not just about the dangers of our new world. They’re also about remembering to value certain things. For example, both books appear to be about atrocity, but I think it’s more accurate to say they’re about kindness – the responsibilities humans have to their fellow beings, and the connections we can't help but forge.
I’m not sure how future generations will read either one. The books may be static, like the rock in the river, but they ask difficult questions and leave them unsolved. Meanwhile, the world keeps rushing on.
Which aspects of Slaughterhouse-Five and Never Let Me Go will maintain their relevance as we move forward? Which pertain to the problems you wish to solve? And how do you think future generations will read them – as curiosities, prophecies, or something in between?
Please compose your responses in a Word document over the next twenty minutes; you will submit the document to turnitin.com when you have finished. Good luck!
