Breakfast of Champions
Ah, Breakfast of Champions. I experienced one of these winning meals only two weeks ago--when I went temporarily insane and voluntarily ran 3 miles before bottomless brunch. Things were poppin off for the LGBT pride parade (woop woop), so I heartily downed several mimosas while we waited 2 hours for our food. I’m too little for that nonsense, so I ended up like this:
This Vonnegut novel turned out much better than my embarrassing afternoon. Published in 1973, it came after his acclaimed works Cat's Cradle and Slaughterhouse-Five. So, he capitalized on his previous fictional characters that readers already knew and loved. For instance, Kilgore Trout is a minor character in Slaughterhouse-Five and now he’s a main character in Breakfast of Champions. Trout is a profuse writer, though not successful by conventional standards, who creates outlandish science fiction tales. His stories provide little books within this big book. As a treat.
Trout eventually collides with another main character—Dwayne Hoover, a wealthy Pontiac dealer who loses his marbles. Not in the sense that he’ll have a difficult time playing Mancala… he literally becomes deranged.
Vonnegut himself is an actively involved character who comically interjects himself into his own book! In past novels, he consistently mocks “the Creator of the Universe”. Here, in a *meta* sense, he is the Creator of the Universe, acting as a puppeteer to guide what characters do and say. Yet admittedly, the characters sometimes shock him and don’t act exactly according to plan. SoOoOoOo we have the ingredients for a deep discussion on determinism. Hook me up with some philosophical soup.
In classic Vonnegut fashion, Breakfast of Champions addresses free will or lack thereof. Some of those ways include:
The notion that human beings are specifically programmed machines. Perhaps, there is a sacred part in each of us that is not dictated by machinery—our individual awareness. But perhaps not!
The belief that humans are controlled by consumerism. In the name of “progress”, we are inevitably bombarded by advertisements, which we use to navigate life. As machines, we take in data (the cereal box says the cereal tastes good) and spew out formulaic responses (this cereal tastes good).
The impression that ideas are transmitted, augmented, and belittled not by the basis of their merit, but because of friendship/enmity. Truth becomes relative because friends agree with friends and enemies disagree with enemies, thus rendering certain ideas “common sense” in some circles and their opposing ideas “common sense” in others.
Vonnegut’s use of foreshadowing. As the Creator of the Breakfast of Champions universe, he knows how the book is going to end and he repeatedly tells us what will happen before it actually does.
The erratic nature of his text, with page breaks and intermittent drawings. This novel has a bunch of felt-tip pen illustrations. They’re simple but funky and I’m into them.
The possibility that Vonnegut, like Kilgore Trout, is writing this novel for an alien race. He often refers to “planet Earth” or “the wrecked planet” in a detached manner that implies he is speaking to an audience unfamiliar with the world’s structure. Just like we find Trout’s stories of alien activity slightly ridiculous, viewing our planet from an outsider’s perspective sheds light on our more peculiar habits and how we view ourselves as “free”.
These metaphors and themes unload a series of questions on readers. Are we unknowingly squandering our free will? Does embracing the concept of free will lead to constructive activity or demise? Is there space for individual creativity in a world devoid of free will? Can alcohol as both a social and private lubricant change our machinery or chemical composition such that it enables or inhibits autonomy? What is the appropriate role of government and environmentalism in a universe dictated by determinism? As usual, Vonnegut leaves me with more questions than I have answers. While I’m tempted to demand that his grandiose ideas need more elaboration, he himself confesses that writing this book simply helped him “clear [his] head of all the junk in there” (Vonnegut, 5). He might have some well-articulated opinions on the subject but that doesn’t necessarily lead to concrete solutions. For instance, I love when he forces readers to deal with the ugly facts of life by framing situations in pure, simplistic terms. He satirically strips away all of the excess fluff and reaches the core, nagging concern behind a phenomenon to expose its absurdities. At one point, he states, “Viet Nam was a country where America was trying to make people stop being communists by dropping things on them from airplanes” (Vonnegut, 88). This is a perfect example of how Vonnegut addresses intense subjects—usually involving oppression—without directly giving us “the answer” to the problem. Instead, he equips us with ways of thinking; he arms us with a manner of seeing the world that makes it tolerable to live in a place where oppression exists.
Honestly, Vonnegut should be required reading. I give Breakfast of Champions 5 out of 5 flames.
PS: I’ve reviewed some more Vonnegut books since this original review. Use that magical search feature and check ‘em out.
If you enjoyed this review, please consider purchasing this book from my Amazon Associates link: https://amzn.to/2NBHE8f. Or buy this Vonnegut collection to get more bang for your buck. The commissions I receive from your purchase help pay for the costs of running this website. Thanks for your support!
