Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut
By some computer quirk I have been assigned two books in succession by Kurt Vonnegut, whose books I had not read until now. I thought, a few days ago, when writing my brief review of Slaughterhouse Five, that the science fiction framework--time travel, invaders from outer space--was unfortunate; I think so even more on reflection. I believe it undermines the important subject of the book, which is war, centered around the bombing of Dresden. Breakfast of Champions also has a flaw: I think that the author's inserting himself into the story toward the end is awkward and pointless. But it does less damage here. Breakfast of Champions is a satire. Unlike Slaughterhouse Five it does not have an important subject, let alone a thesis. Vonnegut satirizes everything under the sun--sex, politics, racism, religion, pollution; the list is endless. He satirizes things by describing them in ways that make them appear ridiculous, and he is often very funny, but he does not set up anything to take their place; he is not offering solutions. In this regard the writer whom he most resembles is Voltaire, who works much the same way.
In calling this a very funny book I am merely repeating what virtually everyone agrees, and in pointing out a resemblance to Voltaire I am again pointing out the obvious. There are other writers who resemble Vonnegut in some respects, Fielding, for example. Less obvious is his debt to Saki. I do not mean merely that there are stylistic similarities, although there are some. I mean that in Breakfast of Champions Vonnegut covertly uses Saki to ridicule the very substance from which the book takes its title.
Characteristically, Vonnegut denies any such intent. The preface begins: "The expression "Breakfast of Champions" is a registered trademark of General Mills, Inc., for use on a breakfast cereal product. The use of the identical expression as the title for this book is not intended to indicate an association with or sponsorship by General Mills, nor is it intended to disparage their fine products." The same paragraph occurs a second time, about two thirds of the way through the book. That it is disingenuous is obvious: the preface is ostensibly by one Philboyd Studge.
Now, "Filboid Studge" is the name of a breakfast cereal in a story by Saki ("Filboid Studge, or the Story of a Mouse that Helped") and it is described by the executive who is trying to promote it as "that beastly muck." Later in the story we learn that, "Once the womenfolk discovered that it was thoroughly unpalatable, their zeal in forcing it on their households knew no bounds" and, "Those strange fanatics who ostentatiously mortify themselves, inwardly and outwardly, with health biscuits and health garments, battened aggressively on the new food" and, "an infantry regiment mutinied and shot its officers rather than eat the nauseous mess."
The near identity of Saki's "Filboid Studge" and Vonnegut's "Philboyd Studge" cannot possibly be accidental. Surely we are being invited, despite Vonnegut's repeated disclaimer, to associate Wheaties with "that beastly muck."
If you haven't already read Breakfast of Champions you are in for a treat. It is a very funny book, and you may well read it in one or two sittings, as I did.
In calling this a very funny book I am merely repeating what virtually everyone agrees, and in pointing out a resemblance to Voltaire I am again pointing out the obvious. There are other writers who resemble Vonnegut in some respects, Fielding, for example. Less obvious is his debt to Saki. I do not mean merely that there are stylistic similarities, although there are some. I mean that in Breakfast of Champions Vonnegut covertly uses Saki to ridicule the very substance from which the book takes its title.
Characteristically, Vonnegut denies any such intent. The preface begins: "The expression "Breakfast of Champions" is a registered trademark of General Mills, Inc., for use on a breakfast cereal product. The use of the identical expression as the title for this book is not intended to indicate an association with or sponsorship by General Mills, nor is it intended to disparage their fine products." The same paragraph occurs a second time, about two thirds of the way through the book. That it is disingenuous is obvious: the preface is ostensibly by one Philboyd Studge.
Now, "Filboid Studge" is the name of a breakfast cereal in a story by Saki ("Filboid Studge, or the Story of a Mouse that Helped") and it is described by the executive who is trying to promote it as "that beastly muck." Later in the story we learn that, "Once the womenfolk discovered that it was thoroughly unpalatable, their zeal in forcing it on their households knew no bounds" and, "Those strange fanatics who ostentatiously mortify themselves, inwardly and outwardly, with health biscuits and health garments, battened aggressively on the new food" and, "an infantry regiment mutinied and shot its officers rather than eat the nauseous mess."
The near identity of Saki's "Filboid Studge" and Vonnegut's "Philboyd Studge" cannot possibly be accidental. Surely we are being invited, despite Vonnegut's repeated disclaimer, to associate Wheaties with "that beastly muck."
If you haven't already read Breakfast of Champions you are in for a treat. It is a very funny book, and you may well read it in one or two sittings, as I did.