The Color of Many Faces

I believe that the color blue fits perfectly with Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut.  Yes, the fact that the paperback book cover has a tinted turquoise exterior contributes to the selection of blue. And  yes, the fact that the scenery in the book features such blue items as a large “lukewarm sea” and piles of “blue-white …ice-nine” helps as well (259, 238).   But mainly, blue fits with Cat’s Cradle because of the omnipotence of the sentiments of calm and gloom in the book.  Unlike other colors, blue does not have a uniform meaning—it bears some contradictory characteristics.  Some might define blue as a hue of security and protection that provides a soothing aura.  Others perceive blue as a manifestation of loneliness and depression, a shade that can give impetus to great sadness.   Obviously, blue must have a personality disorder, as it oscillates between states of peace and melancholy.  This volatility has a high compatibility with Cat’s Cradle, a novel that chronicles the madness of modern man.  Near the conclusion of the plot, the depressing aspect of blue expresses itself significantly.  After having witnessed the demolition of the planet, Jonah, the narrator, stumbles upon a pit located on the side of Mount McCabe.  Inside the natural geographic bowl, Jonah discerns an immense funeral ground, with “thousands upon thousands of dead” lying strewn about (272).  All of the corpses died from the poisonous ice-nine—a morbid orchestra of mass-suicide.  Vonnegut weaves pathos by invoking an emotion of deep sadness from those who have lost close relatives and friends.  Amidst the chaos of natural disasters and societal degradation, Jonah sees his world literally fall apart in front of his eyes, supporting Vonnegut’s assertion that emptiness occurs after great tragedy.  A myriad of deep blues radiate from this scene: the blue of despair; the blue of defeat, the blue of the unknown.  To alleviate such negative feelings, a lighter, more docile blue emerges from Bokononism, the key religion in Cat’s Cradle that uses “foma” to make people more optimistic (265).  Bokononists believe that man arose from the earth organically.  They use a metaphor of mud to show how God shapes and invigorates matter.  After living a full life, “the mud…goes to sleep” to meet a peaceful eternity (222).   Combating human atrocities with a serene philosophy, humans on Vonnegut’s earth manage to maintain a delicate balance between misery and placidity.  Blue adapts and changes, like water and the sky.  The blue of Cat’s Cradle leaves me content, but morose.  However, as mentioned, that lingering ambivalence should not seem out of the blue.

Ignorance is Bliss?

      When I first started reading Cat’s Cradle, I felt as though Kurt Vonnegut’s exploitation of the human characteristic of ignorance seemed excessive and hyperbolized.  Now, after having reached the second third of my reading, my view has changed—Vonnegut’s satire provides worthwhile insight into human nature.  Angela Hoenikker, the daughter of the infamous Dr. Felix Hoenikker, acts as one such source of valuable insight.   Even though Felix acted as a completely unfit parent and built weapons of mass destruction, Angela continued to regard him as a gallant saint. In order to deal with the absence of a paternal figure in her childhood, Angela tried to deceive herself into thinking her father deserves reverence, respect, and love.  Considering the day the atomic bomb hit Japan a “regular day”, Angela subconsciously attempted to ignore the death and violence her father wrought onto the world (112).  Vonnegut indirectly characterizes Angela as unmindful to underscore her conviction to forget the dark moments of her childhood and to form an illusion that portrayed her father as a hero.  Ironically, in her pursuit to religiously idolize her father, Angela follows his precedent by practicing reckless irresponsibility.  With her “Thermos jugs” in stow wherever she goes, Angela foolishly risks the security of the entire globe by carrying a very hazardous compound created by her father, “ice-nine” (192, 111).    This substance, the ultimate legacy of Felix, possesses the potential to completely freeze the earth’s water supply and in turn eradicate all forms of life.  Entangled in a false reality, whilst transporting the means to desiccate the planet—Angela serves as a synecdoche for the danger of delusion.  While trying to satisfy the simple desire of escaping her “bleak life” and attaining acceptance, the lonely and confused Angela constructs a web of lies to appease her insecurities (180).  And like so many characters in Cat’s Cradle, by blinding herself with abundant fabrications, Angela inadvertently employs the philosophy of Bokononism, the primary religion of the novel that acts as a symbol for artificial hope.   Concerning human nature’s inclination towards falsities and dreams, I find it appropriate to state a tenet of mankind seen throughout history:  Humans believe what they want to believe.  A dream may indeed lack personal truths, but it offers an escape from feeling any emotion intensely.  Apathy beats pain, suffering, and dismal happiness any day.

The Danger of Innocence

In Kurt Vonnegut’s novel Cat’s Cradle, I like the character Dr. Felix Hoenikker the least, due to his blatant indifference.  A recurrent pattern appears with Felix throughout the early chapters: even though he never intentionally tries to harm those around him, Felix somehow manages to.    The reason for this seemingly accidental destruction stems from his infantile aloofness.  Caught up in the whimsy of scientific discovery, Felix did not pay a dime of attention to his children, or even the inhabitants of the globe for that matter.  Ordered by a military general to solve the problem of profuse mud on war battlegrounds, Felix inadvertently creates a compound that could”’end of the world’’’ if released into a source of liquid (50).  Vonnegut portrays Felix as the epitome of a researcher who looks for complex answers, but does not consider the implications of his successes outside of the laboratory.  Like a child playing with toys—precarious toys, Felix obsesses over gadgetry and technology, and takes not a care for his surroundings.  As salesman Marvin Breed summarized, there does not exist a man “less interested in the living” than Felix (68). Vonnegut constructs logos by making the claim that scientists tend to remove themselves from personal relationships in order to better dedicate their time to their rigorous profession.  Unfortunately for the human race in Cat’s Cradle, Vonnegut takes this generalization to the extreme in Felix.  The father of the atomic bomb does not exhibit moral obligations or accountability whatsoever.  For instance, because of his inability to think lucidly about every-day menial tasks, he carelessly left his vehicle in the middle of a traffic intersection, which consequently led to the infliction of a mortal wound on his wife when she went to drive the immobile car out of harm’s way.  Felix “was [the reason] why she died” (31).  Felix’s reaction?   He kept tinkering away at his projects, his attitude unaffected by the loss.  Felix helped to decimate thousands of people by his working on the atomic bomb, and emotionally scarred millions more, his family included.  And yet, no mal-intent originates from Felix, and that very fact frustrates me most.  The innocence Felix maintained, compounded with the mass weaponry he produced, serves as a mind-numbing oxymoron.  Without the tools of empathy and commiseration, Felix evolved into an entity more mechanical than human.  I find it hard to like a character that has acquiesced his soul and personality to the field of science.