"Maturity" as Told by a Pilgrim

What does Kurt Vonnegut have to say about maturity in Slaughterhouse Five?

Kurt Vonnegut, in his novel Slaughterhouse Five, introduces an antihero protagonist who examples to readers what maturity lacks, as well has its complex relationship with adversity. The audience experiences the life of Billy Pilgrim, who suffers from severe PTSD after experiencing the bombing of Dresden, Germany during World War I. Vonnegut presents a character deeply impacted by trauma, who regresses rather than matures from the adversity he endures. Billy routinely experiences psychological flashbacks that take him away from the current moment he is in, to the point that he is no longer mentally present in reality. Billy describes the moment when he “first came unstuck in time” (Vonnegut, 54), and travels in his mind back to the moment when he was a little boy and first learned to swim. The audiences witnesses as Billy leaves his current situation in the middle of World War I, and reminisces about his "execution" as his dad "was going to throw Billy into the deep end" (54). Then, Billy travels mentally to years past the war, when Billy visits his dying mother who "had caught pneumonia, and wasn't expected to live" (55). Throughout the extent of the novel, Vonnegut tells Billy's life story in fragmented, random parts, with short snippets into the present, as Billy's war-torn mind escapes to other times in his life. The reader struggles to follow this non-chronological pattern, but cannot help noticing that Billy's mind always travels back to the war. Vonnegut describes “crippled human beings” and tragic events (Vonnegut, 191), soldiers who "pranced, staggered and reeled to the gate of the Dresden slaughterhouse" (194), and relays the war through Billy's perspective. He describes that when Dresden was bombed, "the one flame ate everything organic, everything that would burn" (227). This event, when the American troops bombed Germany's city of Dresden, serves as a climactic part of the novel, because it is the moment that sends Billy over the edge. Readers assume that based on the title of the book, which alludes to the name of the shelter in Dresden that Billy stayed in, Dresden's bombing is the event that psychologically damaged Billy to his current and severe state. Billy is desensitized to death, and responds to many horrific deaths with “so it goes” throughout the novel (Vonnegut, 2). After Dresden is bombed, Vonnegut describes that "everybody else in the neighborhood was dead. So it goes." (227). He purposefully repeats this phrase throughout the novel so that it catches the audience's attention, alerting them to a crippling problem. Billy cannot comprehend the weight of death, or of life, because his war experience has overwhelmed him. Billy's mind is like a record player that always scratches in one area, stuck in a pattern that catapults him out of the linear flow of time, and out of reality as well. Billy visits an imaginary planet called Tralfamadore, which is his most obvious coping mechanism. On Tralfamadore, aliens reassure Billy that moments are permanent and can be revisited at any time, which is why death is "just an illusion we have here on earth" (34). According to the Tralfamadorians, a "dead person is in bad condition in that particular moment, but that same person is just fine in plenty of other moments" (34). This line of thinking gives Billy comfort, but escapism is a dangerous tool, and Vonnegut displays that it has no correlation with maturity. Billy's daughter "though her father was senile, even though he was only forty-six-- senile because of damage to his brain" (36). When Billy's wife dies and his son comes back from the war where he served a green beret, Billy is so enslaved to the places he goes in his mind, that he has little response. In fact, "it was generally believed that he was a vegetable" (243). While "Valencia was being put into the ground" (243), Billy's mind "was preparing letters and lectures about the flying saucers, the negligibility of death, and the true nature of time" (243). Billy's adult life is anything but full of mature moments and growth... he is so captured by the idea of Tralfamadore: of a place where all of the pain and suffering life brings is made easier, that he misses crucial moments in his real life. He makes no impact on his children and wife that lead them to respect him. In fact, they must care for him as if he is a child. He embraces a false truth and builds his life upon it, missing real life in the interim. This way of living is impossible to advocate, and requires no integrity or maturity. Escapism and denial sure make the horrors in this world easier to comprehend, but ultimately lead people to miss rich and good moments in their lives, and only backpedal growth.
From his overwhelming amount of flashbacks, it is clear that Billy Pilgrim needs to confront what he went through, because it still plagues him. Billy cannot move on with his life until he addresses the horrible realities he has endured. Through Billy's example, Vonnegut shows that when people experience tragedy, they must confront the truth of what they have endured, or they will be overtaken by their adversities instead of growing because of them. It takes guts to confront our most difficult memories, but if not, how will we ever hope to grow? Vonnegut displays a character who is trapped by trauma, and through this character illustrates that maturity must confront reality and take the time to work through hardship, no matter how difficult. He shows exactly what maturity is not, and reminds readers that someone who is healthy and growing- someone who is mature- lives actively in the present, and sees what is true, although that truth may be difficult to take in. Billy Pilgrim requires real help: probably intensive counseling and years of healing. Yet if Billy does not seek out help, he will never truly be present in his life again, because he is stuck in another world and cannot move forward until he has addressed his traumatic experiences. Mature people do not settle to live enslaved to anything, and strive to be awake to their realities. Shakespeare, Sophocles, Ralph Ellison, and Kurt Vonnegut point out that mature people search for what is true: about themselves and the world around them. Pain must be brought to the surface and made tender again, in order for healing to be possible. If healing never happens, pain will rot within us like a sore that touches everything we do, and we will never become the dynamic individuals we were made to be.

Maturity Unseen

Why is invisibility a sure sign of maturity? Ralph Ellison may know…

Any novel in which a character grows will likely suggest that maturity requires strength, because maturity demands growth, and growth almost always comes from adversity-- and adversity isn’t easy. In his novel Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison displays the weary road that one will inevitably travel as he grows in maturity. This weary road takes strength. In the case of Invisible Man, Ellison’s main character must fight to identify what is true about himself and the world around him in a society that limits him because of his race. Ellison illustrates this when the narrator attends the first successful African American university in America, and learns that even in places known for progression, society remains tainted by corruption and racism. Through the narrator’s story, Ellison depicts a universal truth. The world is full of contradictions, and the road to maturity is messy. However, it is essential that one seeks truth and traverses down that road, even when what he finds opposes society and culture.

Maturity embraces a challenge, as Shakespeare and previous authors have displayed, especially when that challenge proves to be a catalyst for growth. Ellison presents a challenge in his novel that not only grows his narrator, but allows his narrator to find himself. That challenge is this: attempting to discern what is true and what is false in the immaterial sentiments that present themselves in society, amidst the confusion of a selfish and complex human nature. Throughout the novel, the narrator must confront various “group thinks” that claim to promote the truth. One of those “group thinks” comes from the well-known African American university that he attends, and the man who leads it: Dr. Bledsoe. Bledsoe preaches his belief in the African American people, and becomes a figurehead for the entire Civil Rights movement. He promotes that equality among races is possible with perseverance, that his sole mission is to see his African American students succeed in life, and that he himself is proof that with sustained integrity and hope, one can achieve the dream, even with racism present. Naturally, the narrator “believed in the principles of the Founder with all (his) heart and soul, and believed in (the Founder’s) own goodness and kindness” (99), because he had no reason to think differently. The narrator describes that at his college, “in this quiet greenness” (99), he “possessed the only identity (he) had ever known” (99). In this passage, Ellison shows the danger in an organization or group of people who are united around a set of ideals: people find their identity in them. And through this example, Ellison displays the inherent folly in aligning one’s self with a group think: because group thinks are comprised of individuals, they are bound to be corrupt. The narrator trusted in who Dr. Bledsoe was and what he stood for blindly, yet quickly discovers that Dr. Bledsoe lives solely for his own power. When the narrator “bucks against me (Dr. Bledsoe), you are bucking against power, rich white folk’s power, the nation’s power-- which means government power!” (100). The narrator believed in a man with pure intentions, who sought for freedom and equality, and embodied humble character. Yet human nature is not that simple, and certainly not that clean. Through the young narrator’s mistaken belief, Ralph Ellison displays that what appears to be real often differs from what actually is, and maturity must have sharp eyes to spot the difference.

Ellison leads the narrator through various experiences and times of self growth, until he emerges at the end of the novel as one who has grown, and one who is mature. After he has matured and experienced the events of the book, the narrator introduces the concept of “inner eyes, those eyes with which they look through their physical eyes upon reality” (3). (Because the narrator introduces this concept after he has matured, the reader understands the concept of “inner eyes” as an element of maturity). One’s “inner eyes” see past what seems to be, and into what is, and it is through these eyes that a mature person observes the world.  If what is true is what is real, then reality includes all of the selfishness and complexity of human nature, as well as the hope that humans are not reduced to their corrupt nature alone. At the end of the novel, the narrator identifies that “in spite of myself, I have learned some things”  (579). A mature person, despite his own corrupt human nature and the corruption within society, seeks to understand and make sense of the world around him. Even when everyone else sees with their outer eyes, and to them he is invisible. It is better to see what is real than to see what appears to be real, and most of society sees only the appearance. A mature man has no choice but to risk invisibility, if he ever hopes to live a life of substance.

Is He Mature, or Just Strange?

What is Albert Camus's take on maturity in The Stranger?

In light of the previous authors and their viewpoints of maturity, Albert Camus proposes a fascinating and unmatched interpretation of what it means to be mature in his novel The Stranger. Although The Stranger is a younger novel than any of Shakespeare's works, its publication date of 1942 is not so far off that of Tracks, which Louise Erdrich published in 1988. No, Camus's unique interpretation of maturity is not due to its fresh existence as a literary novel itself, but to the author's unique interpretation of life. Along a similar line of thinking as many existentialists, Camus introduces a character whose way of approaching his own world is so logical that no one in his own society understands him. These things about Meursault that separate himself from his peers- both how he thinks and what he does- are proof that a mature person accepts life's disorganized reality instead of fabricating meaning and purpose simply for the sake of feeling secure.
While Shakespeare and Erdrich prompted discussion about life's meaning and a person's purpose in their novels, even illustrating the concept of suicide due to a lack of purpose, never did they propose the idea that one's purpose and meaning in life comes only after an understanding that "nothing, nothing mattered" (Camus, 121). Camus explains that if one does not accept the brutal reality that life is random and his own actions are insignificant, then he is living in falseness. He is living a lie, and a mature person embraces the truth, even if that truth is an uneasy one. When a Chaplain confronts Meursault and attempts to convince him of his belief in God, Camus illustrates this point most clearly. The Chaplain, representing society, asks Meursault whether he really believes that "when you die, you die, and nothing remians?" (117)? Meursault's frank response of "yes" and his utter contentment with his answer knocks the Chaplain off his feet, and spirals him into an attempt to console himself: "No , I refuse to believe you! I know that at one time or another you've wished for another life" (119.) The Chaplain, like all of society, cannot understand how one can look at life without meaning at all, and walk away content. However, Camus does not believe that these other peoples' lives are meaningful, while Meursault's is meaningless. "Everybody knows life isn't worth living" (114), Camus explains, only most people choose to deny it. Thus, those who embrace the truth of reality as Meursault does are estranged, are misunderstood, and are even so far as eradicated because they do not adhere to the lie. At the end of the novel, Meursault's society condemns him to death, because they do not understand him. The idea that life is inherently without meaning, that there is no comforting explanation for the tragedies that may occur or the direction of one's own life, is an extremely difficult one to accept. Camus compares it to a "dark wind" that had been "rising toward (Meursault) from somewhere deep in his future" (121). And when it is realized, the wind "leveled whatever was offered to (Meursault) at the time, in years no more real than the ones (he) was living" (121). According to Camus, truth levels everything, because the truth of reality suggests that nothing is more significant than anything else. If it all is meaningless, then it is all on the same level. It takes maturity to see life for its brutal reality-- it takes strength, but the only other option is to live in foolishness, and Camus stresses that this is worse. For anyone who hopes to be mature, this is not an option. Although Camus's truth is a weighty one, it is not without hope. A life where everything is leveled is an open field, full of possibility up to the creator. When Meursault "opened (himself) to the gentle indifference of the world", he "felt happy" and found the world "like a brother" (122-123). According to Camus, refusing to believe the simple explanations of life that society offers and looking truth in the face is ultimately freeing, and is necessary to live a life of meaning at all. For if one is living a lie, how can he ever hope his life to be worth anything? It is better to accept what is true and run freely than to live confined in the fabricated walls of a lie.
Albert Camus in his novel The Stranger displays reality at its most basic premise: an existence that is disorganized-- one which many try to assign value to using various methods and explanations. In his portrayal of what is true about life, he conveys what is true about maturity: maturity accepts and embraces what is real, no matter how unsettling or difficult the truth may be. Yet Camus offers hope, for in truth there is freedom.