It's as if the novel's theme of history repeating itself manifests in the controversies the Kurt Vonnegut book has caused over the years
Inside the pages of Slaughterhouse-Five, a master of ceremonies asks people to explain the function of the novel in modern society. It’s a scene that the school board of Republic High School in southwestern Missouri may have glazed over, or didn’t appreciate, or simply didn’t read, when they recently voted 4-0 to ban Kurt Vonnegut’s 1969 novel from their curriculum and pull it from the library’s shelves.
A novel’s purpose, according to the passage:
“One critic said, ‘To provide touches of color in rooms with all-white walls.’ Another one said, ‘To describe blow-jobs artistically.’ Another one said, ‘To teach wives of junior executives what to buy next and how to act in a French restaurant.’”
The function of Slaughterhouse-Five has long been as a teaching tool in American classrooms. The book’s protagonist, Billy Pilgrim, is based on a real American soldier who was held as a prisoner during World War II. During this traumatic period, Pilgrim becomes “unstuck in time” as a result of shell-shock. He is doomed to relive moments of his life over and over again.
As a literary device, this was a way for Vonnegut to “impress upon readers that we keep making the same mistake and it doesn’t have to be that way,” says Julia Whitehead, the executive director of the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library.
Somehow, though, we find ourselves repeatedly in the same predicaments. Since it was published, Slaughterhouse-Five has been banned or challenged on at least 18 occasions. And the rhetoric around each case appears to be, like Billy Pilgrim, “unstuck in time.” When the book was stricken from the public schools of Oakland County, Michigan in 1972, the circuit judge called it “depraved, immoral, psychotic, vulgar, and anti-Christian.” In 1973 the Drake Public School Board in North Dakota set 32 copies aflame in the high school’s coal burner. A few years later, the Island Trees school district of Levittown, New York—in an area once known as Jerusalem—removed Slaughterhouse-Five and 8 other books from its high school and junior high libraries. Board members called the books “anti-American, anti-Christian, anti-Semitic, and just plain filthy.” In the 1982 Board of Education v. Pico trial, the U.S. Supreme court ruled 5-4 against the board's restriction, citing a violation of the First Amendment. But even as that case was being decided, more districts continued to face challenges to the novel’s place in schools.
“People want something they can control when times are changing,” Jones says. “When times are hard, people get anxious about traditional values.”
So there was a familiar ring to things when a man named Wesley Scroggins in Republic, Missouri offered his views in the Springfield News-Leader last fall. An associate professor at Missouri State University who home-schools his own children, Scroggins warned against certain books taught in the district. “It is time parents and taxpayers in this school district are informed about this material,” he wrote. But not the 1,164 students of Republic High.
“This is a book that contains so much profane language, it would make a sailor blush with shame,” he wrote of Slaughterhouse-Five. “The ‘f word’ is plastered on almost every other page. The content ranges from naked men and women in cages together so that others can watch them having sex to God telling people that they better not mess with his loser, bum of a son, named Jesus Christ.”