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Mother
Night
is a bit of a departure from the classic Vonnegut milieu:
Instead of a philosophically-tinged laugh riot through space
with absurd aliens and even more absurd humans, Vonnegut grounds
the reader in the very earthly life of Howard J. Campbell,
Jr. At the outbreak of WWII, Campbell becomes a radio announcer,
disseminating propaganda to the public—the German public.
Having been raised in Germany most his life, Campbell has
assimilated into the German culture and the Nazism it purports,
so much so that he rubs elbows with the likes of well-known
Nazis Joseph Goebbels and Adolf Eichmann.
But all
through Campbell's career as a Nazi broadcaster, he was a
spy for the Americans, and his broadcasts were coded with
affected coughs and throat-clearing. However, when he is placed
in an Israeli prison—about to be tried for crimes against
humanity—there appears to be no palpable evidence that
Campbell ever worked for the Americans. Who was the "Blue
Fairy Godmother" who recruited Campbell in the early days
of Germany's aggression? Even if Campbell were a secret agent
for the Allied powers, does that excuse him from his part
in furthering the Nazi cause through his propaganda-choked
broadcasts?
Vonnegut
tells the reader from the start the moral to this, his third
major novel, in the first paragraph of the book's introduction:
This
is the only story of mine whose moral I know. I don't
think it's a marvelous moral; I simply happen to know
what it is: We are what we pretend to be, so we must be
careful about what we pretend to be.
Through
the story of Campbell's life, Vonnegut undercuts the axiomatic
tone of his own introduction, allowing readers to decide for
themselves what the meaning of Campbell's story is. The story
is told in the accused's own words—in an epistolary form—forcing
the reader into Campbell's perspective from the start. However,
the reader is also placed in the role of Campbell's accusers;
the impetus for him to tell his story. Vonnegut plays on the
reader's fluctuating empathies to illustrate the nuances of
personal identity and perception. Is Campbell an American
spy or a Nazi collaborator? What does he see himself as being?
Which of these is ultimately important?
In the
end, there are no easy answers. Vonnegut gives the reader
a wise moral at the book's opening, but readers must decide
for themselves how that moral applies to the life of Howard
J. Campbell, Jr. This is an entertaining and sometimes emotionally
difficult novel, but it provides the reader with an ultimately
important message and battle cry to critical thinking: a message
that spoke to readers when the book was first published in
the midst of the Vietnam conflict—a message that might
be particularly evocative for today's readers interacting
with the global conflicts of today. Moreover, Vonnegut encourages
the reader to take account of one's individual impact on the
world.
(May,
2007)
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