Bluebeard: A Novel (Delta Fiction)

When it comes to literary genius, Kurt Vonnegut reigns supreme. You can't go wrong with his work. His perspective on the world is a delightful blend of humor, honesty, and profound insight that will leave you both entertained and enlightened. Vonnegut weaves stories with a touch of resignation, embracing the unyielding march of time and sharing the worn-out voice of wisdom that only comes from a life well-lived and a wealth of experiences. He sees through the rose-colored glasses of life's promises, acknowledging the truths that many of us prefer to ignore. In "Bluebeard," Vonnegut invites us into the intriguing world of Rabo Karabekian, an eccentric artist who spends his days in the company of his art collection and memories that carry the weight of a challenging upbringing, the legacy of genocide and the lingering specters of departed friends. It's a story that delves into the complexities of aging, of navigating a world that may seem to have moved on without you, or perhaps one that you've intentionally left behind. And through it all, Rabo embarks on a quest to make sense of the bewildering tapestry of life. As you immerse yourself in the pages of "Bluebeard," take a moment to reflect on your journey. How do we navigate the twists and turns of time, grappling with our past, our present, and the uncertain contours of the future? What does it mean to remain alive in a world that is constantly evolving, leaving behind remnants of our former selves? These profound questions, artfully woven by Vonnegut, will linger in your mind long after you've closed the book.

While Breakfast of Champions remains my all time favorite, Bluebeard ranks a close second. The story is a witty and poignant autobiography of Rabo Karabekian, a WWII vet and artist friend of Abstract Expressionists like Jackson Pollock. In a way that it seems only Vonnegut can, sad, depressing characters are interwoven with a satirical wit that produces a cunning commentary on American culture. Like most Vonnegut books, whenever I attempt to convey the plot to a friend (who is unaware of his writing style) they say something like, "oh - that sounds so depressing!" Yet, Vonnegut writes with a trenchant wit that digs below just the character's emotions, to the culture and influences that create such actions. The most intriguing aspect of the plot is Vonnegut's satire on various art movements, as well as the art market. Rabo was initially trained by a horribly haughty painter who painted in a realist style. Upon returning home after WWII, Rabo rejected his tutor's style and became friends with Jackson Pollock and Terry Kitchen (who I had never heard of before, but googled and found that he was a fluxus artist-?). His actions caused his marriage to disintegrate and his two sons to disown him. Similar to his personal life, his paintings, made out of Sateen Dura Luxe, also disintegrate and fall apart, thus destroying his artistic career. His paintings were solid layers of the Dura Luxe on canvas, with small pieces of tape added. While his career and personal life were in shambles, Rabo ended up a very wealthy man. In return for money, his artist friends gave him many of their paintings (which they considered worthless at the time). His enormous collection of Abstract Expressionist paintings was the largest in the world. At the time he is writing his autobiography, Rabo is an old man living alone in a big, empty house in Long Island. While he has given up painting, he has one big secret locked in the potatoe barn behind his house. What makes the Abstract Expressionist works so famous and revered? While Rabo's abstract work, which he clearly has no attachment to, is shown in museums and art history classes, he admits that his most beloved painting will be adored only by the laymen and "common people." Created in a realistic style he says - "It isnt a painting at all! It's a tourist attraction! It's a World's Fair! It's a Disneyland!" Bluebeard satirizes this adoration of "famous" works, forcing you to question and ponder the various definitions of art, and how one work becomes more famous than another. I absolutely loved when Rabo would talk about his "meat" vesus his soul. "My soul didn't know what kind of picture to paint, but my meat sure did."

I don't normally write reviews for books that I've read, but on this one I couldn't remain silent. As good as Slaughterhouse Five was, Bluebeard shows a more mature, well-refined Vonnegut at the top of his game. This is a story that could be considered rags-to-riches on one level, and the supreme failure on another of a famous artist's life. The sarcastic wit and humor so prevelant in Slaugterhouse Five is present here too, but is used in a much more forgiving and less taunting fashion, as if Vonnegut has become more tolerant of his own idiosyncracies late in life. The book is a kinder, gentler Vonnegut with enourmous depth.Without giving away the story, the "big secret at the end of the book" lives up to its billing; in so many books, the "big ending" falls flat. Not so in this case. I was floored, moved, elated, and generaly in awe of the genius of the idea. It made me realize that the helter-skelter events in the main character's life had been anything but; Vonnegut had written every event in the main character's life like Mozart placing every note it its correct place. This may be the most human book I've ever read; it is teaching the reader about life without being preachy, witty without being annoyingly sarcastic and thoughtful about the state of human existence and how we all interact. Most of all, it makes the reader really think about what he or she ultimately does with his life. This book is a must-read.

Rabo Karabekian was first introduced in "Breakfast of Champions", a minor character in a surreal story. Here he gets the full treatment, and comes off as another one of those great curmudgeon characters. Only in the hands of Vonnegut, he becomes much more. He is crotchety, bitter, cynical, and several steps from senility. But he still has a wonderful memory for his past, and Vonnegut creates for him a fictional autobiography that's fascinating and endearing. And a laugh riot.Rabo has one eye. Rabo was an artist of astounding technical talent, yet helped form the Abstract Expressionist movement (along with his friends the fictional Terry Kitchen and the very real Jackson Pollock). Rabo has seen the best talents of his generation succumb to suicide and self-destruction, yet he is still kicking and screaming at 71. Rabo (guided by Vonnegut) is in the process of pouring his life onto the page, with the encouragement of a mysterious woman who has moved into his home. Vonnegut's greatest accomplishment in the book is the building up of the surprise ending (What the heck is in the barn?) to the point where something astounding should happen, and then drawing up a scene where something astounding happens. It all lives up to the hype, which is a tough thing to do. But I never doubted my man Kurt for a second. He is one of my favourite writers -- for his pointed humour and his deceptively simple prose -- and this is one of his best books. He has managed to create a commentary on the history of war, art, Europe, America, and literature in the twentieth century, by gently leading the reader through a guided tour of one man's life.

I've read lots of Vonnegut and frankly I thought this was one of his lesser works. Boy, was I wrong. Here we have Vonnegut at his most focused on a long time, tearing off page after page that will make you laugh and stop and think at the same time. The story is basically the autobiography of an obscure artist character in Breakfast of Champions, but here he turns Rabo into someone you might think is real, so does his humor and pain cascade off the page. He bounces back and forth between his past and his present at his mansion where he just wants to be left alone, in the great Vonnegut tradition (and he doesn't need time travel this time out), comparing and contrasting the worst moments of his life with the best and trying to figure out what it all means. To me, this is one of Vonnegut's most human novels, his sense of satire and wit are still apparent and sharp but the entire story isn't devoted to Vonnegut making some barbed point about us and society as a whole, it's there but there's more time put into having get to know Rabo has someone who might live down the street from us. I devoured this book and found myself satisified, even the long anticipated secret of what lies in the potato barn was well worth the suspense (and it really is), this is the most fun I've had with a Vonnegut book in long time. Probably one of his more obscure works, it deserves to be read along with his other classics. It may not reach those peaks but it comes darn close.

Again, Vonnegut has come up with a work of literature that leaves the reader (or at least me) breathless and hungry for more of his brilliant work. In all honesty, the book did lose something partway through, and right up until the end I would have rated it only about a 3-1/2. But the ending of this book (as with Mother Night and other Vonnegut novels) was worth the entire book. The secret in the potato barn was incredible; it was everything I'd thought it would be, and more.A superb book, definitely worth reading. It also made me realize (since this was one of the first Vonnegut books I'd read) how interconnected his books really are; Rabo dates back to "Breakfast of Champions," where the reader is almost compelled to dislike him. However, during the course of this book, not only did I end up liking Rabo, I found myself cheering for him, and even understanding him. A must-read for any Vonnegut fan, and even for those who don't have a Vonnegut fetish like I do. Brilliant.