Jailbird, Palm Sunday, and Deadeye Dick

I swear I’m keeping up with the reading but I haven’t had much time to write up my thoughts. By which I mean I don’t always feel like it. Sue me.

Anyway—

This was an interesting trio of books. I had read Jailbird and Deadeye Dick before—loved the former, didn’t care too much for the latter. But this time around my opinion on both shifted. Jailbird was great but not my favorite and Deadeye Dick had a lot more going for it than I originally gave it credit for.

In between the two was Palm Sunday which was a welcome change of pace. It’s an odd one, though. Palm Sunday is basically just a compilation of speeches and essays Vonnegut had written for other events or publications. He didn't have to write anything new and still managed to sell a whole-ass book. Gotta respect that. Work smarter, not harder.

Palm Sunday is weird in that it’s a must-read for Vonnegut completionists and a should-skip for basically everyone else.

Palm Sunday provided some context to Deadeye Dick that helped me gain more appreciation for it. The inciting incident of Deadeye Dick—the accidental shooting of a pregnant woman by a 12 year old boy—occurs on Mothers Day 1944. If I hadn’t read Palm Sunday, I wouldn’t have known that Mothers Day 1944 also happens to be the exact same day Vonnegut’s mother died.

It’s obviously not a coincidence that a book about the loss of innocence takes place on the day of the author’s mother’s suicide. Just like with Slaughterhouse-Five and Breakfast of Champions, Vonnegut seems to be actively processing that trauma throughout Deadeye Dick. One thing I’ve definitely gained an appreciation for as I’ve been doing this project is how effectively Vonnegut draws on his own pain to make his stories richer and deeply human. I think I underestimated what an effective tool fiction writing can be for processing those emotions, but having had some insight into Vonnegut’s personal life, as well as seeing patterns in his works as a whole, it’s clear how vital writing was to his own healing.

Or not. What do I know.

The point is—writing fueled by personal experience can be extremely compelling. Shocking, right?

Palm Sunday is also where Vonnegut graded his books so going forward, you’ll only be seeing my grades.

Jailbird:
Griffin’s grade: B+
Kurt’s grade: A

Palm Sunday:
Griffin’s grade: B-
Kurt’s grade: C

Deadeye Dick:
Griffin’s grade: B+