Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time. An unremarkable optometrist from Ilium, New York, Billy ricochets without warning through the moments of his own life: his boyhood, his brutal experience as a bewildered young soldier in World War II, his capture by the Germans, and his survival of the Allied firebombing of Dresden that incinerated a city and tens of thousands of people. In between, he is kidnapped by aliens from the planet Tralfamadore and displayed in a zoo, where he learns their serene, fatalistic view of time in which every moment simply is, always has been, and always will be.
Drawing on Kurt Vonnegut's own experience as a POW who lived through the Dresden bombing sheltering in a meat locker, Slaughterhouse-Five refracts unspeakable trauma through science fiction, black comedy, and a fractured, time-hopping structure. Its famous refrain — "so it goes" — punctuates every death with weary, defiant resignation.
A landmark of postwar American literature, Vonnegut's anti-war masterpiece is by turns absurd, mournful, and quietly furious: a book about the impossibility of making sense of atrocity, and the human need to try anyway.
