It’s a bit late, but I’ve just finished my first summer
reading! And as with any good book, countless reflections flooded my mind as
soon as I closed the back cover.
So, let’s start with my first thought, a question:
What if there were
mechanical presidential candidates? You know, just bolts and rust instead of
handshakes and idiocy?
Evidently, there would be fewer gaffes concerning sporting
events, but that’s a story for another time.
Now, where was I? Ah, the book!
Written by the famed Kurt Vonnegut, Player Piano illustrates a world more dependent on machines than a
teenage girl with her mobile Facebook app. There are super computers,
mindlessly calculating how many door knobs, dinner plates, television sets,
washing machines and everything else to produce for society. There are engineers,
whose doctoral degrees allow them to sit behind office desks and act only when
an instrument requires wire-replacement. Then, with one flick of a switch,
another machine whirs to swap out the faulty cables.
Of course, the number of necessary engineers is also
determined by the computers.
At face value, Vonnegut paints an unwelcome conclusion to
the post-Second World War culture. Yet, I find it hard to believe that he
really expected us to fear dominance by machinery – after all, most of us are
probably too busy clicking on Groupon deals to contemplate such nonsense. Instead,
I wonder if, beneath the irony and genius in Kurt’s prose, a deeper anxiety
awaits to be found.
Perhaps it is a fear of the perfect ending. See, even in
Vonnegut’s flawless world where the robots do all the hard work – and replace our kitchen appliances every
few years! – the humans aren’t happy.
To refrain from spoilers, I’ll just reiterate that last
part; the humans aren’t happy.
Is it because we prefer continual change over finality? Does
the idea of “progress” signify the root of all our desires? Would we really
rather live with a malfunctioning dishwasher?
I have zero sufficient answers but, hell, at the very least,
maybe we just enjoy watching presidential candidates who stupidly criticize
Olympics preparations.
What are your thoughts
on Vonnegut, machines and the likes? An inquiring mind wants to know.
