Megan Caldwell Chandler

It is well known for Hoosiers that not reading Kurt Vonnegut is considered a mortal sin.  Despite this well known fact, for the past 32 years I’ve let my soul remain in a state of certain damnation.  This year I’ve decided to rectify this blasphemous shortcoming.  Glory!

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Vonnegut’s writings.  In January I went to my library in an attempt to procure my first Vonnegut novel.  His shelf was empty—all his books had been checked out.  I took this as positive sign.   After putting my name on a waiting list, I was finally able to read Cat’s Cradle.  Next I read Slaughterhouse-Five.  And last week I finished reading Breakfast of Champions.  I’m sad that I waited so long to read Vonnegut’s work, because I really love it.  His writing has the ability to make you experience two contrasting feelings at once.  While reading his novels, I simultaneously feel humor and sadness, cynicism and hope, enlightenment and confusion. 

Breakfast of Champions features one of Vonnegut’s favorite characters, aging science fiction writer Kilgore Trout.  Throughout Breakfast, Trout recounts brief summaries of many of his past stories.  One story in particular, titled The Barring-Gaffner (or This Year’s Masterpiece), had me first laughing, then thinking, and finally feeling sad.  I want to share this story with you. *

The name of the planet where Trout’s book took place was Bagnialto, and a “Barring-gaffner” there was a government official who spun a wheel of chance once a year. Citizens submitted works of art to the government, and these were given numbers, and then they were assigned cash values according to the Barring-gaffner’s spins of the wheel. The viewpoint of character of the tale was not the Barring-gaffner, but a humble cobbler named Gooz. Gooz lived alone, and he painted a picture of his cat. It was the only picture he had ever painted. He took it to the Barring-gaffner, who numbered it and put it in a warehouse crammed with works of art.

The painting by Gooz had an unprecedented gush of luck on the wheel. It became worth eighteen thousand lambos, the equivalent of one billion dollars on Earth. The Barring-gaffner awarded Gooz a check for that amount, most of which was taken back at once by the tax collector. The picture was given a place of honor in the National Gallery, and people lined up for miles for a chance to see a painting worth a billion dollars.

There was also a huge bonfire of all the paintings and statues and books and so on which the wheel had said were worthless. And then it was discovered that the wheel was rigged, and the Barring-gaffner committed suicide.

*This story is found in Kurt Vonnegut’s novel Breakfast of Champions.  Initially I was going to add a citation with page number and all, but then I realized this isn’t college, and nobody can make me do that.  Na na na na boo boo.