Hocus Pocus is the story of Eugene Debs Hartke, a Vietnam veteran, who after leaving the Army became a teacher at a private school and then a prison. After a prison break, he is mistaken for one of the ring leaders and ends up awaiting trial, dying of TB, contemplating his life and trying to count the number of women he has slept with.In itself, that would make a good basis for an ordinary book, but as this is a novel written by Kurt Vonnegut, the basic story has little to do with making this one of the final greats of the late 20th Century.In fact describing it as a novel may be pushing it at all. As all you fine creative writing course graduates know, a beginning and an end are kinda compulsory, and even without them a middle would be quite handy. Vonnegut no doubt knew the 'rules' but you get the impression that he never let that get in the way of anything. Instead he put together a beautiful satire of just about every aspect of American life, from the idiocy of Vietnam, the treatment of the 'vets when they got home, the sale of just about everything to the Japanese and the inbred insularity of the majority of Americans.But not all Americans are equal, and the difference between those with money and those without is a constant theme and despite quoting Orwell's opinion that 'Rich people are just poor people with money' there is an 'apartedness' that sees rich Americans believe themselves to be a different species, with the incisive narrator in the form of Hartke wearily pointing a leary finger at them.All of this before what was surely at the front of Vonnegut's mind when he sat down to write Hocus Pocus, the imminent death of the planet through his country's disregard of the environmental impact of 'The American Way (tm)'. And does he lay on the environmental concern with ladles.Like Heller, Vonnegut's humour softens what are in the main quite bleak and dark episodes, and the ridiculousness of the characters and their beliefs highlights his central themes. The characters themselves are a master class, with every individual at least receiving a passing note regarding their quirks and peccadilloes. Nothing is simple - after the prison break, the head of the school (which naturally is over-run by the prisoners) takes to the bell tower with a sniper rifle, before ultimately being killed and then crucified.The beauty of it all is that it is almost believable, yet still fantastic in its truest sense.I must admit, I'd avoided reading Vonnegut's novels for years, believing him to be a second-rate science fiction writer for some reason and it is only in the last few months that I have tackled some of his work. Reading other reviews, I understand that his output was quite patchy, but if this, Cat's Cradle and Slaughterhouse 5 are anything to go by, I'll be reading and enjoying many more.
I've never been the hugest Vonnegut fan despite being well aware that given what he was trying to do and who he influenced, he should be up there with my favorites. Or should have been when I was a teenager. Or something. I'm not sure what my reservations were exactly, as I hadn't read anything by him for a while, and I really figured I should come back and reboot. Thanks to my roommate's well worm copy of Hocus Pocus I had the chance.And okay, now I'm totally sold.Initial reservations having to do with Vonnegut's seemingly overly light and breezy tone were just about completely swept aside as it quickly became clear that he was just running a smokescreen for the scathing cynicism at the core of this book. This is not exactly the hilarious rollercoaster the blurbs on the back suggest. Vonnegut's ambitious vision takes on the entirety of modern America, an America whose self-assurance (of its rightness, its politics, its economics) borders on religious mania even as it is shadowed by historical wars, widening class-gaps, environmental demons, and a capitalism that has begun to eat itself like a starved stomach. In some ways, it's an anti-elitist mirror world version of Ayn Rand, with the upper crust of society bailing out of the system, not to forge a dubious utopia, but to slink away from unsalvagable ventures clutching its wealth like an unbrella about to be flipped inside out by an on-rushing storm. And it's a lot of other things. The beauty of the book is the completeness and coherency of the pocket universe Vonnegut has constructed here (suggesting the scope of Against the Day even at a fraction of its length); and its accuracy, even after almost 20 years of further "progress". He even manages to tune up the "unstuck in time" formatting of Slaughterhouse Five, here a very natural digressive narration that connects threads across 50 years of history.It's not at all surprising that Vonnegut only finished one more novel after this one. Hocus Pocus is so broad and effective that it seems hard to imagine what else could have been left to say.
What do You think about Hocus Pocus (1997)?
There's something utterly terrible in finishing a book that made you feel like your whole being (as never before) was acknowledged as beautiful while you read it. Tears...a lot of tears. A ache in your heart...a yearning for the love affair that you've just had with this author (reaching for him in your quiet times and not being rejected but Validated) is over. Done. Kaput. But to know that you are for now and for ever in love with him. That a simple little word strategically placed within its pages made your heart almost burst out of your chest. Remembering a randomly placed sentence that ripped your soul from your body and made you gasp, "That's exactly what I feel, what I knew all along." I just want to sit beside him and say thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...a million times...and each time have it make him feel at least part of the joy he's given to me. God, what an amazing man.I don't know if its more horrible to have finished it or to recommend it. To give people a chance to say that everything you feel is rediculus or guffaw it away. But how can you deny anyone such a feeling that you've just had?
—Holli
I can't say that this is one of Kurt Vonnegut's best works. To be honest, it's rather more depressing than many of his other novels - and they're a rather depressing lot anyway! Unlike his Bluebeard, though, this book lacks a deeply moving and somehow uplifting ending. It lacks a sense of resolution...perhaps that's what Vonnegut intended. It probably is.But even so, Vonnegut retained his gifts as a writer. So although I found myself frequently feeling a little depressed by this book, I also couldn't stop reading it - and I'll eventually read it again.One thing that's almost shocking is the accuracy of Vonnegut's "future" (2001) America. Environmental collapse (from glaciers instead of global warming, but close enough), an ever-increasing gap between the rich and the poor, a desperate energy crisis, booming prison populations and the privatization of prisons, the wholesale purchase of American businesses and properties by foreign businesses, chronic unemployment caused by the demise of American industry, no healthcare for the poor...and that's just from memory, I know there was more. The seeds of all these trends were not only planted but sprouting back in 1990 when Vonnegut wrote this, but even so he paints a pitiless and frighteningly accurate picture.It's nice to see a few of his old favorite characters in the book; it gives a feeling of continuity. And he retained his wicked wit and imagination. It just seems that they were being overshadowed by the essential bleakness of Vonnegut's worldview - a worldview which, I fear, was only too clear.
—Peter
I love Kurt Vonnegut. It would be difficult to overstate how formative Cat's Cradle was for me. I got a major kick out of Slaughterhouse Five.But this book was missing everything that made those great. There's no winking wisdom behind the satircal bitterness. No blindingly fresh observations from the mouths of fools and idiots. There's no fun.If you took all the wit and imagination and irony and subtlety out of Slaughterhouse Five, you'd end up with this. I can see why someone would want to write this book. I'm not sure why anyone would want to read it. (Which is almost tragically disappointing from the man whose first rule for fiction was "Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.")If you're thinking of picking this up, just go read Cat's Cradle for a second time. Or third. Or fiftieth. It's in a whole different league of awesome.
—Russell
