e-Book Happy Birthday Wanda June download

Kurt Vonnegut! What more need I say? This play is full of character and story cross-overs typical in Vonnegut's works. Own it! Read it! Be enthralled! Hi ho!

What can on say about Kurt Vonnegut? Thank heavens he lived and wrote books. This one is fun.

I used it as a birthday present for a real Wanda June.

always good writing.

This is advertised as a "used" book. I prefer to call it a "lovingly touched" book.

Some experiments succeed. Others not so much. Way back in 1971, almost half a century ago, author Kurt Vonnegut wrote in the introduction to one of the few plays he published that he had told his older brother "I'm through with novels. I'm writing a play, it's plays from now on." This only a few years after his immensely successful masterpiece, the one that vaulted him to ubiquity, "Slaughterhouse Five." Now, he did indeed write a play called "Happy Birthday, Wanda June." These days, no one talks about this play as much as they talk about "Slaughterhouse Five." The piece actually fell into a kind of obscurity despite a film treatment, released the same year as the book, featuring Rod Steiger. Before the Internet made everything and anything available instantaneously, many people probably found the book somewhat difficult to find. It appeared, along with the considerably more evasive "Canary in a Cathouse" and "Between Time and Timbuktu," on "also by Kurt Vonnegut" lists included just a few pages inside many of his books. Some may have searched for months or years, through musty used bookshops crawling with feral cats, for that tantalizing follow-up to his famous work. Surely it must build on and possibly surpass the story of Billy Pilgrim becoming "unstuck in time?" Upon finding and reading the coveted item, many may have felt somewhat nonplussed because, in all honesty, it's quite far from the best thing he wrote. Its relative obscurity becomes clearer as the largely predictable and not entirely mesmerizing plot unfolds along with some fairly stereotypical characters. By no means bad, many will nonetheless struggle to consider it good. Still, Vonnegut fans should definitely read it because it contains some hilarious scenes and dialog. It just doesn't really come together in a wholly satisfying way. The play really wants to make a poignant statement about the dangers of violent masculinity, but this blaring theme suffocates most of the story.

Things begin with animal noises and music and the cast introduce themselves one by one in a "how do you do" manner. This reveals a love triangle between Penelope Ryan, Dr. Norbert Woodley and Herb Shuttle. Penelope announces that "this is a simple minded play about men who enjoy killing - and those who don't." Paul, Penelope's son, misses his father and Penelope's husband, Harold Ryan, an Ernest Hemingway-esque explosion of masculine bravado, who vanished some years ago. The play happens to fall on Harold's birthday, a fact noted only by Paul, with somewhat obvious foreshadowing, so it comes as little surprise when Harold actually returns to his house full of hunting trophies. His sidekick, Looseleaf Harper, who accompanied Harold on his journey, provides some comic relief. Harold finds his wife engaged to a man he considers weak and unmanly. He also finds his wife considerably more feeble, sensitive and feeling. Prior to that, Shuttle had purchased a cake to celebrate the absent Harold's birthday, but it wishes happy birthday to Wanda June, who, because her cast listing describes her as "10, a ghost," it comes as little surprise that Wanda June died before her family could pick up the cake, so Shuttle bought an existential leftover of sorts. Wanda June appears and talks about the wonders of Heaven. She goes so far to say that everyone should die and come to Heaven as soon as possible. People in Heaven also love the things that put them there. Soldiers love the shrapnel, tanks and bayonets that brought them to paradise. The ten year old girl ghost then utters, directly to the audience, the play's most disturbing lines: "So if you think of killing somebody, don't worry about it. Just go ahead and do it. Whoever you do it to should kiss you for doing it." Back in Harold's house, Harold tells Paul stories of his father, including his killing of "The Beast of Yugoslavia," Major Siegfried Von Konigswald, prompting another rise to Heaven where the Beast himself tells his side of the story. Tensions rise between Harold and his wife's now main suitor, Woodley, a sensitive man who plays the violin. Harold becomes more and more of a chauvinistic pig as the play progresses. Penelope, somewhat counter to her character, submits until Harold smashes Woodley's violin. Woodley disappears until he confronts Harold against Penelope's wishes. In a scene that doesn't really come across as convincing, Woodley breaks Harold down with words and Harold, now greatly enfeebled, regresses to the point of suicide. He walks offstage and a shot rings out. The play's hilarious final line nearly makes the entire piece worth the effort, though the climax mostly falls flat.

Many elements of "Happy Birthday, Wanda June" contain enough humor, drama or poignancy to make this at least a decent play. The humorous and disturbing scenes in Heaven describe a place where good and evil never matter and everyone plays shuffleboard, but they only relate to the main plot tangentially and they feel tacked on and a little contrived. Penelope and Harold's character development also feels a little contrived and the burgeoning message derails any real drama that could have occurred in the final scenes. Again, Vonnegut fans should still read this play for its very Vonnegut traits, but no one should expect a masterpiece here. The absolute highlight of the book remains Vonnegut's autobiographical introduction, including an unusually high number of photos. He doesn't paint a picture of the play as a wild success: "The reviews were mixed, as they say." He also admits to rewriting constantly, even throughout the play's relatively short run. It shows, especially in the last few scenes. He had considerable problems with the ending and rewrote it again and again. Everything also seemed rushed: "Lester [the producer] hired a theater before we had a script. And he moved so quickly that we needed a director almost immediately." Vonnegut also mentions his father's death, becoming left-handed, his "chickenhearted" inability to make a character vile and the new family he had found in the cast of actors, though any expectations of "staying in touch" after the play closed seemed rather dubious. Apparently, cast members of plays always say that they will remain in contact following the final curtain. Despite this, it sounds like they often don't. Who really has time, after all, for additional extended families? Looking at "Happy Birthday, Wanda June" holistically, readers may appreciate that Vonnegut's somewhat shocking statement to his older brother, "I'm through with novels," didn't come true. His distinctive style works much better within the form of the novel. He likely realized this and thankfully went on to write many more fabulous books after his foray into theater, including "Breakfast of Champions," "Galápagos," "Bluebeard" and others. Vonnegut's only "real" play will probably endure only as a footnote in an otherwise illustrious career. No one is perfect.

Happy Birthday, Wanda June is Kurt Vonnegut's response to the uber-macho values of Ernest Hemingway, whose ideas of manliness involved killing animals for sport. This didn't just include Hemingway's fondness for bullfighting, whose goal is killing bulls as efficiently and elegantly as possible, but also Hemingway's hunting of exotic animals. Vonnegut wonders at the destructiveness of this sort of "heroic" manliness. It's the sort of thing that led to the United States dropping two atomic bombs on Japan. Vonnegut inserts his Hemingway caricature into a modern version of Odysseus, who returns home to a different sort of woman than the Greek hero did. Whether or not this is fair to Hemingway as a person, Vonnegut has nonetheless managed to write a witty, entertaining play, even if it does grow a little too preachy at the end.

Happy Birthday, Wanda June is an anti-b.s. play. Anti-macho nonsense, anti-abuse, anti-syncophant, anti-war mongering, anti-violence, anti-abandonment. All the "living" characters in it are trying to be someone else....except Harold, who is so much himself (or forgone) that his personality is deadly against the others.

This is a very funny, bizarre, timely play. Now, as America is back in a questionable war, as we were when this was written in 1970, and blatant aggression is somehow acceptable here is Vonnegut standing up to show us all how ridiculous we are, and ridiculous just about everyone in the play is.

Harold is single-minded and aggressive enough to not see its effect on others. Penelope, who is lost throughout most of it, is stuck and needs the borishness of Harold to see the error of her ways. Woodly is patently lost in a field of peace, joy and positivity full of rage, but smitten by the myth of manliness. Shuttle is an idol worshiper and caught in an Americana sport/brotherhood fetish. Looseleaf is in a haze of wonder and awe at his past, shocked by his own inhumanity. Paul is angry, needy for a father, but protective like a fatherless child is of his mother. The three "ghosts" are ironic and a hope for us all. Since this world is ridiculous and stupid, belief that the next one is anything but remains a peaceful possibility.

A good play, full of social commentary, Vonnegut's wit and black humor. Recommended, especially in this day in age, and for Vonnegut fans.