An O'Harrison Ending (Like an "O'Henry" ending. But it's "Harrison Bergeron." Get it...?)

I would say that this was a good week in English. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I enjoyed all the stories ("Battle Royal" was disturbing to say the least), but I had no problem getting through them all (while in previous weeks, *cough* Flannery O’Connor *cough,* it was more of a challenge). "Harrison Bergeron" by Kurt Vonnegut was by far my favorite. While it was at times frustrating to read because of the utterly pathetic existence the characters lead, it raises a good point (true “equality" has its flaws) and keeps the reader engaged until the very the end.

In the story, the futuristic society is virtually dominated by Diana Moon Glompers, the “Handicapper General” who enforces laws that guarantee that all citizens are equal in every possible way. In this country, "nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. No one was stronger or quicker than anybody else" (1). Glompers's methods of leveling society are painful at best. The handicaps that George Bergeron, a man who is considered to be above average both mentally and physically, are required to wear include forty-seven pounds of birdshot in a bag around his next and a mental handicap radio in his ear that scramble his thoughts by emitting loud and irritating sounds every twenty seconds. Hazel Bergeron, George’s wife who is incapable of thinking “about anything except in short bursts” (3), represents the “average” person as shown by her lack of handicaps. In today’s society, Hazel’s attention span would be comparable to that of someone with untreated ADD. She is a nice person, sympathetic towards the handicaps that have been placed on her husband, but completely clueless. She confides that she is jealous of not being able to hear all the interesting sounds that those with mental handicaps can hear, even though George constantly expresses how painful the sounds are. Unlike George, who has the capacity to realize the injustice of his situation but who is prevented from doing so by his radio, she is simply too dull to do anything. For example, when the characters begin to question the rigid governmental regulations, they are unable to get very far because George’s radio and Hazel’s stupidity get in the way. Perhaps the most frustrating fact is that the people of this fictional country chose their own fate: the “equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Ammendments to the Constiution,” meaning that the people themselves must have voted on the laws.

Even though the story is somewhat maddening, as readers, we have a hard time putting it down. Vonnegut keeps us completely enthralled using hope, a clever method indeed. He follows each pitiable description of the character’s existence with an occurrence or conversation that makes us think that their situation will get better, only to follow it with another downward plunge. Following the initial introduction of the characters and their lives, George begins to think about his son (raising the reader’s sense of hope), only to have the sound of a “twenty-one-gun salute” erupt in his ears (20). However, Hazel then begins to express sympathy for her husband, and suggests that he remove some of the lead balls from his physical handicap. George goes on to ask, “The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?” (31). As readers, we are extremely excited at this point, anticipating a real break through and, to the optimistic reader, a potential underground uprising. But we are once again disappointed as the sound of a siren fills George’s ears and he forgets the conversation.

The ultimate let down comes at the climax of the story. Harrison Bergeron, an extraordinary boy who has been swathed in every handicap imaginable, stages an uprising on national television. He rips off his burdens, frees one of the ballerinas to become his Empress, instructs the musicians to play their best, and declares himself the Emperor. As the Emperor and his Empress dance and fly and kiss, Diana Moon Glompers (the Handicapper General) enters onto the scene and shoots and kills the Emperor and the Empress. As readers, we stop and think “what?! That is NOT how it was supposed to end!” But by this point, the story is pretty much over so it’s too late to stop reading.

The big question is: why did Harrison, a boy with super-human strength, intelligence, and good looks, fail? Perhaps his biggest shortcoming was his own arrogance. In creating such a public uprising and simply declaring himself the Emperor in such a spectacular fashion, he almost guarantees his downfall. Even so, we reach the end of the story with a look of disbelief on our faces, as Vonnegut is able to play to our sense of hope until the very last part of the story. (806)