Both Ha Jin's "Saboteur" and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. 's "Harrison Bergeron" explore the controversial topic of government imposing its will on the basic human rights of people, and both depict government o

8/3/12 Harrison Bergeron 1/6 www.tnellen.com/cybereng/harrison.html H A R R I S O N B E R G E R O N b y K u r t V o n n e g u t, J r . TH E Y EA R W A S 2081, and everybody w as finally equal. They w eren't only equal before G od and the law . They w ere equal every w hich w ay. N obody w as sm arter than anybody else. N obody w as better looking than anybody else. N obody w as stronger or quicker than anybody else. A ll this equality w as due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th A m endm ents to the C onstitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the U nited States H andicapper G eneral. Som e things about living still w eren't quite right, though. A pril for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtim e. A nd it w as in that clam m y m onth that the H -G m en took G eorge and H azel B ergeron's fourteen-year-old son, H arrison, aw ay. It w as tragic, all right, but G eorge and H azel couldn't think about it very hard. H azel had a perfectly average intelligence, w hich m eant she couldn't think about anything except in short bursts. A nd G eorge, w hile his intelligence w as w ay above norm al, had a little m ental handicap radio in his ear. H e w as required by law to w ear it at all tim es. It w as tuned to a governm ent transm itter. Every tw enty seconds or so, the transm itter w ould send out som e sharp noise to keep people like G eorge from taking unfair advantage of their brains. G eorge and H azel w ere w atching television. There w ere tears on H azel's cheeks, but she'd forgotten for the m om ent w hat they w ere about. O n the television screen w ere ballerinas. A buzzer sounded in G eorge's head. H is thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm . "That w as a real pretty dance, that dance they just did," said H azel. "H uh" said G eorge. "That dance-it w as nice," said H azel. "Y up," said G eorge. H e tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They w eren't really very good-no better than anybody else w ould have been, anyw ay. They w ere burdened w ith sashw eights and bags of birdshot, and their faces w ere m asked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, w ould feel like som ething the cat drug in. G eorge w as toying w ith the vague notion that m aybe dancers shouldn't be handicapped. B ut he didn't get very far w ith it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts. 8/3/12 Harrison Bergeron 2/6 www.tnellen.com/cybereng/harrison.html G eorge w inced. So did tw o out of the eight ballerinas. H azel saw him w ince. H aving no m ental handicap herself, she had to ask G eorge w hat the latest sound had been. "Sounded like som ebody hitting a m ilk bottle w ith a ball peen ham m er," said G eorge. "I'd think it w ould be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds," said H azel a little envious. "A ll the things they think up." "U m ," said G eorge. "O nly, if I w as H andicapper G eneral, you know w hat I w ould do?" said H azel. H azel, as a m atter of fact, bore a strong resem blance to the H andicapper G eneral, a w om an nam ed D iana M oon G lam pers. "If I w as D iana M oon G lam pers," said H azel, "I'd have chim es on Sunday-just chim es. K ind of in honor of religion." "I could think, if it w as just chim es," said G eorge. "W ell-m aybe m ake 'em real loud," said H azel. "I think I'd m ake a good H andicapper G eneral." "G ood as anybody else," said G eorge. "W ho know s better than I do w hat norm al is?" said H azel. "R ight," said G eorge. H e began to think glim m eringly about his abnorm al son w ho w as now in jail, about H arrison, but a tw enty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that. "B oy!" said H azel, "that w as a doozy, w asn't it?" It w as such a doozy that G eorge w as w hite and trem bling, and tears stood on the rim s of his red eyes. Tw o of of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, w ere holding their tem ples. "A ll of a sudden you look so tired," said H azel. "W hy don't you stretch out on the sofa, so's you can rest your handicap bag on the pillow s, honeybunch." She w as referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in a canvas bag, w hich w as padlocked around G eorge's neck. "G o on and rest the bag for a little w hile," she said. "I don't care if you're not equal to m e for a w hile." G eorge w eighed the bag w ith his hands. "I don't m ind it," he said. "I don't notice it any m ore. It's just a part of m e." "Y ou been so tired lately-kind of w ore out," said H azel. "If there w as just som e w ay w e could m ake a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few ." "Tw o years in prison and tw o thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out," said G eorge. "I don't call that a bargain." 8/3/12 Harrison Bergeron 3/6 www.tnellen.com/cybereng/harrison.html "If you could just take a few out w hen you cam e hom e from w ork," said H azel. "I m ean-you don't com pete w ith anybody around here. Y ou just sit around." "If I tried to get aw ay w ith it," said G eorge, "then other people'd get aw ay w ith it- and pretty soon w e'd be right back to the dark ages again, w ith everybody com peting against everybody else. Y ou w ouldn't like that, w ould you?" "I'd hate it," said H azel. "There you are," said G eorge. The m inute people start cheating on law s, w hat do you think happens to society?" If H azel hadn't been able to com e up w ith an answ er to this question, G eorge couldn't have supplied one. A siren w as going off in his head. "R eckon it'd fall all apart," said H azel. "W hat w ould?" said G eorge blankly. "Society," said H azel uncertainly. "W asn't that w hat you just said? "W ho know s?" said G eorge. The television program w as suddenly interrupted for a new s bulletin. It w asn't clear at first as to w hat the bulletin w as about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech im pedim ent. For about half a m inute, and in a state of high excitem ent, the announcer tried to say, "Ladies and G entlem en." H e finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read. "That's all right-" H azel said of the announcer, "he tried. That's the big thing. H e tried to do the best he could w ith w hat G od gave him . H e should get a nice raise for trying so hard." "Ladies and G entlem en," said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She m ust have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the m ask she w ore w as hideous. A nd it w as easy to see that she w as the strongest and m ost graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags w ere as big as those w orn by tw o-hundred pound m en. A nd she had to apologize at once for her voice, w hich w as a very unfair voice for a w om an to use. H er voice w as a w arm , lum inous, tim eless m elody. "Excuse m e-" she said, and she began again, m aking her voice absolutely uncom petitive. "H arrison B ergeron, age fourteen," she said in a grackle squaw k, "has just escaped from jail, w here he w as held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the governm ent. H e is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped, and should be regarded as extrem ely dangerous." A police photograph of H arrison B ergeron w as flashed on the screen-upside dow n, then sidew ays, upside dow n again, then right side up. The picture show ed the full length of H arrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. H e w as exactly seven feet tall. 8/3/12 Harrison Bergeron 4/6 www.tnellen.com/cybereng/harrison.html The rest of H arrison's appearance w as H allow een and hardw are. N obody had ever born heavier handicaps. H e had outgrow n hindrances faster than the H -G m en could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a m ental handicap, he w ore a trem endous pair of earphones, and spectacles w ith thick w avy lenses. The spectacles w ere intended to m ake him not only half blind, but to give him w hanging headaches besides. Scrap m etal w as hung all over him . O rdinarily, there w as a certain sym m etry, a m ilitary neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but H arrison looked like a w alking junkyard. In the race of life, H arrison carried three hundred pounds. A nd to offset his good looks, the H -G m en required that he w ear at all tim es a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrow s shaved off, and cover his even w hite teeth w ith black caps at snaggle-tooth random . "If you see this boy," said the ballerina, "do not - I repeat, do not - try to reason w ith him ." There w as the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges. Scream s and barking cries of consternation cam e from the television set. The photograph of H arrison B ergeron on the screen jum ped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake. G eorge B ergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and w ell he m ight have - for m any w as the tim e his ow n hom e had danced to the sam e crashing tune. "M y G od-" said G eorge, "that m ust be H arrison!" The realization w as blasted from his m ind instantly by the sound of an autom obile collision in his head. W hen G eorge could open his eyes again, the photograph of H arrison w as gone. A living, breathing H arrison filled the screen. C lanking, clow nish, and huge, H arrison stood - in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door w as still in his hand. B allerinas, technicians, m usicians, and announcers cow ered on their knees before him , expecting to die. "I am the Em peror!" cried H arrison. "D o you hear? I am the Em peror! Everybody m ust do w hat I say at once!" H e stam ped his foot and the studio shook. "Even as I stand here" he bellow ed, "crippled, hobbled, sickened - I am a greater ruler than any m an w ho ever lived! N ow w atch m e becom e w hat I can becom e!" H arrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like w et tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds. H arrison's scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the floor. H arrison thrust his thum bs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. H arrison sm ashed his headphones and spectacles against the w all. 8/3/12 Harrison Bergeron 5/6 www.tnellen.com/cybereng/harrison.html H e flung aw ay his rubber-ball nose, revealed a m an that w ould have aw ed Thor, the god of thunder. "I shall now select m y Em press!" he said, looking dow n on the cow ering people. "Let the first w om an w ho dares rise to her feet claim her m ate and her throne!" A m om ent passed, and then a ballerina arose, sw aying like a w illow . H arrison plucked the m ental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps w ith m arvelous delicacy. Last of all he rem oved her m ask. She w as blindingly beautiful. "N ow -" said H arrison, taking her hand, "shall w e show the people the m eaning of the w ord dance? M usic!" he com m anded. The m usicians scram bled back into their chairs, and H arrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. "Play your best," he told them , "and I'll m ake you barons and dukes and earls." The m usic began. It w as norm al at first-cheap, silly, false. B ut H arrison snatched tw o m usicians from their chairs, w aved them like batons as he sang the m usic as he w anted it played. H e slam m ed them back into their chairs. The m usic began again and w as m uch im proved. H arrison and his Em press m erely listened to the m usic for a w hile-listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats w ith it. They shifted their w eights to their toes. H arrison placed his big hands on the girls tiny w aist, letting her sense the w eightlessness that w ould soon be hers. A nd then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang! N ot only w ere the law s of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the law s of m otion as w ell. They reeled, w hirled, sw iveled, flounced, capered, gam boled, and spun. They leaped like deer on the m oon. The studio ceiling w as thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it.

It becam e their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling. They kissed it. A nd then, neutraling gravity w ith love and pure w ill, they rem ained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long tim e. It w as then that D iana M oon G lam pers, the H andicapper G eneral, cam e into the studio w ith a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired tw ice, and the Em peror 8/3/12 Harrison Bergeron 6/6 www.tnellen.com/cybereng/harrison.html and the Em press w ere dead before they hit the floor. D iana M oon G lam pers loaded the gun again. She aim ed it at the m usicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on. It w as then that the B ergerons' television tube burned out. H azel turned to com m ent about the blackout to G eorge. B ut G eorge had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer. G eorge cam e back in w ith the beer, paused w hile a handicap signal shook him up. A nd then he sat dow n again. "Y ou been crying" he said to H azel. "Y up," she said. "W hat about?" he said. "I forget," she said. "Som ething real sad on television." "W hat w as it?" he said. "It's all kind of m ixed up in m y m ind," said H azel. "Forget sad things," said G eorge. "I alw ays do," said H azel. "That's m y girl," said G eorge. H e w inced. There w as the sound of a rivetting gun in his head. "G ee - I could tell that one w as a doozy," said H azel. "Y ou can say that again," said G eorge. "G ee-" said H azel, "I could tell that one w as a doozy." "H arrison Bergeron" is copyrighted by K urt Vonnegut, Jr., 1961.