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3.68 AVERAGE
3.68 AVERAGE
Heartfelt, funny and surprisingly optimistic autobiographical letter to his fans, and to the world.
I've read a few other Vonnegut novels. I have a feeling I'll have to come back to this one once I've read a few more.
There's a clever premise here about being in the middle of a Groundhog Day scenario, but it's muddled with anecdotes he seems not to have been able to fit anywhere else. I noticed that this book came out the year before I was born. This means that the author wrote in an era completely different than my own and I was initially interested in hearing his thoughts. This fascination quickly vanished.
I think the thing that made me stop reading was the the crotchety old man attitude of "all books are good, all television is bad". There isn't really any nuance in his argument at all, which I guess makes sense coming from a novelist. As an avid fan of both literature and "television" (which i think nowadays can be expanded to things like modern video games, youtube, and things Vonnegut couldn't have known about in 1996), that argument really doesn't hold any water to me (comparing television to nuclear weaponry was a little much). He says that television does not let you become "immobilized in a congregation of rapt fellow human beings". Anyone who has had a live viewing event at their house probably vehemently disagrees with this statement.
As I got through the few pages I did read, it slowly felt more and more like I was listening to a nursing home resident's take on the modern world. I'm not opposed to coming back to this book, but I think I'll have to read more of his earlier works to see if I can get into his head a little more before I come back.
TLDR: if you haven't read much vonnegut before, start with some of his earlier works.
There's a clever premise here about being in the middle of a Groundhog Day scenario, but it's muddled with anecdotes he seems not to have been able to fit anywhere else. I noticed that this book came out the year before I was born. This means that the author wrote in an era completely different than my own and I was initially interested in hearing his thoughts. This fascination quickly vanished.
I think the thing that made me stop reading was the the crotchety old man attitude of "all books are good, all television is bad". There isn't really any nuance in his argument at all, which I guess makes sense coming from a novelist. As an avid fan of both literature and "television" (which i think nowadays can be expanded to things like modern video games, youtube, and things Vonnegut couldn't have known about in 1996), that argument really doesn't hold any water to me (comparing television to nuclear weaponry was a little much). He says that television does not let you become "immobilized in a congregation of rapt fellow human beings". Anyone who has had a live viewing event at their house probably vehemently disagrees with this statement.
As I got through the few pages I did read, it slowly felt more and more like I was listening to a nursing home resident's take on the modern world. I'm not opposed to coming back to this book, but I think I'll have to read more of his earlier works to see if I can get into his head a little more before I come back.
TLDR: if you haven't read much vonnegut before, start with some of his earlier works.
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
funny
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
A book described as a "stew" by the author himself, 'Timequake' resembles the thoughts of an old, cynical man about life, regret and free will (or the lack thereof). Vonnegut nonetheless uses various light-hearted phrases to make the reading experience enjoyable and fun. In the end though, I was left with wanting more.
Ting-a-ling, you son of a bitch.
Ting-a-ling, you son of a bitch.
Mijn eerste kennismaking met Kurt Vonnegut en het smaakt zeker naar meer!
Ook een zeer interessante manier om een verhaal te vertellen. Fictie gaat hand in hand met semi-fictie en realiteit. Het gaat eigenlijk niet zo zeer om het verhaal of plot maar meer om de schrijver's filosofie over het concept van verhalen en vrije wil en nostalgie van zijn eigen leven, waardoor je een speciale band krijgt met de auteur.
Ook een zeer interessante manier om een verhaal te vertellen. Fictie gaat hand in hand met semi-fictie en realiteit. Het gaat eigenlijk niet zo zeer om het verhaal of plot maar meer om de schrijver's filosofie over het concept van verhalen en vrije wil en nostalgie van zijn eigen leven, waardoor je een speciale band krijgt met de auteur.
First of all, let me say that my copy of TIMEQUAKE has an attractive gold or copper-colored cover with deep blue text and image of a clock separated into four quadrants with different scenes playing out in each. It is far more appealing than the ugly green cover GoodReads shows.
Second, I don’t know how many times I’ve read TIMEQUAKE. At least three. Although it is the last full-length work of fiction Vonnegut wrote, it was the first book of his that I read—when I was in high school—and it certainly made me a fan. The reason I chose to read this book first, rather than, say, SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE, was because the title is so cool. TIMEQUAKE. What a title. Even on this re-read, I couldn’t help but feeling that it is Vonnegut distilled: an extraordinary introduction to his peculiar, meandering style. I was gripped by the very first page, which reads: “All persons, living and dead, are purely coincidental.” Lovely.
I was also quickly impressed by the structure of the book. Vonnegut, the author as narrator, says that he wrote and discarded an earlier version of the story, which he refers to as “Timequake One”, but nevertheless presents TIMEQUAKE as though it were really happening. He both acknowledges the artifice and treats it as real. So, for instance, in one breath he can say outright that Kilgore Trout is a fictional character and a doppelgänger for himself to boot, and in the next he talks of meeting Trout in person and carrying on conversations with him. In one moment he states plainly that he is writing in 1996, but later pretends with a straight face that it is 2010 at the time he is writing. The machete-hacking Vonnegut does to the fourth wall is super interesting and becomes even more so once you factor in the discussion about *time* that is at the center of the plot. The plot, however, is sort of secondary to whatever thoughts pop into Vonnegut’s head at any given moment. Much of the book is a semi-memoir. On that point, he mentions a couple of times being born in 1922–I therefore found it fortuitous that I chose this as my first full book of 2022, to mark a century since his birth.
The “timequake” of the book is an event in which time skips backwards by 10 years. Everybody re-lives every experience they’ve had over the past decade, unable to alter a moment. They are trapped in their own heads, fully aware of what has happened but unable to operate their bodies of their own accord. They can only observe as their lives play out in an identical way to what had happened the first time through. Some people are forced to live through tragedy again; some are even brought back to life after having died in the interim years. It got me thinking about where I would be if this timequake happened to me. A decade ago would be January 2012. I would still be living in Kansas, my wife in her last semester of graduate school. I would still have in front of me my moves to Iowa and Washington, my full law school education, the entirety of my friendships with David & Raechel, and of course the agonizing Trump years during which I lost my job and contact with my immediate family. My son would disappear and I wouldn’t see him again for nearly nine years.
Vonnegut makes the notable choice to have the timequake of TIMEQUAKE begin in 2001, such that at the time the book was written in 1996 he would be in the dead center of the event. I wonder if that was the same in Timequake One or if it was a decision made later. It’s a way to suggest that we are *actually living through the timequake currently*, since Vonnegut himself is a character within the book. It suggests everything is fated, “free will” is illusory, there’s no escaping what’s coming. This is reinforced by the way he keeps returning to the same scenes. For example, after the “rerun” caused by the timequake ends in 2001, his and Trout’s story ends at a clambake. Vonnegut mentions this clambake early on, then continues referring to it occasionally long before the actual scene plays out within the plot. Incidentally, the clambake called to mind a They Might Be Giants lyric (“You’re still hanging ‘round the clambake after every clam has been baked”); though I doubt there’s any connection, it does seem to describe the way Vonnegut and his story lingers there.
Another notable thing about inserting himself into the story and planting himself mid-timequake is that it makes some of his statements… I don’t think that eerie is the right word, but… poignant? Actually, part of it too is the suggestion that every replay of a piece of art, like seeing a new production of a play, is a little timequake of its own. Therefore me reading this book for a third time, or indeed at all, is a timequake in that it replays what Vonnegut was doing and thinking when it was written. So, for instance, on page 24 Vonnegut says flat-out: “I haven’t died yet.” There’s a few times he mentions his own mortality in fact, but that’s the most direct. But now, here in 2022, he has in fact died—he died in 2007, actually. Yet for the time I’m reading the book, he leaps back to life. He hasn’t died yet, yet again. It’s in keeping with the odd cross-eyed notion of the book as a whole, which treats the reality of the plot and its complete artifice as simultaneously true. Likewise, it is simultaneously true that Vonnegut himself both has and hasn’t died yet, within the pages of the book. Call it Schroedinger’s Cat’s Cradle.
Finally, let me say that there are several nice quotes within the book. Many GR reviews of TIMEQUAKE just document those because a lot of the book, as I said, is stream of conscious babbling which occasionally dips in and out of the timequake plot. I was particularly moved by his admonition: “Listen: We are here on Earth to fart around. Don’t let anybody tell you any different!” But of course the iconic Kilgore’s Creed (“You were sick, but now you’re well again, and there’s work to do”) is also a winner.
So yes. I liked this book quite a lot when I first read it and I find that I still do. I’m a bit annoyed by his “Gee, I wish I had religion in my life” sentiments and there are a few things that are not exactly politically correct in this day and age, but overall Vonnegut’s sensibility and flair with words is remarkable, and the bizarre structure of the narrative alone is worth crowing about. Good job, KV.
Second, I don’t know how many times I’ve read TIMEQUAKE. At least three. Although it is the last full-length work of fiction Vonnegut wrote, it was the first book of his that I read—when I was in high school—and it certainly made me a fan. The reason I chose to read this book first, rather than, say, SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE, was because the title is so cool. TIMEQUAKE. What a title. Even on this re-read, I couldn’t help but feeling that it is Vonnegut distilled: an extraordinary introduction to his peculiar, meandering style. I was gripped by the very first page, which reads: “All persons, living and dead, are purely coincidental.” Lovely.
I was also quickly impressed by the structure of the book. Vonnegut, the author as narrator, says that he wrote and discarded an earlier version of the story, which he refers to as “Timequake One”, but nevertheless presents TIMEQUAKE as though it were really happening. He both acknowledges the artifice and treats it as real. So, for instance, in one breath he can say outright that Kilgore Trout is a fictional character and a doppelgänger for himself to boot, and in the next he talks of meeting Trout in person and carrying on conversations with him. In one moment he states plainly that he is writing in 1996, but later pretends with a straight face that it is 2010 at the time he is writing. The machete-hacking Vonnegut does to the fourth wall is super interesting and becomes even more so once you factor in the discussion about *time* that is at the center of the plot. The plot, however, is sort of secondary to whatever thoughts pop into Vonnegut’s head at any given moment. Much of the book is a semi-memoir. On that point, he mentions a couple of times being born in 1922–I therefore found it fortuitous that I chose this as my first full book of 2022, to mark a century since his birth.
The “timequake” of the book is an event in which time skips backwards by 10 years. Everybody re-lives every experience they’ve had over the past decade, unable to alter a moment. They are trapped in their own heads, fully aware of what has happened but unable to operate their bodies of their own accord. They can only observe as their lives play out in an identical way to what had happened the first time through. Some people are forced to live through tragedy again; some are even brought back to life after having died in the interim years. It got me thinking about where I would be if this timequake happened to me. A decade ago would be January 2012. I would still be living in Kansas, my wife in her last semester of graduate school. I would still have in front of me my moves to Iowa and Washington, my full law school education, the entirety of my friendships with David & Raechel, and of course the agonizing Trump years during which I lost my job and contact with my immediate family. My son would disappear and I wouldn’t see him again for nearly nine years.
Vonnegut makes the notable choice to have the timequake of TIMEQUAKE begin in 2001, such that at the time the book was written in 1996 he would be in the dead center of the event. I wonder if that was the same in Timequake One or if it was a decision made later. It’s a way to suggest that we are *actually living through the timequake currently*, since Vonnegut himself is a character within the book. It suggests everything is fated, “free will” is illusory, there’s no escaping what’s coming. This is reinforced by the way he keeps returning to the same scenes. For example, after the “rerun” caused by the timequake ends in 2001, his and Trout’s story ends at a clambake. Vonnegut mentions this clambake early on, then continues referring to it occasionally long before the actual scene plays out within the plot. Incidentally, the clambake called to mind a They Might Be Giants lyric (“You’re still hanging ‘round the clambake after every clam has been baked”); though I doubt there’s any connection, it does seem to describe the way Vonnegut and his story lingers there.
Another notable thing about inserting himself into the story and planting himself mid-timequake is that it makes some of his statements… I don’t think that eerie is the right word, but… poignant? Actually, part of it too is the suggestion that every replay of a piece of art, like seeing a new production of a play, is a little timequake of its own. Therefore me reading this book for a third time, or indeed at all, is a timequake in that it replays what Vonnegut was doing and thinking when it was written. So, for instance, on page 24 Vonnegut says flat-out: “I haven’t died yet.” There’s a few times he mentions his own mortality in fact, but that’s the most direct. But now, here in 2022, he has in fact died—he died in 2007, actually. Yet for the time I’m reading the book, he leaps back to life. He hasn’t died yet, yet again. It’s in keeping with the odd cross-eyed notion of the book as a whole, which treats the reality of the plot and its complete artifice as simultaneously true. Likewise, it is simultaneously true that Vonnegut himself both has and hasn’t died yet, within the pages of the book. Call it Schroedinger’s Cat’s Cradle.
Finally, let me say that there are several nice quotes within the book. Many GR reviews of TIMEQUAKE just document those because a lot of the book, as I said, is stream of conscious babbling which occasionally dips in and out of the timequake plot. I was particularly moved by his admonition: “Listen: We are here on Earth to fart around. Don’t let anybody tell you any different!” But of course the iconic Kilgore’s Creed (“You were sick, but now you’re well again, and there’s work to do”) is also a winner.
So yes. I liked this book quite a lot when I first read it and I find that I still do. I’m a bit annoyed by his “Gee, I wish I had religion in my life” sentiments and there are a few things that are not exactly politically correct in this day and age, but overall Vonnegut’s sensibility and flair with words is remarkable, and the bizarre structure of the narrative alone is worth crowing about. Good job, KV.
The earth decided to go backward, reversing time, then has second thoughts so people relive the last 20 ears all over again. If that sounds interesting, you'll like this book.
Vonnegut’s works have been some of my most enjoyable and influential. He has entertained and inspired me. And, most importantly, he gave me the ability to question life… with a laugh. Timequake is the most-fitting final novel for this legend—it is absurd, and funny, and philosophical, and tragic, and a lot of it is real, and even more of it is fake; just like life. And no one will teach you more about it all than Kurt Vonnegut and his alter-ego, Kilgore Trout.
emotional
reflective
sad