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3.91 AVERAGE
3.91 AVERAGE
Well, I'm pretty sure this book set the record for the number of notes I made on Kindle that said, "WTF."
I actually quite liked the book when I started out. There's something oddly comforting about being addressed as if you were a space alien and/or a five-year-old from the future. Everything was explained in simple words, in simple sentences. And in this way, it forced me as a reader to reconsider things that your average human being or average American takes for granted, to look with fresh eyes at commonplace parts of life to see how odd they could seem.
Then it kind of went off the rails.
Originally I appreciated that Vonnegut named the race of every single person he mentioned, rather than leaving "white" as default (though I think every single character was white or black, unless you count the white man who "looked like a Chinaman even to other Chinamen"). Then he felt the need to share that some people called black people the n-word, which was certainly true enough, especially in 1973, but then he started just using the n-word left and right for no apparent reason. I'm not sure its 1973 publication date can justify that, and if it was supposed to be some kind of satire it was lost on me.
There were plenty of other issues that would have been small enough on their own — like that women primarily exist as sex objects and/or mothers in this book, or that Vonnegut referred to a character's adoptive parents as his "stepparents" and his birth parents as his "real" parents — but what annoyed me the most was Vonnegut inserting himself, or a first-person stand-in for himself, into the story, talking about how he created all the characters, then interacting with the characters, then eventually telling one of the characters that he created him. I genuinely dislike that kind of blurring of the fourth wall, particularly when it's not done in a way that feels clever or meaningful.
Which really gets to the point of the book, which — if Vonnegut or his first-person narrator is to be believed — he lays out in a detailed explanation near the end of the book, basically saying that while most novels try to create order from chaos, he wanted to create chaos from order. This is why, rather than providing a linear plot, he constantly follows rabbit trails of thought into minor characters' lives and past experiences. He wants to make every character equally important, just as every human being has their own rich life story.
But he doesn't really do that, because the book ultimately revolves around two old white guys — three, if you count Vonnegut or his stand-in character. The entire book we're told about the day one of them caused the other to go crazy, and then the rest of the book is just detours leading to this moment, and then the book ends. Well, there's the epilogue where the author pointlessly inserts himself in the plot by talking with one of his characters, and then it ends.
I'm sure that plenty of people would say I'm missing the point, or I'm just not bright enough to get the genius of the book, to which I say: If you enjoyed it, good for you. In the end, I thought it was pretty dumb.
I actually quite liked the book when I started out. There's something oddly comforting about being addressed as if you were a space alien and/or a five-year-old from the future. Everything was explained in simple words, in simple sentences. And in this way, it forced me as a reader to reconsider things that your average human being or average American takes for granted, to look with fresh eyes at commonplace parts of life to see how odd they could seem.
Then it kind of went off the rails.
Originally I appreciated that Vonnegut named the race of every single person he mentioned, rather than leaving "white" as default (though I think every single character was white or black, unless you count the white man who "looked like a Chinaman even to other Chinamen"). Then he felt the need to share that some people called black people the n-word, which was certainly true enough, especially in 1973, but then he started just using the n-word left and right for no apparent reason. I'm not sure its 1973 publication date can justify that, and if it was supposed to be some kind of satire it was lost on me.
There were plenty of other issues that would have been small enough on their own — like that women primarily exist as sex objects and/or mothers in this book, or that Vonnegut referred to a character's adoptive parents as his "stepparents" and his birth parents as his "real" parents — but what annoyed me the most was Vonnegut inserting himself, or a first-person stand-in for himself, into the story, talking about how he created all the characters, then interacting with the characters, then eventually telling one of the characters that he created him. I genuinely dislike that kind of blurring of the fourth wall, particularly when it's not done in a way that feels clever or meaningful.
Which really gets to the point of the book, which — if Vonnegut or his first-person narrator is to be believed — he lays out in a detailed explanation near the end of the book, basically saying that while most novels try to create order from chaos, he wanted to create chaos from order. This is why, rather than providing a linear plot, he constantly follows rabbit trails of thought into minor characters' lives and past experiences. He wants to make every character equally important, just as every human being has their own rich life story.
But he doesn't really do that, because the book ultimately revolves around two old white guys — three, if you count Vonnegut or his stand-in character. The entire book we're told about the day one of them caused the other to go crazy, and then the rest of the book is just detours leading to this moment, and then the book ends. Well, there's the epilogue where the author pointlessly inserts himself in the plot by talking with one of his characters, and then it ends.
I'm sure that plenty of people would say I'm missing the point, or I'm just not bright enough to get the genius of the book, to which I say: If you enjoyed it, good for you. In the end, I thought it was pretty dumb.
dark
funny
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Masterful. A domestic Slaughterhouse-Five.
Highly recommend.
Highly recommend.
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I liked this more when I was younger than I did rereading it this time around. I guess I've become more staid with age; although, I do still appreciate Vonnegut's biting wit.
E' il libro più bizzarro, strampalato e schizzato che abbia mai letto.
E', allo stesso tempo, un libro estremamente idiota e inconcepibilmente geniale. Scritto da cani, come solo un un esteta della lingua potrebbe mai scrivere. E' ridondante nella sua originalità. Pare scritto per qualsiasi imbecille, pur sapendo che potrebbe essere colto solamente da elevati QI.
E', allo stesso tempo, un libro estremamente idiota e inconcepibilmente geniale. Scritto da cani, come solo un un esteta della lingua potrebbe mai scrivere. E' ridondante nella sua originalità. Pare scritto per qualsiasi imbecille, pur sapendo che potrebbe essere colto solamente da elevati QI.
A very strange book. Vonnegut's voice and writing is spectacular and the book is quite unlike anything I have ever read before.
Beautiful... erratic, discombobulated, even silly at times, but it was amazingly creative and unique. Vonnegut has a mind that gives me laughing fits because of how poignant, crass and deep his observations can be.
Loved it.
Loved it.
challenging
dark
funny
reflective
medium-paced
dark
funny
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes