I hadn't read anything by Vonnegut since 1990. No real reason for the lapse, just life, I guess. But boy, am I glad he's back in my life again.

Like most of THE MAN'S books, this one is about everything and nothing.

The ghost of Leon Trotsky Trout (sprung from the loins of Kilgore Trout) spins a salty yarn from one million years in the future, telling us all about the mating rituals of humans and blue footed boobies in the year 1986. Seems that once upon a time, mankind had bigger brains and opposable thumbs instead of flippers. And we still managed to screw everything up!

I was just happy to learn that people will not only be around a million years from now, a fact that I had truly doubted, but that we'll still get hiccups and laugh when someone farts.

According to Italo Calvino, “A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.”

And in Kurt Vonnegut Jr's indomitable dark satire this book exemplifies such to a T.

“So I have to say that human brains back then [1986 as narrated from a million years later] had become such copious and irresponsible generators of suggestions as to what might be done with life, that they made acting for the benefit of future generations seem one of many arbitrary games which might be played by narrow enthusiasts—like poker or polo or the bond market, or the writing of science-fiction novels.”

This is such a well known book (first published in 1985) that most of those that haven't read it yet likely have an idea of the storyline from others, or have read a plot summary such as the one on Wikipedia. Thus, I won't get into the plot and characters, other than to say that in a very entertaining way the book questions the merit of the human brain from an evolutionary perspective.

As to the writing style, Kurt Vonnegut Jr. shreds current conventional writing dogma in an engrossing way, aided by his second to none imagination for outlandish storylines. That imagination also producing the novel Slaughterhouse-Five (an enduring antiwar novel) among others.

To me, this book is well worth reading, especially for readers that can pick up on the nuances of Kurt Vonnegut Jr's often dark, and sometimes strange and/or disturbing, exemplary satire.

"First comes fodder, then comes morality." ~ Bertolt Brecht

Daily Vonnegut – Day 9.

I had a lot of misgivings about this book as I was reading it, and I was glad to see that Allen also agreed with those misgivings and gave them a form. Well, I thought, that takes care of that. Lord knows I need a professor somewhere to say what I want to say, because then that makes my opinion “real” and “the best”. I cannot ever be bothered to put out an opinion myself, so I need to ride the edge and sit on the fence for fear of being “wrong”. Being wrong is the worst thing you can be in this world. If you are wrong, you can never again be right. Your reputation is ruined in the eyes of humans and animals (and the gods, if you like [see, I can do edgy atheism too - “In this moment, I am euphoric. Not because of any phoney god's blessing. But because I am enlightened by my intelligence”]). So NEVER take a chance unless someone with a PhD has already said that thing. Then just repeat it. And if you don’t agree, why don't you take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut?

Okay I am done. That voice becomes difficult to get rid of, lord knows. Allen said it in his final thought on the novel: “Galápagos is a hard novel to like, but an impossible one to dismiss.” That sense of duty and commitment to read about the historical events and the sociopolitical issues of the time period in America make you feel guilty when you are not vibing with any particular Vonnegut novel. This one is not so ardently political, but rather uses Darwin’s evolutionary principles as a takeoff point. Obviously, through the dripping irony and satirical prose, you can see Vonnegut’s point of view on the matters of our “big brains” being capable of doing lots of bad, right along with the good. There can be a future, as soon as a million years from now, where we have apocalypsed ourselves into creatures with hair all over and flippers for arms, and whose brains are not bigger than a tennis ball. And that may be good, because no one can lie, or start WWIII. But then again, no one can write Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.

At this point, I am not really frustrated anymore. I have adapted (do you see what I did there? I made a clever attempt at wordplay, in which I used the verb “adapt” in the sense that I have been reading Vonnegut quite a bit and have become used to his way of writing, but I also meant it in the Darwinian sense – please clap). Vonnegut’s societal and political stances are displayed with about as much subtlety as a professor’s laptop opening up to a lecture hall of 700 students, only to immediately start projecting the most perverted genres of porn known on our planet right onto the big screen. It’s loud, it’s impossible to look away from, it’s intriguing (?), and ultimately entirely too uncomfortable. But if subtlety is not what you are going for, then jump in. I am just showing my own hand.

So maybe this would have been a really nice satirical essay. No? Why not? Cause at this point, the characters are all half-baked, you don’t care about any of them, and the charming protagonist of Vonnegut’s books that usually gives you the good from the first-person point of view is literally an all-seeing ghost on a ship, who was picked because Vonnegut wanted all the benefits of a third-person narrator while enjoying all the perks of a first-person character. Ultimately, I don’t care about the ghost’s story, or the “stories” of any of the other characters on the cruise ship that is headed for the Galápagos islands. So it ends up being a lot of back and forth dialogue that is zany, no anchor within the story, hell, no real story, and is just musings on genetic inheritance, natural disease, economic booms and busts, and a frankly commendable understanding of the tenets of evolution via natural selection. Cheers. Dank memes.

I've read Galapagos a while ago, so I've finally decided to review it. My Math teacher gave it to me when we found out that we both had a thing for Kurt Vonnegut.

The book is a darkly humorous satire (as many of Vonnegut's books are) on the concepts of evolution, adaptation, and intelligence. After a series of events, the only surviving humans on Earth are a small group of people that happened to be on a certain cruise ship headed to the Galapagos islands.

The story is narrated by Leon Trout, son of Kilgore Trout (character from Slaughterhhouse Five), who died while helping build the cruise ship (he's some kind of ghost). As it is Vonnegut's thing to mess up with the timeline and chronology of his novels, he will give you right from the begining details such as who is going to die and when (he even puts an asterisk before the names of those about to die). But don't worry, it doesn't actually spoil the book.

Leaving the characters/plot behind, this book is about human evolution; and Vonnegut seems to think humans have evolved badly, their intelligence/consciousness ("big brains") making their life harder: getting confused with too much information, getting distracted, lying and so on.

It was a challenging and interesting book, I would definitely recommend it if you're familiar with Vonnegut's work.

Welp, if you like snark and sarcasm, you might find this funny.
If you like heavy-handed messages masked as satire in lieu of authentic characters or engaging story, you might think this wise.
If you think that reading the spoilers before the story is stimulating, you might think this creative.
If you think Harrison Bergeron should have been a full-length novel, give this a go.

The only reason I'm going to finish it is because it's short and I'm 3/4 done, somehow.
Here's hoping the ending makes me amend what I've said above.

Ok done.
Nope, no amendment. Just one additional question. What the heck does Vonnegut think could possibly kill off all the rest of humanity? One of the themes he harps on, after all, is how reproductively successful we big-brained terrestrial humans 'were.'

This is my second reading of this novel. It is Vonnegut at his best. It is hilarious (I now know what to say once someone has walked down into the blue tunnel.) Even Kilgore Trout makes an appearance. It is, however, a real science fiction novel (rather than just a vehicle for bunch of cynical wisecracks - not that there's anything wrong with that). As human beings, our Darwinian downfall was the consequence of our overly evolved big brains. A million years in the future, however, things right themselves; by sheer luck a small number of folks end up on "The Nature Tour of the Century", by way of a cruse ship that will tour the Galapagos islands.

Okay, I've already said too much... Though there so much more. It's a great book. It should have contended for the Hugo that year.

спочатку не зайшло. але потім я вже доріс до цієї книжечки. і яка вона чудова.
оповідь йде від духа, який вже на землі більше мільйона років.
він розповідає про людей які пережили фінансову кризу і втекли від мікробів, через які люди вже не могли розмножуватися.
персонажі чудернацькі і цікаві.
багато іронії. вонеґут висміює розмір.
і ще каже нам, пора задуматися про екологію, та та.

I read most of Vonnegut's books many years ago, as an impressionable young lad. I am now re-reading them as an older somewhat cynical man with a fashionably world-weary attitude. He impressed me then. He impresses me even more now. What went on in this man's brain? When I read him, I really really say to myself, "I wish I had written that phrase" ...."I wish I had had that idea". He is beyond description. He is so sane, that it's frightening. Wherever you are today Kurt, whether in consciousness or nothingness, your ideas will swirl around, perhaps even until humankind returns to the sea, after "the Nature Cruise of the Multi-Millenia". As a postscript, I think I'll note here that I finished this book on a visit to Paris, which has no relevance to any of the above, but since it's the city of Proust, I thought I'd mention it anyway.)

The serene Galapagos Islands, named after the famous giant turtles, discovered there, almost 600 miles west of impoverished Ecuador, ( in a remote part of the vast Pacific) the small nation, that owns them, was made famous by scientist Charles Darwin, when the " HMS Beagle," a British Royal Navy, surveying ship, visited these bleak, isles, encompassing 21, in number, not counting more than 100, minuscule peaks, breaking the surface, of the sometimes cold, deep blue waters, in 1835, strange animals were observed, by the soon to be renowned, perpetually seasick, young naturalist and geologist. A century and a half, later, things have drastically changed... noisy tourists... no longer at the end of the world, access by ships and airplanes, these exotic Galapagos, now have airports and sea docks, there, and even people residing in the formerly pristine lands, welcome to 1986 ... Big troubles, occur, an economic crisis engulfs the Earth, the inhabitants in many parts are starving, a virus is making them sterile too, and the long planned, "The Nature Cruise of the Century", to the Ecuadorian ocean province, from the Guayas River port of Guayaquil, threatened with cancellation. The few who do arrive, at the guarded hotel, are the new widow, American, Mary Hepburn, despondent, with suicidal impulses, James Wait, an alias, he says he's Canadian, a con man, in reality, who takes money, you guessed it, from grieving women, Japanese Hisako Hiroguchi, pregnant wife of computer genius, Zenji, incompetent Captain Adolf von Kleist, of the ship, "Bahia de Darwin", that's right, the same one that will take them to the islands, if he can find the archipelago, billionaire Andrew Macintosh, he wants more, and his blind, loyal daughter, Selena, the ghost of Leon Trotsky Trout, is our narrator, son of the late, not so great, writer, Kilgore Trout, and six hungry little girls, unexpected passengers, natives of the nearby rain forest . Still a war breaks out with a fierce neighboring nation, bombs falling, bullets flying, food riots erupting, the survivors of this group, must get away, quickly, to the cruise ship, there is safety only in the Galapagos, just forty hours from the lawless city. Captain Adolf von Kleist, is constantly amusing, a good looking, well spoken gentleman, a notable storyteller , who doesn't know how to steer a boat , without any nautical knowledge, whatsoever, his crew has deserted him, he must pretend...skillfully. A fun read by the always entertaining Mr. Kurt Vonnegut, those who like his style, which can seem rather childish, to some, the uninformed , he knows his targets, though, they, ( his fans) will greatly enjoy this satire, about the stupidity of the human race, not realizing there are consequences for every action, life is not only for them, they must share the planet with other living creatures, who deserve to be unharmed, and able to prosper, too...P.S. there will be surprises

Galápagos by Kurt Vonnegut is a captivating and thought-provoking novel that blends dark humor with a profound exploration of human nature. Set in a post-apocalyptic world, Vonnegut's imaginative storytelling and unique characters draw you into a quirky yet insightful narrative. The novel examines themes of evolution, survival, and the absurdity of modern life with his signature satirical style. Galápagos is both entertaining and intellectually stimulating, offering readers a fresh perspective on the human condition. It's a must-read for fans of Vonnegut and anyone looking for an unconventional and deeply engaging novel.

не знаю: чи то книга нудна для мене, чи то переклад вкрай невдалий.
я не читала книгу, ні. я пробиралася крізь текст в пошуках сенсу та якогось бодай цікавого сюжету.
нічого цікавого, смішного чи захопливого я так і не знайшла для себе. ледь-ледь змусила себе дочитати до кінця.

була одна-єдина деталь, яка змусила мене посміхнутися: імʼя собаки в «Ґалапаґос» — Казашка, а імʼя пса в «Сирени Титана» — Казак. прикольна пасхалка.

1 ★ за те, що в книзі є собака.
1 ★ за те, що ця книга таки закінчилася.

Galapagos: Our biggest problem is our oversized brains
Originally posted at Fantasy Literature
This year I read or reread my favorite Kurt Vonnegut books after a two-decade gap: The Sirens of Titan (1959), Mother Night (1961), Cat’s Cradle (1963), and Slaughterhouse-Five (1969). In these works, his trademark cynicism and resignation towards humanity’s recurrent vanity and folly was mitigated by his gallows humor and simple, unadorned prose. It’s a formula that really transcends any period and keeps his books popular among successive generations of readers, particularly younger people who connect with his consistent debunking of societies’ pretensions and hypocrisies.

I debated whether to add Galápagos (1985) to the list, since it comes much later in his career and some of his later books seemed to lack the energy and focus of his early works. In the end, it’s such a short book and the audiobook is narrated by the excellent Jonathan Davis, so I gave it a go. As it turns out, Galápagos served as a concise summation of the ideas that infuse his earlier books.

Galápagos is the story of the “Nature Cruise of the Century” aboard the Bahía de Darwin, a cruise set to depart Ecuador for the Galapagos Islands with a roster of wealthy and prominent passengers including Jackie Onassis, Henry Kissinger, Mick Jagger, and other celebs. However, right before the cruise embarks, a global financial crisis destroys the value of emerging currencies, rendering the value of the Ecuadorian currency “less than a banana peel” and scuppering the trip. However, a number of passengers are already in Ecuador, and amid growing unrest and hunger in the local population, the captain still hopes to depart with hundreds of gourmet meals still onboard. As you can imagine, things don’t go well, and the boat finally runs aground on the island of Santa Rosalia in the Galapagos.

The novel is narrated by an omniscient voice that does not identify itself for most of the book, but does indicate it is viewing the events of 1985 from a million years in the future. The narrator tells us that in this far future, humankind has completely evolved (or devolved) into streamlined, beaked creatures living in the Galapagos Islands that live mainly on fish, iguanas, Blue-footed Boobies, etc. Their key development is that they have evolved much smaller brains to adapt to a simple existence, free of all the miseries and neuroses that afflicted mankind a million years ago. In fact, humans’ hands have become flippers designed for swimming, so they no longer can use tools and recreate civilization. It turns out that civilization was wiped out by a virus that consumed human eggs in the uterus, and the only survivors are descended from the passengers (and a few others) of the Bahía de Darwin.

Throughout the story, the narrator dryly describes the various dramas that each passenger has gone through in their lives, and how this random gathering of people unwittingly becomes the start of a new human race. As always, the selection of people is utterly random due to the absence of a divine being controlling events, so everyone is flawed in various ways, with no heroes or villains. In fact, the only villain in the story is the oversized brains of people that created such an absurd and unsustainable global society in the first place.

This theme is very much in keeping with what Vonnegut has written before, and he has always had great pathos and empathy for the plight of the poor, deluded, and neurotic human race, but I think in Galápagos he pulls the focus even farther back (a million years, in fact) to observe humans from a great distance, and his conclusion is that the self-inflicted misery of the human race can only be solved by shrinking and simplifying those oversized, useless brains of ours that prevent us from being satisfied with a simple, unencumbered existence.

In other words, after several decades of writing about the stupidity of modern society, Vonnegut has essentially said, “you know what, it’s pretty obvious that we are hopeless basket cases and would be better off as simple-minded creatures that live a peaceful existence fishing and fornicating and otherwise thinking about nothing at all.” That suggests to me that the balance of his cynicism and humanism finally had tipped towards fatalism and that humanity is incapable of fixing its own problems. How we as readers take this message is entirely up to us, but it’s certainly not a comforting thought.