Old Kurt Vonnegut regales us with a yarn no one’s seen before or since.

If you’re not familiar with the great American novelist, I’d not suggest reading this before you’ve had a healthy helping of his other fiction.

This book reads as part memoir (for KV and for Kilgore Trout), part satiric and philosophical critique of American society, and part on-writing guide; oh, and he hates semicolons and throws in a fun science-fiction plot first dreamed up by Kilgore Trout many years ago, which helps to navigate the plethora of topics and people - how Twain and Hemingway wrote, in brief - in a hilarious and candid manner.

I read this in three days and will be reading and rereading more Vonnegut very soon. As for that Trout guy, we should all write in “Kilgore Trout” on the presidential ballot!

I hate to say this because I love Vonnegut. Cat's Crade and Slaughterhouse were pure genuis - satire at it's best. I also liked Sirens and Breakfast of Champions even though they were not of the calibre of his best works.

However, I am starting to fear that most of his other books are a waste of time. I think people read them only because they love Vonnegut and they desperately want to experience again the simple delight of discovering books that can shake you and engulf you.

I did not enjoy Vonnegut's short stories (much as I wanted to) and I had to give up on Timequake. That's right. Put it to rest before completing it. At some point in his life, Vonnegut appears to have stumbled upon a formula; a superbly quirky and poignent style and a set of peculiar characters to go along. Miserably pathetic, gloriously mournful, wonderous people, dredging through the absurdities of life. But it is still sorely disappointing when you see the same themes and characters repeated in his other books. Thinly veiled, these books are suspiciously like rejected drafts of his more successful novels or tired attempts to re-create magic.

Something interesting I noticed in Timequake was Vonnegut's very 1950s view of women and his hand-waving simplification of their personalities and desires. This was only alluded to in his other books but starkly stated in Timequake. I don't think he intended to be chauvinistic or mean as he appears to have been a nice and sweet man in real life. But it was too late. Already jaded at this pivotal juncture in Timequake, I could now put it down with good reason. And shake my head. Oh, Kurt. Tsk tsk. Rest in peace, and thanks for the cat.

"..that all that could be learned from history was that history itself was absolutely nonsensical, so study something else, like music"

Kurt Vonnegut's one of the last books (i think), is a semi autobiographical caricature painting based on the human condition. If through a timequake, people are made to relive the last 10 years, without free will, essentially do the exact same thing again and again, will be appreciate life any better? We have Kilgore Trout and Kurt Vonnegut walk out of such a timequake which happened in 2001 along with his usual set of quirky caricature characters, Trouts short stories and inserts of the Vonnegut family.

One of the parallel tracks is appreciation of life, art and the value. The book actually became a lot more sober towards the end when the author ends up reminiscing and the fact and fiction sort of overlap. It was a lot more personal to the author and hence by extension a bit lost. However, the writing style for around 60% is the usual pseudo arbitrary intellectualism laced with wit and humor.

"I say in speeches that a plausible mission of artists is to make people appreciate being alive at least a little bit.

Based on my readings of Vonnegut books, I wondered if he was a cynic and pessimist. I have concluded he is a closet optimist, who wanted to open up the readers to see the point of being pessimistic is often comical.

"In real life, as during a rerun following a timequake, people don't change, don't learn anything from their mistakes, and don't apologise. In a short story they have to do at least two out of three of those things"

The books is partly stories of the people in his life. No life is perfect. But then every life is beautiful. And this book is just perfect the way it is without regrets.

"You were sick, but now you're well again, and there's work to do" "Ïf this isn't nice, what is?" "Ting-a-ling!"

Well, I just read Galapagos, one of Vonnegut’s finest novels, and Timequake is not in that club. I, as with most Vonnegut fans, am perfectly content reading Vonnegut write about the phone book or fleas or jazz. His rambling is like music to our ears. But this book is not one of the best of his books. Not the best or most original rambling from him. Though one occasion for the book becomes the death of Kurt’s dear brother Bernard. One attraction here is that both guys are science guys who are funny. Well, Timquake meanders from topic to topic, and isn’t really a novel, it’s a series of reflections and one-liners, but I still was mildly entertained, maybe 2.5, and here’s some stuff I liked:

On play and invention: “Listen: We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different!”

On books: “I am eternally grateful for my knack of finding in great books, some of them very funny books, reason enough to feel honored to be alive, no matter what else might be going on.”

“But by accident, not by cunning calculation, books, because of their weight and texture, and because of their sweetly token resistance to manipulation, involve our hands and eyes, and then our minds and souls, in a spiritual adventure I would be very sorry for my grandchildren not to know about.”

On bombs: “[Andrei Sakharov] won his Nobel in 1975 for demanding a halt to the testing of nuclear weapons. He, of course, had already tested his. His wife was a pediatrician! What sort of person could perfect a hydrogen bomb while married to a child-care specialist? What sort of physician would stay married to a mate that cracked?
"Anything interesting happen at work today, honeybunch?"
"Yes. My bomb is going to work just great. And how are you doing with that kid with chicken pox?”

On the human race’s apparent desire to commit collective suicide: “So it is not one whit mysterious that we poison the water and air and topsoil, and construct ever more cunning doomsday devices, both industrial and military. Let us be perfectly frank for a change. For practically everybody, the end of the world can't come soon enough.”

On equality and democracy and Eugene Debs: “I still quote Eugene Debs (1855–1926), late of Terre Haute, Indiana, five times the Socialist Party’s candidate for President, in every speech: “While there is a lower class I am in it, while there is a criminal element I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.” In recent years, I’ve found it prudent to say before quoting Debs that he is to be taken seriously. Otherwise many in the audience will start to laugh. They are being nice, not mean, knowing I like to be funny. But it is also a sign of these times that such a moving echo of the Sermon on the Mount can be perceived as outdated, wholly discredited horsecrap. Which it is not.”

Timequake strikes me as less a novel than a loose autobiography with embellishments. And it's often quite a bummer, though more than a couple lines made me laugh. There's some frank and honest reflections on life and free will, which are sharp and zany in such a way as could only have been composed by Vonnegut, an irascible old codger. The whole structure is thin, almost to the point of seeming frail: he tosses out pitch after pitch for hypothetical stories, alluding to a first draft of the same book we're reading currently, while drifting back and forth from his own life to his fictional creations. I doubt anyone else could make this work so charmingly.

3.5 stars. Certain observations and parables are quite resonant, offering intriguing considerations about free will and the often baffling state of affairs we find ourselves in as humans groping around for agency while living in what appears to be a sometimes strangely semi-automated, deterministic world. Other parts are underdeveloped, leaving me wanting much more. Altogether I feel this book is best recommended strictly to Vonnegut completionists, and to them only after having read all his other stuff first.

I wanted to give this one 3 stars, but it's Vonnegut, one of my favorite authors, so I give it 4. I cannot give it 5 stars as I would give "Slaughterhouse- Five" or "Cat's Cradle." It's not even much of a story. We have the return of science fiction schlockmeister Kilgore Trout, which is wonderful. We have the timequake occurring in the near future of when the book was published in 1997--it occurs on February 13, 2001. All it does is cause a reset back to 1991 and everyone has to live the ten-year period over again. Not too bad and I could do it-- but without the repeat of the horrendous 2000 election. Anyway, this book is more autobiographical than anything as Vonnegut reflects on family and friends and relationships. And, being a Vonnegut book, there are some truly hilarious moments. And some great quotes. Here's one I picked out: “But by accident, not by cunning calculation, books, because of their weight and texture, and because of their sweetly token resistance to manipulation, involve our hands and eyes, and then our minds and souls, in a spiritual adventure I would be very sorry for my grandchildren not to know about.”
Vonnegut was born on November 11, 1922 ( on an Armistice Day- the day "the war to end all war" ended, in 1918) and died on April 11, 2007. "Timequake" is his last novel.

Кърт Вонегът прави дните по-живи и щастливи. Нищо по-малко от 5 звезди за този пореден негов шедьовър.

Antes de Vonnegut, los viajes en el tiempo suponían una deliciosa fuente de enrevesadas paradojas narrativas. Pero el famoso escritor norteamericano, haciendo uso de su retorcido ingenio, se las arregla para transformar todo el árbol de decisiones que podría plantear este tipo de acontecimientos en un pésimo gag cronológico donde cada acción se repite sin posibilidad de cambio. La idea me parecía atractiva. La forma de resolverla, no. Dejando a un lado momentos puntuales de relativa brillantez, Cronomoto no es más que una sarta de chorradas inconexas en las que el autor delira y entre las cuales deja caer inofensivos conatos de crítica social. Yo, desde luego, no le he pillado el punto a la historia ni a la célebre comicidad de su autor. Espero que este monumental tropiezo solo sea anecdótico y otras obras suyas como Matadero Cinco o Cuna de gato (que también espero leer este año) sí que hagan honor a la "indiscutible" maestría por la que es conocido Kurt Vonnegut.

A book about how Kurt Vonnegut is old & out of date.

"I got a sappy letter from a woman a while back. She knew I was sappy, too, which is to say a Northern Democrat. She was pregnant, and she wanted to know if it was a mistake to bring an innocent little baby into a world this bad. I replied that what made being alive almost worthwhile for me was the saints I met, people behaving unselfishly and capably. They turned up in the most unexpected places. Perhaps you, dear reader, are or can become a saint for her sweet child to meet." (211)

I finally decided to read Vonnegut's last novel, Timequake. 'Novel' does not fully describe the work, though, because what starts out as a fairly familiar Vonnegut tale becomes more of a memoir toward the end, with bits and pieces—memories and anecdotes—from Kurt's life thrown in. It's pleasant to read (for the most part), and very nostalgic—the work of an old man, an aged writer, trying to put down his last bits of wisdom as best he could and saying goodbye to us, hoping we'll be good.

History repeats.

A little bit memoir, a little sci-fi, a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. Kurt references his many works, such as Bluebeard, Slaughterhouse 5, Cat's Cradle. Kilgore Trout has many adventures in this deja vu of a life in which a timequake occured, causing everyone to relive the last ten years. A lot of talk of war, specifically atomic, and various characters from our history books. An interesting read from gold old Kurt.