Not my favorite Vonnegut. I picked this up on sale based on an Amazon reader recommendation declaring it Vonnegut at the top of his form or some such. I can't disagree more. Vonnegut is always bizarre but it's usually an endearing sort of bizarre - this was more of a circus side show bizarre. About 3 quarters of the way through the book it felt like Vonnegut just gave up on the story and started working as quickly as he could to end it. The finish is abrupt and unsatisfying though it contains the only glimmer of the trademark Vonnegut poignancy I can recall from my read.

The experience of reading this book was kind of like watching a relative you admire get himself embarrassingly drunk and offensive at a public restaurant. Skip this one. If I'd read this Vonnegut first I wouldn't have read any more.

Vonnegut's most farcical, most absurd, but also one of the more scathing satires.

Here Vonnegut takes on universalism, and totalitarianism, but on a grander scale than he allowed in Harrison Bergeron; but also this is more surreal. His genius, though, as seen in other novels, is to creatively intersperse pockets of stark realism to accentuate and to highlight the circus like theme.

Vonnegut also uses elements of grotesque to further illustrate his none too subtle rebuke of egalitarianism. This is thought provoking, though, in terms of his over the top humanism and decidedly liberal politics. A good read, and a must read for a Vonnegut fan. A new reader to his canon would be better advised to start with Slaughterhouse-Five or Cat's Cradle.

***** 2019 reread

Hi Ho!

Lyn Geranium 27 here, reporting on Kurt Vonnegut’s ninth novel, first published in 1974.

When I first read this back in the olden days of the late 80s, I didn’t like it so much. At the time I had no exposure of and a dim understanding of absurdist humor. After college introduced me to Eugene Ionescu, Albert Camus and Samuel Beckett, I had a little better idea about how much fun it could be, and through the microscope of hyperbole, how important as a literary device it could be.

Vonnegut tells this outrageous tale of the last President of the United States, a two-meter-tall, Neanderthal genius twin who presided over the fizzled out end of western civilization. What follows is disease, famine and decentralized fiefdoms.

But civilization is not over, the Chinese have learned, among a great many things, to go full Ant-Man and reduce their size to better utilize lessened resources.

What stands out the most to me was Vonnegut’s ideas, earlier hinted at in Cat’s Cradle and Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons, about how lonesome we are and what we desperately need are extended families as in primitive societies.

Our hero Wilbur introduces the law that everyone will replace their middle name with a randomly generated noun and number combination. An example is Daffodill 11, or Uranium 8. This then, would become the person’s family, and they could support each other or not, just like today. If you don’t want to deal with a non-family member, Wilbur invites us to say this to them:

“You can take a flying f*** at a rolling doughnut, you can take a flying f*** at the Moooooooon!”

And so on.

Vonnegut describes to us a world, through absurdist exaggeration, a world of desperate individuals who want connection, and a necessary ideal toward fixing such a calamity in the example of the little Chinese.

Too much fun!

Hi Ho!

Kurt Vonnegut is one of my favorite authors. His writing style is clear and concise yet delivers a punch that will leave you feeling it long after you've finished reading.

This one however fails to deliver. I was disinterested after a few of its short chapters. I picked up on the dark humor from the beginning but it quickly became boring. Overall I didn't enjoy the story and feel his earlier works are the strongest. I would describe it as silly and as the title says, "slapstick". I found the plot boring and the characters ridiculous.

I hate to be cliche but 'Mother Night', "Slaughterhouse-Five', and 'Breakfast of Champions' are superb. 'Player Piano' and 'God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater' are other great works by Kurt Vonnegut. These works highlight the black humor yet have emotional connectivity that anyone can relate to one way or another.

I recommend reading his earlier works because they have so much more meaning and depth. Thanks!

Чудова книжка з хорошим гумором, тут є все (кінець світу, інцести, мікроскопічні китайці) через що книжка може здаватися дуже дивною, але читається дуже швидко й легко і приносить масу задоволення, за що Воннеґута я і люблю

Pilnīgs Vonnegūtisma haoss ar mikroskopiskiem, ieelpojamiem ķīnietīšiem vēl turklāt.

Վոնեգուտը կյանքություն գրող ա․ հերթական անգամ համոզվեցի։
Էնքան հավես, կոլորիտով, մաքուր ու սիրուն ա գրում, որ ամեն անգամ էլի վերասիրահարվում եմ էս մարդու գրելաոճին։
Էս անգամ գիրքը կենսագրական էր, քույր ու եղբոր կյանքի պատմություն ու երևի թե առաջին անգամ էր, որ Վոնեգուտը ստեղծել էր կերպարներ, որոնք հակակրանք էին առաջացնում կարդալիս։ Լիքը մտածելու հարցեր էր գրել ձյաձը ընտանեկան հարաբերությունների, ծնողների ու երեխաների, մենակության ու դիմացինից սպասելիքների մասին, որ դեռ երկար գլխումս կպտտվեն:))

Coincidence: choosing this book including a mysterious disease named ‘The Green Death’ which is actually microscopic Chinese people; invariably fatal when ingested by normal-sized humans. Hi ho!

It is also quite possibly my greatest ever secondhand book find - a first edition Vonnegut

За Кърт Вонегът каквото и да се каже ще е дребно и недостатъчно. Ве-лик! Препрочетох тази книга и четейки я, установих че съм препрочитала толкова пъти книгите му, че ги знам почти наизуст. Сега остава да си направя татус с негов цитат. So It Goes, например.

While it's difficult to give this novel a star rating--really it's better than three, but maybe a hair's breath short of four--and three maybe puts it unduly into the mediocre category, that's probably because I just expect a bit more from Mr. Vonnegut. Actually this is a pretty good novel, all around, if perhaps not one of this particular master's masterpieces. but, hey, his work in general is so far above most American novelists, that this novel is probably better than 90% of the shit you will ever read by one of us Yankee purveyors of literary fiction.

One of Vonnegut's terrific post-modern techniques, in my opinion, lies in how he strips away the modernist subtexts, metaphors, and themes by simply outing them. Here he does that in a luscious preface in which, in a kind of meandering and roundabout fashion, he manages to lay the groundwork for the various topics of the novel: filial affection, the limits and vagaries of kinship, the coming plagues of disease and the exhaustion of fossil fuels (which, yes, in the time of Covid-19 and the onrushing Armageddon of climate change, also make this Vonnegut's most prescient novel--for this fact alone I just adjusted my rating from three to four stars), and the absurdity of war and religion, territory with which Vonnegut's readers will be familiar from his earlier, slightly better novels. The preface cleverly introduces us to the events and people in the author's life that got him thinking of the topics that the novel's narrative addresses as it goes along. I find this wonderfully satisfying as a reader--no subtle games, just the ideas, take 'em or leave 'em. Very American indeed.

So, if you're interested in reading--it just occurs to me now--the best post-apocalyptic novel ever (I know people rave about The Road, but, sadly, the one Cormac McCarthy novel I read was so terribly, terribly bad I seem incapable of convincing myself to try another), then pick up Slapstick. Well, actually, now that I think of it, Cat's Cradle is also partially post-apocalyptic, and a better overall novel, so this is #2 in the rankings. Still. Loneliness is certainly a deep-seated American problem, which, I find, presents itself mostly as misanthropy and a hatred of urbanity. Although 86% of Americans live in cities and suburbs, about 33% vote like the country bumpkins they wish they were.

SECOND READING, 2022: Nothing much to add. Kurt's misgivings about the L-word be damned: I love this book.

* * * * *

ORIGINAL REVIEW, EARLY 2020
(appx 7 weeks before stay at home orders began)

Slapstick begins with a prologue that I won't hesitate to rank among Vonnegut's absolute best writing. It is honest, it is tenderhearted, it is sad and funny and bittersweet. It also provides an explicit key to deciphering the novel that follows, which is unusual. In another author's hands such a trick might seem overeager and embarassing. But Vonnegut does as he always does and makes the silly and embarrassing work gracefully towards his purposes—presenting his thoughts so concisely and so cheerily that it is impossible not to feel a groundswell of emotion and a firm, immediate rapport. Vonnegut knew what it was to be human, with all the messy ugly parts and all the beautiful triumphant parts and all the messy parts that become beautiful because they are real and essential to us.

As his 8th novel out of 14, I guess we'd place this one into his "middle era" and Slapstick is written in the staccato style I most often associate with Vonnegut's later books. Assuming his aim was to provide plenty of places to stop for reflection along the way, I took the opportunity to read this book slowly: a dozen pages a day or so, with lots of space between each of those pages to feel, to think about what made me feel that way, and then to feel again what thinking about feeling that way made me feel. It was pleasant, but potent.

This is Vonnegut, so there are quotable "zingers" all along the way (as usual). But it's also an exercise in actively caring (again as usual). Truth be told I need all the gentle reminders I can get to be a kind and decent person in this world we occupy. Vonnegut doles those reminders out liberally, and with more explicit comedy here than I recall in his other works.

I do have some criticism for this book, but when I go to write it down it seems trivial in comparison with the big feelings that it stirred up in me. About the most severe thing I can bring myself to say is this: it's not Vonnegut's strongest novel and it is cruder than his greatest hits.

But still, emphatically: 5 stars out of 5. There's a cliché frequently passed around parenting circles: "Find Your Tribe." For years I've dismissed it as empty pablum, but Vonnegut just made it real to me.

Clearly my favourite of all of Vonnegut's books until now. I actually wondered why this book isn't as famous as Slaughterhouse Five or Breakfast of Champions. But then, not everyone thinks similarly.

This book is an 'imaginative fictional autobiography', possibly the only one in the world because writing one of these requires hazardous levels of daydreaming coupled with an unbreakable commitment to write. But then it's His Holi-Moliness Vonnegut we are talking about.

The book begins with an fair amount of autobiography before meandering right into the dystopian daydreams of Vonnegut (Is it me or Vonnegut is suddenly sounding like a nice name for a baby? Charming!). The story elaborates the life and history of Wilbur Daffodil-11 Roosevelt Swain, possibly the last President of the United States.

It's a timely satire on how nuclear our social life is becoming and the resulting loneliness subsequent generations are going to face because of it. His slogan 'Lonesome! No More!' is Vonnegut's two cents of gleeful turmoil on man not wanting to die alone.

I know that it's a rare thing to come by but this book is surprisingly both delightfully funny and poignantly sad, the latter leaving behind a trace even after the last page. It's one of those rare books that celebrates being alone while still attempting to avoid being lonely.

It would probably take Kurt Vonnegut Jr. himself to explain all of the imagery in this amazing book. I shook with laughter many times while reading it. I consider it a necessary addition to my collection of titles by this ingenious author!