In that time I finished #340. Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut instead of going to the grocery store like I should be doing. Regardless of the fact that it might typecast me into the generic punk rock high schooler, I loved this book the entire way. I loved the unabashed way the narrator spoke, disregarding PC vocabulary and ideology. Even through possibly rude and insensitive topics, there was a consistent voice of love and value for every character that was somehow incredibly parental and mature. I want to characterize this book as cute, but not in the typical sense...it was more that it touched childish feelings within me as well as brought out the vulnerability in grown characters (and animals alike. I heart Sparky).As a reunion of characters in his previous books, I have always loved the idea of this kind of thing. A picture book that I worked on with a close friend last summer even follows this strain. It's also pretty meta, in regards to the storyline which is wonderful. I'm not even sure that there was a story as much as a contemplation of humanity and history and society's patterns with no bullshit. Which is groundbreaking...or something. Innovative, no question.
And let's not forget the pictures (obviously). So fun, so carefree, so stream of thought. Love it. That this book was written in Vonnegut's later career is also captivating. The idea of an aging, experienced writer writing such a playful book is something enchanting and shows a simple literary wisdom that I wish I could have. Maybe someday.
I'm feeling very homesick for Michigan after visiting last weekend, and the intimacy that Vonnegut seems to feel for Indiana touches me a bit. I need to get out of Chicago. I have only found heartache here. Someone help me.
At least I have a good gathering of books (thank you Colleen) to keep my mind busy for a while until that day hopefully comes (sooner rather than later please).
No comments:
Post a Comment