Haven't read that one, have barely heard of it, but Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five is The Crap!

side note, side story:

I'm heading to my bosswoman's nuptial to her MySpace fiance today. Quite a few months ago, the morning after Vonnegut died, I found his obit on the NYTimes site, shocked to see he'd gone. (His cousin was until recently a reverend at the Episcopal parish on the Circle where I go intermittently.) Anyway, I paced the hallway for a while, fathoming the mortality of men, even Vonnegut (who considered men to be machines sometimes, as in war), and opted to broach the subject with my manager. It went like this (and bear in mind she is a lifelong Indianapolis resident, and he's a native son):

me: So, Kurt Vonnegut died. Wow.
her: Uh, who?
me: Kurt Vonnegut?
her: Who's that?
me: Well, he's a famous author. Thirty-odd novels at least, heralded. Quirky, bleak humor. Hails from Indy, actually.
her: Oh.
[pause]
her: Sorry for your loss.

Just, wow.

Haven't read that one, have barely heard of it, but Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five is The Crap!

side note, side story:

I'm heading to my bosswoman's nuptial to her MySpace fiance today. Quite a few months ago, the morning after Vonnegut died, I found his obit on the NYTimes site, shocked to see he'd gone. (His cousin was until recently a reverend at the Episcopal parish on the Circle where I go intermittently.) Anyway, I paced the hallway for a while, fathoming the mortality of men, even Vonnegut (who considered men to be machines sometimes, as in war), and opted to broach the subject with my manager. It went like this (and bear in mind she is a lifelong Indianapolis resident, and he's a native son):

me: So, Kurt Vonnegut died. Wow.
her: Uh, who?
me: Kurt Vonnegut?
her: Who's that?
me: Well, he's a famous author. Thirty-odd novels at least, heralded. Quirky, bleak humor. Hails from Indy, actually.
her: Oh.
[pause]
her: Sorry for your loss.

Just, wow.

hey! they're allowing anon comments now!

i should read jailbird now that you're done with it so we can chat about it. or, maybe, we can just read a book together and chat about it along the way. who knows. we've an entire life to play with literature.

I read Breakfast of Champions and didn't find it particularly amazing or terrible. It was certainly humorous, and a unique experience in that there were drawings on almost every other page. The narrator would be commenting on something objectified in American culture and would then say "it looked like this: [insert drawing here]." It was extremely sarcastic.

However, the characters and story were not particularly amazing.

I do still intend to read Slaughterhouse and Cat's Cradle.