The book itself has had something of a strange history. I borrowed it years ago from a friend I nicknamed Tammy Pajamy. She knew me while I was dating my high school girlfriend (who I've nicknamed Hong Kong Tanya, because it makes her sound like a cheap whore), and we met up again and hung out while we were in university. She came over to my apartment one night to find me asleep on the sofa, wearing only a T-shirt and underwear and with my eyes wide open. She thought I'd died laughing at the episode of Newhart that was on TV.
Anyway, back to the book. I'd never read Vonnegut, but I loved his appearance in Back to School, so I asked if I could borrow it. From that point until last year, the book sat on various shelves and in various boxes, unopened. I hadn't read one lousy word in fifteen years.
But Slaughterhouse-Five ended up being not as dense, as boring, or, most importantly, as thick as I thought, and I breezed through it in a couple of nights. It turned out that I enjoy his writing, but I unfortunately do not have a copy of Cat's Cradle or Breakfast of Champions squirreled away in my basement.
And then the delightful Mr. Vonnegut had to surprise us with his death. If he's anything like the rest of us -- and that's something of a stretch -- he'll spend much more time dead than he did alive. And so it goes.
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Slaughterhouse-Five. My first and only.
The book itself has had something of a strange history. I borrowed it years ago from a friend I nicknamed Tammy Pajamy. She knew me while I was dating my high school girlfriend (who I've nicknamed Hong Kong Tanya, because it makes her sound like a cheap whore), and we met up again and hung out while we were in university. She came over to my apartment one night to find me asleep on the sofa, wearing only a T-shirt and underwear and with my eyes wide open. She thought I'd died laughing at the episode of Newhart that was on TV.
Anyway, back to the book. I'd never read Vonnegut, but I loved his appearance in Back to School, so I asked if I could borrow it. From that point until last year, the book sat on various shelves and in various boxes, unopened. I hadn't read one lousy word in fifteen years.
But Slaughterhouse-Five ended up being not as dense, as boring, or, most importantly, as thick as I thought, and I breezed through it in a couple of nights. It turned out that I enjoy his writing, but I unfortunately do not have a copy of Cat's Cradle or Breakfast of Champions squirreled away in my basement.
And then the delightful Mr. Vonnegut had to surprise us with his death. If he's anything like the rest of us -- and that's something of a stretch -- he'll spend much more time dead than he did alive. And so it goes.
Cat's Cradle was my first. Either that or Sirens of Titan is my favourite. Ice-9 or a chronosynclastic infundibulum - It's a tough call.
I found Cat's Cradle to be very interesting, and Titan. That ice from Cradle would be a god send at my cocktail parties.
Bye Kurt!
...Rob
I'm writing an extended free verse in the "voice" of Billy Pilgrim -- for fun and as a tribute. Trying to get it up on my site next week.
...and so it goes
Cat's Cradle I think. But it's Slaughterhouse Five I remember the best (i.e., remember reasonably well...my mind is a sieve).
Hmmm... I think it was 'Time Quake', but it could have been 'Cat's Cradle'. My memory, not so good on these things.
Has to be Galapagos. Thanks a lot, big brain!
Breakfast of Champions made my brain explode...in a good way, mind you. I have yet to read Cat's Cradle or Sirens of Titan...perhaps this summer.
Slapstick
Bye, Kurt!
Cat's Cradle was my first... but I think Sirens of Titan was my favorite... though I also really enjoyed Slapstick and Welcome to the Monkeyhouse
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