This is probably my least favourite book of Vonnegut's that I have read to date. Although it makes the usual dry, sarcastic observations about humanity, it just does not have the same quirk and brilliance as some others. I am thinking here of Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse Five and my personal favourite Bluebeard. The entire way through this book I expected some sort of twist as the ending was made clear several times throughout the book. The twist never came, the pictures drawn to 'aid' the reader were great though.
Some of the book also seemed like an attempt by Vonnegut to expose his philisophical background. Of course, he had probably reached the stage of infamy by then that many of his fans probably loved this part of the book but it just struck me as self-centred and well, sort of lame. Maybe I'm missing the point.
As usual the satire was to a high standard and the humour was forthcoming. As with many of his books the view of human nature was bleak and I was excited to learn more about one of his main characters throughout the books: Kilgore Trout; the largely failing little-known sci-fi writer. His view of humans as machines is also telling.
Not a great read but an interesting, humourous one nonetheless.
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