Thursday, December 22, 2011

Breakfast of Champions

I just read my first Vonnegut novel and absolutely loved it. I was eating some vegetarian chili and cornbread in Texas and stumbled upon this book in a closet. I picked it up and ended up reading 1/3rd of that night and finishing it within two days. (I'm usually a slooooow reader.) I love this book. I mean, this is my new favorite book. I haven't figured out exactly what I think about it yet, but I marked certain passages that stood out to me:

"In the long run, he's committing suicide," said the driver. "Seems like the only kind of job an American can get these days is committing suicide in some way."

"I can't tell if you're serious or not," said the driver.
"I won't know myself until I find out whether life is serious or not," said Trout. "It's dangerous, I know, and it can hurt a lot. That doesn't necessarily mean it's serious too."
(Vonnegut; p.86)

"Patty Keene was stupid on purpose, which was the case with most women in Midland City. The women all had big minds because they were big animals, but they did not use them much for this reason: unusual ideas could make enemies, and the women, if they were going to achieve any sort of comfort and safety, needed all the friends they could get."
(Vonnegut; p.136)

"I thought Beatrice Keedsler had joined hands with other old-fashioned storytellers to make people believe that life had leading characters, minor characters, significant details, insignificant details, that it had lessons to be learned, tests to be passed, and a beginning, a middle, and an end."
(Vonnegut; p. 209)

"I now give you my word of honor," he went on, "that the picture your city owns shows everything about life which truly matters, with nothing left out. It is a picture of the awareness of every animal. It is the immaterial core of every animal—the 'I am' to which all messages are sent. It is all that is alive in any of us—in a mouse, in a deer, in a cocktail waitress. It is unwavering and pure, no matter what preposterous adventure may befall us. A sacred picture of Saint Anthony alone is one vertical, unwavering band of light. If a cockroach were near him, or a cocktail waitress, the picture would show two such bands of light. Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in any of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery."
(Vonnegut; p.221)

Just a few of my favorites. This book is so worth reading :)



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