A young writer investigating a scientist responsible for creating the atomic bomb goes to a tropical island republic in an attempt to hear the stories of the great man’s children. He finds out not only about the socially oblivious eccentric who seemed totally detached from reality, but about his final creation, the mysterious substance Ice-9.
This was my first experience of Vonnegut’s writing, but it certainly won’t be my last. Vonnegut’s style is absolutely superb. He writes in short chapters, each of them a pithy self-contained episode, more often than not brutally dissecting a character or situation, and almost always provoking some sort of strong reaction. The book is wilfully excessive – I am reminded, of all things, of The Visit by Dürrenmatt – with broadly-drawn characters defined by their peculiar quirks, a storyline that illustrates subtle ideas by blowing them out of proportion, and a fine streak of black humour, as well as some moments of beautiful delicacy in the language. One of the most amusing parts of the book is Bokononism – the invented religion centred on humanity’s total incapability to understand the will of God, and the futility of trying to find any sort of truth, all conveyed with an endearing winsome simplicity that seldom failed to make me laugh. The idea of Bokonon and the island leaders constantly playing roles of good vs. evil to keep the people happy also really resonated with me. The book was full of superb ideas, all told with a glib concision that made it impossible to lose interest.
A novel I would recommend to anyone, and which I’m grateful was given to me. I’m not sure it’ll make a particularly good film, much of the humour of the first half being very literary, but it seems there’s one in the making. I’ll have to wait and see…
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