No and I would rather not.
What I loved about Breakfast of Champions was how the narrative would often trail off into short character sketches, anecdotes, amateur illustrations, plots for novels and short stories, reflections from Vonnegut on American history, childhood rhymes, family, fatalism, mental illness, suicide, abstract art, and other things I can't remember well.
The novel felt like an animated mental mapping of this one brilliant, idiosyncratic writer. It relies heavily on Vonnegut's voice, even his presence. As the self-concious author overlooking Midland City, a morally rotting world hidden within our own, he personifies the indifferent god of his ideology and pontificates about his place within the general malaise of modern America - with clever dark humour and humanism of course.
reply
share