Could you expand on the idea that Small Gods is a parody of Canticle, PictsiePat? They’re two of my favorite novels, but I can’t say I’ve ever noticed any connection.
I love Vonnegut. I first started reading him when I was about 13… and I still don’t understand most of it. 
My favorites are Cat’s Cradle, Player Piano (twas my first), Galapagos and Welcome to the Monkey House.
Timeline, while a great concept, I didn’t like. I’ve read it twice and listened to the book on tape twice and I still don’t like it. (Though Lawrence Pressman does a great job of reading it).
Deadeye Dick was my favorite. Unfortunately, I don’t remember why anymore. Gotta read that again.
Freshman year was a blur.
Apparently you are still missing the point. :rolleyes:
Small Gods is not a parody of Canticle. It would be pointless to parody Canticle, a novel that itself is a deadpan comedy about the human race, and Pratchett would know this.
The two stories do have a few superficialities in common: they both take place in a monestary in a desert-like country, some of characters are monks, and there’s some talk about religion. Oh, and they’re both quite funny.
Small Gods is a thinly-veiled diatribe against religions and strictly-encoded socities that are built on hate and fear (but not against religion as such). It’s a bit like the Gospels, except it’s one where Jesus doesn’t die.
Canticle is about the cyclic nature of human history, and of how knowledge and technology is power and power corrupts, and how every precariously-built civilization holds within it a seed of self-destruction.
Canticle is easily one of my favourite novels. Notice how the narrative speeds up as society progresses (or “progresses”, if you will). The first part is like watching paint dry. On a hot day. In the middle of a desert. With no lemonade. Easily my favourite part of the novel, though. In the second part things start rolling. And in the third part things are out of control.
Notice how uncertain and uncaring history is. The main character of the novel’s first part meets a quick death (off stage, if I remember correctly) in the second. Good people tend to die. Well, people tend to die, period. Notice the cosmic ironies, like Leibowitz’ shopping list being illuminated by a sacred order of monks.
Notice the subtle religious and spiritual undertones. Like the strange guy that keeps popping up throughout the books, or the women at the end. There’s also tons of moral issues, like the euthanasia booths, or the moral responsibility of science.
Third time lucky, maybe?
I just started reading Vonnegut - I read Galapagos first (no reason other than I get whatever the local used bookstore has in stock) and thought it was decent, then just recently read Slaughterhouse Five, which I liked more.
That said, by the end of the book, I was so fucking sick of seeing “so it goes” that I wanted to throw the goddamn thing accross the room.
I don’t recall any reference to an apocalypse in either of the stories you’re referencing. They were just presented as what society would be, a hundred or more years hence, if innovations that seemed like a good idea took hold (suppressing sexual desire; prolonging life) and we just kept rolling along, but in the wrong direction.
I’ve read most of his stuff, but the only books I cared to read again were CC, SH5, and WttMH. BoC I couldn’t even finish. I’m not of the school that thinks that if someone writes one thing that’s really good (SH5) and a couple others that are almost as good, that that means all their output is automatically pure gold.
One story from MH that went right past me was “Ready to Wear”. About the people who’d found a way to become “amphibious” and leave their bodies, but still grab at the chance to “borrow” a good-looking, healthy body when they could, then whine and protest when this was declared illegal. So they wanted it both ways—why? Was I supposed to sympathize with them or not, and if not, what was the message?
Also didn’t like “Long Walk to Forever”, about a young man meeting up with his old sweetheart the weekend before she’s going to marry someone else. They go for a walk, and of course she ends up choosing him. Gr! I hate that no matter how it’s presented, and this story in particular almost inspired a friend of mine to pull an I’mSoForlorn just before his old GF’s wedding. (I talked him out of it, though.)
That said, I did like “Adam” and “The Euphio Question” (read it for the first time when I was drunk…imagine how that grabbed me!) and “All the King’s Horses” and “The Lie”. I do appreciate that KV’s not always completely cynical.
At least you picked the best two not to like!
Ah, Cat’s Cradle. Just great. And Slaughterhouse Five was made into a terrific movie (surprise!).
However, KVJ is something like Woody Allen and Mel Brooks and Robert Heinlein - there’s enough “sameness” in their works that you shouldn’t read/watch too many at a time. Pick one up every couple of years. Especially his “middle” period when all the novels had the same characters and same goofiness.
I read all of the novels up to Breakfast of Champions by my mid 20s (about 1980), most of them several times. But I haven’t had any interest in the later ones. I think I started one or two, but didn’t get past the first few pages. Don’t know why.
I, too, have met Mr. V, about 10 years ago at the museum at which I used to work. He’s enormously tall, at least 6-foot 4 or 5 inches (2 meters), which is unusual for a man his age (he’s 83 now). His young son (who was about 7 or 8 ten years ago) just ran up to me and hugged me for no apparent reason. It struck me as rather unusual.
I got an autograph on a copy of Galapagos, the only hardbound book of his I owned, and I still haven’t read the book.
I loved the early books when I was a younger person, but I’m not sure I’d like them so much now that I’m an old fart. I suppose I should try and see, and give some of those “new” books a shot, too. Maybe when I’m over my current Jeeves and Wooster kick.
Well, I’ve learned from experience: start at the top. That way, I don’t have to go through endless rounds, “Oh, but you didn’t read the good stuff!”
My favorite is Slapstick. It’s got the post-apocalyptic thing, sort of, but it’s really about the relationship between the narrator and his twin sister, who are incredibly close as children, as well as being totally misunderstood by their parents, and are forced apart as they grow up. I’ve always wondered if it is semi-autobiographical. Does anyone know if KV had a sister he was close to?
He did something similar in Jailbird. Every time you were shown a powerful or somehow affecting event, the narrator would look at you (seemingly) and say, “Tough stuff.” I remember being disappointed that someone as talented as Vonnegut felt he had to “lead” the reader that way. Never did finish Jailbird, and I think that played a fair part in it.
I didn’t think that S5 was his greatest. It was great, I guess, but it wasn’t Vonnegut-y enough for me - I don’t normally have much patience for autobiographies or histories (a major failing of mine). The ending, tho, was spectacular.
For those who want to get away from the Vonnegut schtick (which I completely understand), I think your best bets are Galapagos and Hocus Pocus, which are still surreal, but more novel-ly (I think) than stream-of-conscious rambling, which his other ones can tend toward.
V: I completely agree about “The Long Walk To Forever.” Makes me angry every time I read it.
One thing I love about Vonnegut is he has interesting characters of all genders and races (which is surprisingly unusual for novelists, I’ve found). For example, Dwayne Hoover’s wife (in BoC) was always a tragic character I found intriguing. The woman in TLWtF, though, stunk up the joint.
If I remember correctly, the last book Vonnegut wrote was God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian. In which he goes through a number of controlled suicides to report on the afterlife. A short, but good read.
I’ve liked about all of his books, with the exception of Timequake.
How weird. When I previewed, that said Rilchiam.
So it goes. . .
Next to “Billy Christian got unstuck in time.”
Oh such smiles.
So it goes. . .
to be in Dresden in the Springtime.
So it goes. . .