A very brief review of Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse Five”

An original American doozy if ever there was one.

I finally had the chance to finish it, after three attempts.

Not that it’s difficult to read or anything. But, well, life you see.

So it goes.

This is a PTSD (anti-)war narrative in the form of an absurdist sci-fi story.

I wish I could go through something like this myself – literally live out a Tralfamadorian journey of non-linear temporality – but I have no interest in experiencing war and mass butchery in order to do so.

Nor am I keen on having to engage in forced propaganda that returning soldiers must parrot to ensure the military industrial complex escapes justice.

Now, as a recently minted American, I daresay 2023 is different in terms of the masses accepting war propaganda without challenge.

Nonetheless, I read this book with a fear that the only thing that will prevent our society from alienated decay and mass torpor is, ironically enough, crisis or disaster.

It sobered the ever-living crap out of me.

The monograph on American prisoners of war and its note on American social relations could well be written about vast swathes of my adopted country today.

It is a brutal reflection on American classism and loathing for cooperation, but it could also be written about vast swathes of any society in our current time.

As we journey through a fascinating new phase in technology, information, and individualized access, we’re alienating ourselves and parasocializing at the same time.

Then again…

Is it really all that bad?

Meh. The more I know, the dumber I feel.

So what do I know?

Poo-tee-weet indeed.