I finished Breakfast of Champions last night after a pleasant bath that was accompanied by a public radio program about Celtic music. I usually read in the bath, but this is not the sort of book one would wish to invite into such a tranquil spot.
All these hours later, I’m unsure if I liked the book or not. I mean. I recognize that the sexism in it is partly due to the time in which it was written, and partly to provoke, and that it’s written as social satire. I mean, it’s Vonnegut, you know?
On the other hand, this novel breaks the “fourth wall” often, seems to contradict itself, and is a little confusing, as it doesn’t seem to have much of a plot, and yet, the stories all tie together in the end.