This book is a hilarious send-up of irresponsible scientists. Especially funny were the early descriptions of Dr. Felix Hoenikker, inventor of the A-bomb and ice-nine. Vonnegut there launches a masterful satire of the supposedly innocent and harmless scientist who, full of child-like curiosity, tries to evade the adult burden of moral responsibility by not inquiring into the potential applications of his inventions. In the case of Dr. Hoenikker, the evasion appears to have been complete -- the narrator finds Hoenikker's old lab to be full of childish, dime-store toys.

The figure of the irresponsible tinkerer is later skewered in the form of Dr. Hoenikker's older son, Franklin Hoenikker. Though not really a scientist, Frank is adept at technical work. He declines an offer of political power in San Lorenzo (an impoverished island republic) in order to oversee the island's technical operations. This prompts the narrator to muse about the ‘abrupt abdication of Frank from all human affairs’ (ch. 100). Later, a character says, ‘My agreeing to be boss had freed Frank to do what he wanted to do more than anything else, to do what his father had done: to receive honors and creature comforts while escaping human responsibilities.’ (ch. 100) Like his father before him (and like the island's ex-Nazi physician), Frank aspires to be an amoral tool at the disposal of the powers that be -- whatever those powers may be.

Vonnegut extends his critique beyond scientists to science itself. His message seems to be that while science is indeed the only road to knowledge, it cannot yield truths of a moral or spiritual nature. Indeed, one might add that it is in the very nature of science not even to address such matters, for its empirical methods require dispassionate, value-neutral inquiry, and it is hard to see how moral or spiritual questions can even be broached, let alone resolved, in this manner.

This interpretation of Vonnegut is borne out by at least a couple of passages in Cat's Cradle.

First, in a bar-room exchange early in the story, a prominent scientist is reported to have said that science can end our troubles and 'discover the basic secret of life.' (ch. 11) The bartender adds that according to the local newspaper, scientists have now discovered this secret. But the discovery is not the grand revelation that we were led to expect. After some effort in trying to recall the details of the news report, the bartender recalls that the secret is 'protein'.

Second, near the end of the book, Frank's entomological inquiries prompt the narrator's recollection of a passage from The Books of Bokonon (a religious text), which runs as follows:

‘Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before. … He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way.’ (ch. 124)

The suggestion is that while Frank may indeed 'learn something', his inquiries won't yield any real wisdom (or moral-spiritual knowledge).

Science is thus limited, Vonnegut implies, but remains the only road to knowledge. Nothing else fills the epistemic void that it leaves; for nothing, religion included, can answer truthfully the questions from which science shies away. Bokononism, the religion outlined in the novel, acknowledges this with its paradoxical claim that Bokononism itself is 'shameless lies.' (ch. 4; cf. ch. 78 and ch. 98)

Nevertheless, Vonnegut apparently sees religion as performing a valuable function as long as it is humble enough to acknowledge the paradoxical and distorting nature of its own proclamations (which leads to some vexing questions about the status of the above Bokononist quotation). It's all well and good to say with Wittgenstein, 'Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent,' but (Vonnegut seems to say) whereof one cannot but speak, thereof one may hold forth even if only in a self-consciously paradoxical fashion.

In support of this last interpretation of Vonnegut, he once pointed out that back when Marx dubbed religion the opiate of the masses, opium was generally the only available pain-killer; so Marx's idea might today be better expressed by calling religion the Aspirin of the masses. And what's wrong with Aspirin? Here’s another video, this one of Vonnegut talking specifically about Cat’s Cradle. ( )

The telling of the end of the world via ice-nine lets Vonnegut give great insights into science, religion, and life. A very exciting book with mystery and humor. I enjoyed it a lot and am wondering where the nearest Bokonon church is. At times it can be hard to keep track of the characters. ( )

I know it is supposed to be a good book, but I found it off-puttingly anti-intellectual and couldn't like it.
In the almost exact words used by one of the characters, the whole book seems aimed at getting us to admit that scientists are heartless, conscienceless, narrow boobies, indifferent to the fate of the rest of the human race, or maybe not really members of the human race at all. ( )

This summer I had solicited book recommedations from my friends, and was pleasantly surprised to have Cat’s Cradle recommended to me. I had previously only read Slaugherhouse Five by Vonnegut, and while I really liked it, I questioned whether or not I would really like to read other books in his oddly structured style. Well after reading Cat’s Cradle I can only say that those worries were unfounded. (Note to those who are intimidated by seeing a new chapter every other page or so: just ignore the chapter names and keep reading.) Other than what I just mentioned, I had no clue what I was getting into, and the name didn’t give me any hints.

So let’s sit down, take our shoes off and put our feet together and talk about this. No really, I’m being serious, at least for the purpose of this review. Sitting facing each other with our feet touching, according to the Bokononists of San Lorenzo island, is the most intimate way to talk to someone and have a complete understanding with them. Cat’s Cradle starts out with our narrator, Jonah, working on a book about Felix Hoenikker, a fictional scientist, and equally the fictional “father of the atomic bomb”. However as the narrator’s mind changes about whether he’s going to actually write this book or not , the story itself changes. Read Mor ( )

I don't know if I can add anything that has not been said before, but I will say that this book is hilarious and mind-bending, which is always nice. ( )