This isn't one of my favorite books by him, but it's worth reading. I probably won't re-read it any time soon. I think his short collection, "Welcome to the Monkey House" & novels, "Slaughterhouse 5" & "The Sirens of Titan", were much better. Might just be the spot they touched in me, though. ( )

Best passages:I think I am trying to make my head as empty as it was when I was born onto this damaged planet fifty years ago.I suspect that this is something most white Americans, and nonwhite Americans who imitate white Americans, should do. The things other people hae put into my head, at any rate, do not fit together nicely, are offten useless and ugly, are out of proportion with one another, are out of proportion with life as it really is outside my head. I have no culture, no humane harmony in my brains. I can't live without a culture anymore.So this book is a sidewalk strewn with junk, trash which I throw over my shoulders as I travel in time back to November eleventh, nineteen hundred and twenty-two.I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. Whene I wasa boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent duringg the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden. Silence was the voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.p 15.1492The teachers told the children that this was when their continent was discovered by human beings. Actually, millions of human beings were already livingg full and imaginative lives on the continent in 1492. That was simply the year in which sea pirates began to cheat and rob and kill them. p. 18Here was the core of bad ideas which Trout gave to Dwayne: Everybody on Earth was a robot, with one exception--Dwayne Hoover.Of all the creatures in the Universe, only Dwayne was thinking and feeling and worrying and planning and so on. Nobody else knew what pain was. Nobody else had any choices to make. Everybody else was a fully automatic machine, whose purposee was to stimulate Dwayne. Dwayne was a new type of creature being tested by the Creator of the Universe.Only Dwayne Hoover had free will.Trout did not expect to be believed. He put the bad ideas into a science-fiction novel, and that was where Dwayne found them. The book wasn't addressed to Dwayne alone. Trout had never heard of Dwayne when he wrote it. It was addressed to anybody, in effect, "Hey--gues what: You're the only create with free will. How does that make you feel? And so on.It was a tour de force. It was a jeu d'espirit.But it was mind poison to Dwayne.It shook up Trout to realize that even he could bring evil into the world--in the form of bad ideas. And, after Dwayne was carted off to a lunatic asylum in a canvas camisole, Trout became a fanatic on the importance of ideas as causes and cures for diseases. But nobody would listen to him. He was a dirty old man in the wilderness, crying out among the trees and underbrush, "Ideas or the lack of them can cause disease!"Kilgore Trout became a pioneer in the field of mental health. He advanced his theories disguised as science-fiction. He died in 1981, almost 20 years after he made Dwayne Hoover so sick.He was then recognized as a great artist and scientist. The American Academy of Arts and Sciences caused a monument to be erected over his ashes. Carved in its face was a quotation from his last novel, his two-hundred-and-ninth novel, which was unfinished when he died. The monument looked like this:Kilgore Trout 1907-1981"We are healthy only to the extent that our ideas are humane"p.23p172“I now give you my word of honor,” he went on, “that the picture your city owns shows everything about life which truly matters, with nothing left out. It is a picture of the awareness of every animal. It is the immaterial core of every animal—the “I am” to which all messages are sent. It is all that is alive in any of us—in a mouse, in a deer, in a cocktail waitress. It is unwavering and pure, no matter what preposterous adventure may befall us. A sacred picture of Saint Anthony alone is one vertical, unwavering band of light. If a cockroach were near him, or a cocktail waitress, the picture would show two such bands of light. Our awareness is all that is alive and maybe sacred in any of us. Everything else about us is dead machinery.” ( )

Prior to Breakfast of Champions, my exposure to Vonnegut was limited to a short story I'd read in middle school named "Harrison Bergeron." Though I cared little about literature then, I was engrossed by the style and message of that story, and my interest in Vonnegut has now been reignited, especially because Breakfast of Champions isn't even considered his best work.

This book is crammed with so many creative ideas and stories that, had I not known it was written by the legendary Vonnegut, I would've assumed it was someone's singular novel. I'm not a fan of humor in literature, and I can't say Breakfast of Champions changed that, but it was still an entertaining, quick ride that induced many chuckles whilst proposing serious (albeit pessimistic and eccentric) answers to some of life's most interesting questions. Yes, the plot is tenuous and absurd, yet Vonnegut is at his best during his random divergences.

Dwayne Hoover is a business mogul of decrepit Midland City. He's going insane. Kilgore Trout, Vonnegut's quirky alter-ego, is a sci-fi writer who doesn't get the respect he deserves. He's been called to Midland City for an arts festival. When the two meet, an eruption of sorts is bound to occur.

Two elements make this even more distinct: Vonnegut's ink drawings and self-referential narration. Through simple but useful drawings, Vonnegut pokes fun at the insanity of American culture. Only some of these criticisms are outdated, and even they are interesting to read. Moreover, I've not seen anything akin to Vonnegut's prominent role in the narration towards the end of the book, which compensates for the weak climax.

Also deserving of a paragraph are the ingenious mini sci-fi stories Trout inspires. Many of them will no doubt be fleshed out by bored creative writing classes. Here's a snippet from one that exemplifies a, "tragic failure to communicate...A flying saucer creature named Zog arrived on Earth to explain how wars could be prevented and how cancer could be cured. He brought the information from Margo, a planet where the natives conversed by means of farts and tap dancing..."

And yet, these are just a few examples of everything here. The scope of Vonnegut's sharp commentary is remarkable considering the length of the book, even if it's not particularly story-driven.

I'm glad I took another dip with Vonnegut, whose writing remains fresh nearly forty years later. I'm beginning to understand why people were so sad when he passed away in 2007. This books affirms Vonnegut as a propulsive force in avant-garde literature. I only wish he were still around to give his take on the current state of the world. ( )

my mom got me hooked on vonnegut. the first book i read was god less you dr. kevorkian, i thought that was pretty funny. i love his humor. although i though that this book was a little hard to fallow i thought that it was a hilarious book. i just thought that this book was pretty random. vonnegut cracks me up, and i think that he is pretty unlike other others. i thik that vonnegut is unique. ( )

I liked the drawings in this book. I enjoyed this more than Slaughterhouse. ( )