A propagandist (who was actually a spy, who was actually disinterested in everthing except his wife) recounts his war and post-war experiences before being tried as a war criminal. It's Vonnegut's writing that seems to be entirely effortless, yet brilliant, that blows me away. Short chapters and simple words are infused with incredible meaning. Here combined with a subject he understands very well (WWII) it's powerful stuff. Every character seems to be real *and* surreal. Also tiring to read, because of the subject, and I was glad to be done, but I don't wish I hadn't read it. "We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." Certainly. ( )

one of my favorite books ever. i love the gloomy ending. i feel like doing the same thing all the time. perhaps i'll hang myself right after typing this. ( )

I think I've come to really like Vonnegut, this is the third novel of his I've read and I thought it was great. It's in as simple form as the others but still profound.
A man plays a part- he is an American spy in Nazi Germany, and spends his time broadcasting Nazi propaganda, interspersed with simple coded messages to his American spymasters. But he plays his part so well, influencing so many people with his propaganda, that he is put on trial for crimes against humanity in Israel. A case of playing your part too well? ( )

Howard Campbell is an American playwright who stumbled into a role as a Nazi propagandist, and was extremely good at it. On the other hand he was also an American agent, passing coded clues through his radio show. Howard writes while looking back on his life from a prison cell in Israel, where he is to be tried for war crimes.

Howard is essentially a nihilist; he denies the meaning of just about everything he has done or seen. He is still passionately in love with the wife he lost as the war ended. Has Howard become what he pretended to be? It appears that most of the interesting characters in the book are someone other than the face they present to the world, but we do not see the effect of their disguises as well as we see Howard's.

I don't regard this as one of Vonnegut's best works; it's certainly not on a par with Slaughterhouse Five or Cat's Cradle. It is, however, an interesting look at how continued pretense affects our being, and how tere can be many sides to an "obvious" situation. ( )

The book is written as a memoir by the imprisoned Campbell, in which he recalls the hows and whys of his transformation from a playwright specialised in romantic, non-politic plays to a star of the German propagandist machine. Throughout this journey he will in be contact with some of the more famous faces of WWII Germany (i.e. Adolf Eichmann), with an American White Supremacists organisation run by a dentist, with a Russian spy….you know, colourful characters to make an interesting story. What I loved the most was the permanent reminder that every story has to have a morale - starting with the “Editor’s Note”, where Vonnegut gives about 3 or 4 suggestions as to what this morale might be. And the one I see most fitting goes something like this “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend”. So, which one is the real Howard? The American spy who sacrificed himself for the sake of his wife, or the Nazi who offered the most quotable justifications of hatred towards Jews and other races live on the radio? He claims to have known all along that all he said were atrocities - and yet, his cover never faltered. How far does public pretense go, and when is it just plain cheating yourself? At one point he mentions his schizophrenia - but is this not just another cover, just another lie? It’s a bit like walking in quicksand with Howard Campbell jr - you don’t exactly know what’s safe and where you’ll sink into some sort of morality abyss. And Vonnegut’s half ironic, half dead serious language doesn’t help clarify things either…but you gotta love him for that

http://meerchant.wordpress.com/2008/0... ( )