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God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater: A Novel
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“[Vonnegut] at his wildest best.”—The New York Times Book Review
Eliot Rosewater—drunk, volunteer fireman, and President of the fabulously rich Rosewater Foundation—is about to attempt a noble experiment with human nature . . . with a little help from writer Kilgore Trout. God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater is Kurt Vonnegut’s funniest satire, an etched-in-acid portrayal of the greed, hypocrisy, and follies of the flesh we are all heir to.
“A brilliantly funny satire on almost everything.”—Conrad Aiken
“[Vonnegut was] our finest black humorist. . . . We laugh in self-defense.”—The Atlantic Monthly
- Print length288 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherDial Press Trade Paperback
- Publication dateSeptember 8, 1998
- Dimensions5.25 x 0.62 x 8.01 inches
- ISBN-100385333471
- ISBN-13978-0385333474
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| Customer Reviews |
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| “[A] desperate, painfully honest attempt to confront the monstrous crimes of the twentieth century” (Time). | “A free-wheeling vehicle . . . an unforgettable ride!”—The New York Times | “Marvelous . . . [Vonnegut] wheels out all the complaints about America and makes them seem fresh, funny, outrageous, hateful and lovable.”—The New York Times | “[Kurt Vonnegut’s] best book . . . He dares not only ask the ultimate question about the meaning of life, but to answer it.”—Esquire | “Vonnegut is George Orwell, Dr. Caligari and Flash Gordon compounded into one writer . . . a zany but moral mad scientist.”—Time | A collection of Kurt Vonnegut’s shorter works. “There are twenty-five stories here, and each hits a nerve ending.”—The Charlotte Observer |
Editorial Reviews
Review
“A brilliantly funny satire on almost everything.”—Conrad Aiken
“[Vonnegut was] our finest black humorist. . . . We laugh in self-defense.”—The Atlantic Monthly
From the Back Cover
About the Author
Kurt Vonnegut’s humor, satiric voice, and incomparable imagination first captured America’s attention in The Sirens of Titan in 1959 and established him as “a true artist” (The New York Times) with Cat’s Cradle in 1963. He was, as Graham Greene declared, “one of the best living American writers.” Mr. Vonnegut passed away in April 2007.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The sum was $87,472,033.61 on June 1, 1964, to pick a day. That was the day it caught the soft eyes of a boy shyster named Norman Mushari. The income the interesting sum produced was $3,500,000 a year, nearly $10,000 a day--Sundays, too.
The sum was made the core of a charitable and cultural foundation in 1947, when Norman Mushari was only six. Before that, it was the fourteenth largest family fortune in America, the Rosewater fortune. It was stashed into a foundation in order that tax-collectors and other predators not named Rosewater might be prevented from getting their hands on it. And the baroque masterpiece of legal folderol that was the charter of the Rosewater Foundation declared, in effect, that the presidency of the Foundation was to be inherited in the same manner as the British Crown. It was to be handed down throughout all eternity to the closest and oldest heirs of the Foundation's creator, Senator Lister Ames Rosewater of Indiana.
Siblings of the President were to become officers of the Foundation upon reaching the age of twenty-one. All officers were officers for life, unless proved legally insane. They were free to compensate themselves for their services as lavishly as they pleased, but only from the Foundation's income.
As required by law, the charter prohibited the Senator's heirs having anything to do with the management of the Foundation's capital. Caring for the capital became the responsibility of a corporation that was born simultaneously with the Foundation. It was called, straightforwardly enough, The Rosewater Corporation. Like almost all corporations, it was dedicated to prudence and profit, to balance sheets. Its employees were very well paid. They were cunning and happy and energetic on that account. Their main enterprise was the churning of stocks and bonds of other corporations. A minor activity was the management of a saw factory, a bowling alley, a motel, a bank, a brewery, extensive farms in Rosewater County, Indiana, and some coal mines in northern Kentucky.
The Rosewater Corporation occupied two floors at 500 Fifth Avenue, in New York, and maintained small branch offices in London, Tokyo, Buenos Aires and Rosewater County. No member of the Rosewater Foundation could tell the Corporation what to do with the capital. Conversely, the Corporation was powerless to tell the Foundation what to do with the copious profits the Corporation made.
These facts became known to young Norman Mushari when, upon graduating from Cornell Law School at the top of his class, he went to work for the Washington, D.C., law firm that had designed both the Foundation and the Corporation, the firm of McAllister, Robjent, Reed and McGee. He was of Lebanese extraction, the son of a Brooklyn rug merchant. He was five feet and three inches tall. He had an enormous ass, which was luminous when bare.
He was the youngest, the shortest, and by all odds the least Anglo-Saxon male employee in the firm. He was put to work under the most senile partner, Thurmond McAllister, a sweet old poop who was seventy-six. He would never have been hired if the other partners hadn't felt that McAllister's operations could do with just a touch more viciousness.
No one ever went out to lunch with Mushari. He took nourishment alone in cheap cafeterias, and plotted the violent overthrow of the Rosewater Foundation. He knew no Rosewaters. What engaged his emotions was the fact that the Rosewater fortune was the largest single money package represented by McAllister, Robjent, Reed and McGee. He recalled what his favorite professor, Leonard Leech, once told him about getting ahead in law. Leech said that, just as a good airplane pilot should always be looking for places to land, so should a lawyer be looking for situations where large amounts of money were about to change hands.
"In every big transaction," said Leech, "there is a magic moment during which a man has surrendered a treasure, and during which the man who is due to receive it has not yet done so. An alert lawyer will make that moment his own, possessing the treasure for a magic microsecond, taking a little of it, passing it on. If the man who is to receive the treasure is unused to wealth, has an inferiority complex and shapeless feelings of guilt, as most people do, the lawyer can often take as much as half the bundle, and still receive the recipient's blubbering thanks."
The more Mushari rifled the firm's confidential files relative to the Rosewater Foundation, the more excited he became. Especially thrilling to him was that part of the charter which called for the immediate expulsion of any officer adjudged insane. It was common gossip in the office that the very first president of the Foundation, Eliot Rosewater, the Senator's son, was a lunatic. This characterization was a somewhat playful one, but as Mushari knew, playfulness was impossible to explain in a court of law. Eliot was spoken of by Mushari's co-workers variously as "The Nut," "The Saint," "The Holy Roller," "John the Baptist," and so on.
"By all means," Mushari mooned to himself, "we must get this specimen before a judge."
From all reports, the person next in line to be President of the Foundation, a cousin in Rhode Island, was inferior in all respects. When the magic moment came, Mushari would represent him.
Mushari, being tone-deaf, did not know that he himself had an office nickname. It was contained in a tune that someone was generally whistling when he came or went. The tune was "Pop Goes the Weasel."
Eliot Rosewater became President of the Foundation in 1947. When Mushari began to investigate him seventeen years later, Eliot was forty-six. Mushari, who thought of himself as brave little David about to slay Goliath, was exactly half his age. And it was almost as though God Himself wanted little David to win, for confidential document after document proved that Eliot was crazy as a loon.
In a locked file inside the firm's vault, for instance, was an envelope with three seals on it--and it was supposed to be delivered unopened to whomever took over the Foundation when Eliot was dead.
Inside was a letter from Eliot, and this is what it said:
Dear Cousin, or whoever you may be--
Congratulations on your great good fortune. Have fun. It may increase your perspective to know what sorts of manipulators and custodians your unbelievable wealth has had up to now.
Like so many great American fortunes, the Rosewater pile was accumulated in the beginning by a humorless, constipated Christian farm boy turned speculator and briber during and after the Civil War. The farm boy was Noah Rosewater, my great-grandfather, who was born in Rosewater County, Indiana.
Noah and his brother George inherited from their pioneer father six hundred acrees of farmland, land as dark and rich as chocolate cake, and a small saw factory that was nearly bankrupt. War came.
George raised a rifle company, marched away at its head.
Noah hired a village idiot to fight in his place, converted the saw factory to the manufacture of swords and bayonets, converted the farm to the raising of hogs. Abraham Lincoln declared that no amount of money was too much to pay for the restoration of the Union, so Noah priced his merchandise in scale with the national tragedy. And he made this discovery: Government objections to the price or quality of his wares could be vaporized with bribes that were pitifully small.
He married Cleota Herrick, the ugliest woman in Indiana, because she had four hundred thousand dollars. With her money he expanded the factory and bought more farms, all in Rosewater County. He became the largest individual hog farmer in the North. And, in order not to be victimized by meat packers, he bought controlling interest in an Indianapolis slaughterhouse. In order not to be victimized by steel suppliers, he bought controlling interest in a steel company in Pittsburgh. In order not to be victimized by coal suppliers, he bought controlling interest in several mines. In order not to be victimized by money lenders, he founded a bank.
And his paranoid reluctance to be a victim caused him to deal more and more in valuable papers, in stocks and bonds, and less and less in swords and pork. Small experiments with worthless papers convinced him that such papers could be sold effortlessly. While he continued to bribe persons in government to hand over treasuries and national resources, his first enthusiasm became the peddling of watered stock.
When the United States of America, which was meant to be a Utopia for all, was less than a century old, Noah Rosewater and a few men like him demonstrated the folly of the Founding Fathers in one respect: those sadly recent ancestors had not made it the law of the Utopia that the wealth of each citizen should be limited. This oversight was engendered by a weak-kneed sympathy for those who loved expensive things, and by the feeling that the continent was so vast and valuable, and the population so thin and enterprising, that no thief, no matter how fast he stole, could more than mildly inconvenience anyone.
Noah and a few like him perceived that the continent was in fact finite, and that venal office-holders, legislators in particular, could be persuaded to toss up great hunks of it for grabs, and to toss them in such a way as to have them land where Noah and his kind were standing.
Thus did a handful of rapacious citizens come to control all that was worth controlling in America. Thus was the savage and stupid and entirely inappropriate and unnecessary and humorless American class system created. Honest, industrious, peaceful citizens were classed as bloodsuckers, if they asked to be paid a living wage. And they saw that praise was reserved henceforth for those who devised means of getting paid enormously for committing crimes against which no laws had been passed. Thus the American dream turned belly up, turned green, bobbed to the scummy surface of cupidity unlimited, filled with gas, went bang in the noonday sun.
E pluribus unum is surely an ironic motto to inscribe on the currency of this Utopia gone bust, for every grotesquely rich American represents property, privileges, and pleasures that have been denied the many. An even more instructive motto, in the light of history made by the Noah Rosewaters, might be: Grab much too much, or you'll get nothing at all.
And Noah begat Samuel, who married Geraldine Ames Rockefeller. Samuel became even more interested in politics than his father had been, served the Republican Party tirelessly as a king-maker, caused that party to nominate men who would whirl like dervishes, bawl fluent Babylonian, and order the militia to fire into crowds whenever a poor man seemed on the point of suggesting that he and a Rosewater were equal in the eyes of the law.
And Samuel bought newspapers, and preachers, too. He gave them this simple lesson to teach, and they taught it well: Anybody who thought that the United States of America was supposed to be a Utopia was a piggy, lazy, God-damned fool. Samuel thundered that no American factory hand was worth more than eighty cents a day. And yet he could be thankful for the opportunity to pay a hundred thousand dollars or more for a painting by an Italian three centuries dead. And he capped this insult by giving paintings to museums for the spiritual elevation of the poor. The museums were closed on Sundays.
And Samuel begat Lister Ames Rosewater, who married Eunice Eliot Morgan. There was something to be said for Lister and Eunice: unlike Noah and Cleota and Samuel and Geraldine, they could laugh as though they meant it. As a curious footnote to history, Eunice became Woman's Chess Champion of the United States in 1927, and again in 1933.
Eunice also wrote an historical novel about a female gladiator, Ramba of Macedon, which was a best-seller in 1936. Eunice died in 1937, in a sailing accident in Cotuit, Massachusetts. She was a wise and amusing person, with very sincere anxieties about the condition of the poor. She was my mother.
Her husband, Lister, never was in business. From the moment of his birth to the time I am writing this, he has left the manipulation of his assets to lawyers and banks. He has spent nearly the whole of his adult life in the Congress of the United States, teaching morals, first as a Representative from the district whose heart is Rosewater County, and then as Senator from Indiana. That he is or ever was an Indiana person is a tenuous political fiction. And Lister begat Eliot.
Lister has thought about the effects and implications of his inherited wealth about as much as most men think about their left big toes. The fortune has never amused, worried, or tempted him. Giving ninety-five per cent of it to the Foundation you now control didn't cause him a twinge.
And Eliot married Sylvia DuVrais Zetterling, a Parisienne beauty who came to hate him. Her mother was a patroness of painters. Her father was the greatest living cellist. Her maternal grandparents were a Rothschild and a DuPont.
And Eliot became a drunkard, a Utopian dreamer, a tinhorn saint, an aimless fool.
Begat he not a soul.
Bon voyage, dear Cousin or whoever you are. Be generous. Be kind. You can safetly ignore the arts and sciences. They never helped anybody. Be a sincere, attentive friend of the poor.
The letter was signed,
The late Eliot Rosewater.
His heart going like a burglar alarm, Norman Mushari hired a large safe-deposit box, and he put the letter into it. That first piece of solid evidence would not be lonesome long.
Mushari went back to his cubicle, reflected that Sylvia was in the process of divorcing Eliot, with old McAllister representing the defendant. She was living in Paris, and Mushari wrote a letter to her, suggesting that it was customary in friendly, civilized divorce actions for litigants to return each other's letters. He asked her to send him any letters from Eliot that she might have saved.
He got fifty-three such letters by return mail.
Product details
- Publisher : Dial Press Trade Paperback
- Publication date : September 8, 1998
- Language : English
- Print length : 288 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0385333471
- ISBN-13 : 978-0385333474
- Item Weight : 2.31 pounds
- Dimensions : 5.25 x 0.62 x 8.01 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #30,970 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #130 in Humorous American Literature
- #278 in Fiction Satire
- #437 in Humorous Fiction
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

Kurt Vonnegut was a writer, lecturer and painter. He was born in Indianapolis in 1922 and studied biochemistry at Cornell University. During WWII, as a prisoner of war in Germany, he witnessed the destruction of Dresden by Allied bombers, an experience which inspired Slaughterhouse Five. First published in 1950, he went on to write fourteen novels, four plays, and three short story collections, in addition to countless works of short fiction and nonfiction. He died in 2007.
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3 stars because I’m a little disappointed with the condition of the cover
Top reviews from the United States
- 5 out of 5 stars
A good read with a nice message
Reviewed in the United States on September 9, 2013Vonnegut claims that "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater" is a novel about people whose leading character is money. The protagonist, Eliot Rosewater, has inherited millions of dollars (earned from robber baron ancestors) in a charitable foundation used as a tax shelter. He, however, uses it as an actual charitable foundation. His father thinks he's crazy for giving away money; a lawyer and a cousin want to prove he's crazy to get his money; his wife doesn't think he's crazy, but can't stand it in any case.
However, while money does feature prominently, it would be a mistake to think that the novel is about money. A recent Goodreads review describes it in terms of Occupy Wall Street: "If you belong to the one-percent economic bracket, prepare to be mocked by Kurt Vonnegut. If you are a 99-percenter, prepare to realize that the joke's still on you." However, money is just the flavoring, not the dish itself. The rich folks range from charitable to greedy and industrious to lazy and ignorant, and being charitable is the experiment of someone who is far from normal.
I see this, like many of Vonnegut's works, as a humanist novel. The book is about loving people even if they're useless, annoying, greedy, or ignorant. Even if they hate you. Even if they say "God bless you, Mr. Rosewater" ironically egotistically. His baptism was also great: "Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies -- God damn it, you've got to be kind."
Some people criticized the ending, but I liked it. I can understand the criticism -- it was abrupt. However, it was also fitting. It felt right for the characters, right for the story, and right for the message. Also, the musical rendition of the ending was pretty fun (don't listen to it if you don't want a spoiler).
God bless you, Mr. Rosewater.
12 people found this helpfulSending feedback...Sending feedback...HelpfulThank you for your feedback.Sorry, we failed to record your vote. Please try againThanks, we'll investigate in the next few days.Sorry, We failed to report this review. Please try again - 4 out of 5 stars
Classic Vonnegut, but not perfect
Reviewed in the United States on February 2, 2013'God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater' is a novel about conflicting social viewpoints, specifically, socialism vs. capitalism (although, to be fair, I would have to say ultra-capitalism, considering the vast wealth of all the people involved). I am a huge Vonnegut fan, and although this book was good, and had many quotable lines, it was missing a key element that most Vonnegut stories have in abundance: a plot. There is no actual plot here, nor is there really a resolution. The psuedo-plot follows the attempt by Eliot Rosewater to use his inherited vast fortune to help the less fortunate, while his father attempts to bring him back into the fold (start using his money for what it was intended, making more money), before an opportunistic lawyer from the firm that handles the Rosewater fortune declares Eliot insane, thus putting the money in the hands of another branch of the Rosewater family. In reality, the book is mostly a social commentary centering mostly on debates/arguments between Eliot (the "socialist") and his father (the "capitalist"). What I found really amazing in the book, is how it illustrates the genuine fear that the rich have of any type of socialism, not because it threatens their vast wealth (that is pretty secure), but because it runs contrary to the way they believe things are supposed to be, the most extreme type of social darwinism. The rich in this novel don't consider the system to be unfair and they don't consider themselves "lucky", in fact, they look at the fact that they are rich as proof that they actually ARE better than everyone, and that their fortune is actually given to them in a divine manner, as if God himself chose them to be rich and above everyone else. Most of the characters in this book, especially the Rosewaters, are all on the extreme side of their coin, probably not reflecting any sort of reality, but it does make the book fun to read. Who will like this book? Only Vonnegut fans probably, or anyone that wants to see capitalism and the rich portrayed in the worst possible way.
16 people found this helpfulSending feedback...Sending feedback...HelpfulThank you for your feedback.Sorry, we failed to record your vote. Please try againThanks, we'll investigate in the next few days.Sorry, We failed to report this review. Please try again - 5 out of 5 stars
A different look at socialism
Reviewed in the United States on March 12, 2012This book is a rather interesting one, with a fair dose of humor and philosophy. This is the first book by Vonnegut which I've read and I found his writing style easy to read and very entertaining and witty. I can't say I agree with his economic philosophy - I tend more toward capitalism than socialism - but I appreciate the unique way he put his ideas across. The titular character, Eliot Rosewater, is in charge of administering the family fortune with power to do whatever he wants with it. At one point in his life, he decides to abandon the trappings of a rich lifestyle in favor of a more modest one. He moves to a backwards county home to lots of people labeled as worthless by upper society. While there, he offers to help anyone in need however he can, whether it includes providing money or other types of support.
While the people in need are very grateful to Eliot, most outsiders seem to look on his actions as evidence of his insanity. Eliot seems to be an alcoholic, but that bothers his father and others far less than his concern for the welfare of strangers. It's clear from Vonnegut's portrayal of Eliot's critics - his father and others each have their own issues - and the way they voice their criticisms that he's firmly on Eliot's side. Who wouldn't be - he's just a regular guy using his inheritance to help out the less fortunate. I find it interesting how Vonnegut seems to be pushing for people who can to help out the less fortunate, rather than having the government handling it. This approach to socialism is quite different - it's voluntary and individual. Even more importantly, Vonnegut makes a case against class distinction. The people Eliot helps need simple recognition as human beings and emotional aide even more than money. Too many people are like Eliot's father - too aloof and snobbish to give common people a second thought.
14 people found this helpfulSending feedback...Sending feedback...HelpfulThank you for your feedback.Sorry, we failed to record your vote. Please try againThanks, we'll investigate in the next few days.Sorry, We failed to report this review. Please try again - 3 out of 5 stars
What if you actually acted like Jesus
Reviewed in the United States on August 18, 2014A fun read. A moral lesson. Didn't end well. For any of us.
You'll have to read it see what I mean.
But superficially: the ending just quit. Vonnegut had to wrap it up somehow, and I don't much like how he did it. But it was probably the only way he could. (I must confess to have kept reading it, in part, just to see how he was going to get out of it!)
More from me without ruining it for you? Ummm, don't think so.
Let's just say this: What if you were born filthy rich and realized that that was unthinkably unfair? What if you actually acted like Jesus said we should act -- and, as a result, people thought you were crazy?
Fortunately it's a problem almost none of us will ever have to face.
4 people found this helpfulSending feedback...Sending feedback...HelpfulThank you for your feedback.Sorry, we failed to record your vote. Please try againThanks, we'll investigate in the next few days.Sorry, We failed to report this review. Please try again - 5 out of 5 stars
The Rosewater Curse
Reviewed in the United States on August 13, 2025The joy of caring for humans, who will crucify, draw-and-quarter, or sell you out to the highest bidder is behind Eliot Rosewater’s mad dash through the Hoosier heartland. Funny, sad, and remarkably insightful, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater is a profoundly important book on the human condition. I HIGHLY recommend it for anyone who’s ever had to deal with human beings…..
One person found this helpfulSending feedback...Sending feedback...HelpfulThank you for your feedback.Sorry, we failed to record your vote. Please try againThanks, we'll investigate in the next few days.Sorry, We failed to report this review. Please try again - 4 out of 5 stars
Great Book. Early Vonnegut!
Reviewed in the United States on January 26, 2026Great book but was bent in shipping.
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God Bless Mr. Rosewater
Reviewed in the United States on March 16, 2019God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater is a book about an extremely wealthy man who inherited his money from his father. Eliot has no real purpose in life and becomes obsessed with volunteer fire fighting after a tour of a firehouse. He trades his expensive suits for those like the firefighters wear because he wants to be more like them. Eliot begins to find purpose in life by spending his money, through his foundation, to help those less fortunate than himself. He takes it to the extreme, even allowing someone to live in his mansion while he lives in a small apartment and giving cash to anyone who asks for it at any hour of the day. Others on the foundation do not support these decisions as they feel some people are taking advantage of his untethered generosity. He believes that everyone deserves help, regardless of socioeconomic status. He may be extreme in how he handles this revelation that helping others makes his life much more fulfilling, but he doesn't care if people think he is insane for doing it. Overall, this is a good book and Eliot makes the point that no one person is better than another and it is right to treat others the way you would like to be treated.
4 people found this helpfulSending feedback...Sending feedback...HelpfulThank you for your feedback.Sorry, we failed to record your vote. Please try againThanks, we'll investigate in the next few days.Sorry, We failed to report this review. Please try again - 5 out of 5 stars
One of my favorites
Reviewed in the United States on October 27, 2025I lost my copy and this is a favorite of mine. Had to replace this unforgettable book!
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Top reviews from other countries
Muthuvel Deivendran5 out of 5 starsGod Bless you Mr. Vonnegut
Reviewed in India on September 15, 2019Getting to know about Kurt Vonnegut is one of the fewer sweetest things ever happened in my life. This is my 15th book of Vonnegut for the record and it primarily deals with the most humane lesson I could ever think which is being kind and loving to the people one is not familiar with, irrespective of who they are and why they do or don't. I know it all sound like an emotional outburst but it's honest and pathetically genuine. God bless you, Mr. Vonnegut and I'm glad to have found you in this vast crazy universe.

Getting to know about Kurt Vonnegut is one of the fewer sweetest things ever happened in my life. This is my 15th book of Vonnegut for the record and it primarily deals with the most humane lesson I could ever think which is being kind and loving to the people one is not familiar with, irrespective of who they are and why they do or don't. I know it all sound like an emotional outburst but it's honest and pathetically genuine. God bless you, Mr. Vonnegut and I'm glad to have found you in this vast crazy universe.
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AK5 out of 5 starsBiting satire on inheritance and mediocrity
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on October 1, 2013This is in my opinion one of the better Kurt Vonnegut books, where he brings all the insight and razor sharp criticism of the (modern) US society to bear like Duerrenmatt does for Switzerland (Meine Schweiz.: Ein Lesebuch) or Ryu Murakami does for Japan (but without the latter's violence). The book is focused on an inherited fortune, the people living off it and those wanting by all means to acquire it.
You have mental instability, sleazy lawyers, parodies of the moneyed classes and generally an indictment of both inheritance as a mechanism and the mediocrity it often (though by no means always) breeds. Yet it is not a one sided tirade against the rich or an uncritical endorsement of those financially less fortunate - mediocrity is addressed irrespective of what social strata the subjects are from.
The book is also a typical Vonnegut in its writing style, which may well make it a love it or hate it piece of work. It has plenty of quotable lines, is funny as well as somewhat chilling in its occassional prescience, and it definitely draws you in, in spite of the wealth of disparate characters and nothing so conventional as a linear storyline.
I found the book similar in style to the author's Breakfast Of Champions (Vintage Classics) and am sure that everyone who liked that one cannot go wrong here. It certainly requires being able to take a critical look at oneself to truly enjoy but is definitely well worth it.
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ivan5 out of 5 starsHappy
Reviewed in Germany on November 28, 2022Great product, fast delivery
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Douglas5 out of 5 starsMy first Vonnegut
Reviewed in Australia on August 31, 2023Having heard about KV on, (of all things) a TV quiz show, my curiosity was aroused. I like subtle comedy, intrigue and something different. Kurt delivers on all three. The story is both inane, yet compelling, laughable yet with a contemporary message for society, and the style of writing kept me connected to the characters completely. I shall be reading more of Mr Vonnegut.
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easindowntheroad5 out of 5 starsVonnegut fans will enjoy.
Reviewed in Canada on December 20, 2025Droll in the way all of Vonnegut's books are..
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