Vonnegut's book is, to what I've read, one pass. Later, when I finished the book that is costing me quite finish it for two reasons: 1 I like to reread paragraphs own and gets the feeling that is what we mean, 2 ° Because despite being on holiday I have not much time.
I think a book visionary, ahead of its time, and all this I say from my humble ignorance (yes, humble). Finally, I want to transcribe a few paragraphs of the book to enjoy them and comenteis, of course. The first is, again, in my humble ignorance, a perfect definition:
Waltham Kittredge often failed in their attempt to express in words the atmosphere of the class of Rumford. As a teacher he was, big words blindly buscabaa , and finding no adequate, had coined a lot of words new and untranslatable "
Now almost all the front page of the book, which I think fully describe again now or what may be the near future:
" Now everyone knows how to find the meaning of dento life yourself. But humanity was not always so lucky. Less than a century ago men and women do not have easy access to puzzle boxes within them. They could not even name them any of the 53 gates of the soul. The religions of trash was big business. Mankind, ignorant of the truths that lie within every human being, looked out, was pushing ever outward. In his drive out humanity trusted to know who was responsible for all creation and what it was all creation.
Mankind launched its advanced players out, out. At the precise moment threw them into space, colorless, tasteless, weightless sea of \u200b\u200bendless externality. Threw them like stones. These unhappy agents found what they had found in abundance on Earth-a nightmare with no end, no sense. The gifts of space, the infinite exteriority, were three: empty Heroism, cheap comedy [...] futile death was only to explore the inner-soul. "And I do not walk away and close the post without forget that great phrase of Malachi Constant "I guess somebody up there who likes me."
