A beautiful end to a book about, well, a beautiful end.

The end of Kurt Vonnegut's 1963 novel Cat's Cradle left me feeling content but wanting more, not in the sense of the story missing something, but the longing for more of Vonnegut's writing. The story stayed true to it's thematically ironic approach and overall lighthearted yet cynical tone. However, the frequently foreshadowed Apocalypse due to the chemical meant to free soldiers from mud in WWII played out beautifully, entertaining my always high expectations. The description of the world covered in the "poisonous blue-white frost" of ice-nine actually seemed like slightly pretty imagery if you take away the fact that frozen corpses litter the ground (189). Honestly, the place sounds pretty peaceful to me, I would not mind a little scenery change, or some peace and quiet, Vonnegut manages to make the demise of the planet Earth eerily serene. Unlike the modern pop-culture references to a bloody, fiery, damning end to a pathetic humanity which so many movies and books depict, Vonnegut, who even wrote during a time where this outcome could certainly happen, took a different approach, dousing the fear of those reading it by making the end of the book, and the end of the world itself, seem slightly tolerable. Furthermore,  the tone the speaker Jonah uses seems consistently accepting of the doom, and keeping in stride with the book, cynical. For example, Jonah declares that life with the few survivors left on the frozen rock called Earth "had a certain Walt Disney charm" (198). The allusion to the jovial childhood filmmaker gave me a sense that living in a post-apocolyptic wasteland really gets a bad rap and that in Vonnegut's eyes, it can have a "carefree" feeling to it. Thus, the nontraditional depiction of the end times appealed to me in a way that made me want to go hang out with Jonah and his rag-tag gang of misfit survivors, however crazy that may seem. But all in all the ending of the great saga known as Cat's Cradle turned out perfectly. Vonnegut keep the visage of a book centered around mocking the turbulent days of the Cold War and the apocalypse which everyone feared, coloring the then unpredictable and frightening future with a tinge of humor.

There are two things in this world that anger me: parking meters without the "first ten minutes free" button, and Hazel Crosby

Although Kurt Vonnegut's 1963 novel Cat's Cradle boasts a variety of amiable and quirky characters, each with their own distinguishing characteristics, which usually seem to take shape in the form of flaws, one character makes me want to vacate planet earth altogether. She goes by the name Hazel Crosby, the wife of the pompous and pudgy businessman H. Lowe Crosby whom seeks a new force of sweatshop laborers in San Lorenzo. Although the motives of her husband might make him seem like the one to detest, I could not help but cringe at every word of his wife. Hazel embodies every stereotype of a ditsy, obnoxious american imaginable. For example, when ranting about her and the speaker Jonas' status as "Hoosiers" she urges "You call me mom" (65). This comes off in an extremely creepy way due to her oddly commanding tone for something that would otherwise be seemingly cute for an older lady to say. However her overly-friendly mannerism combined with her direct characterization as "heavy" and with a "twangy accent" paints a horrific image of everything I am ashamed of in America (63). More specifically, that image presents itself in the form of an overweight, rosy cheeked middle-aged woman with curlers scattered around her thinning blond hair. However innocent this may seem by itself, when combined with being a total ignoramus Hazel becomes the epitome of an arrogant American as seen in the eyes of the world over. Furthermore, my seething frusturation with Hazel arises when after exiting the plane and seeing the locals she quips, "good thing its a christian island" or else she would "be a little scared" (98). Because being christian automatically fornicates the goodness in people, sarcasm intended, Miss Crosby narrow-mindedness shines through her plump physique once more. Thus, prompting me to feel a tinge of embarrassment for being associated with people such as her, however fictional her character may be. The picture perfect religion spewing, oafish american as seen in Miss Crosby manages to set off every one of my pet peeves in one fell swoop creating a foil to other more likable characters in the novel such as the always cleverly cynical speaker, Jonah. l;

It is so difficult to think of something witty to call this post that im being that guy that says "insert title here", i am not proud of this.

              The structure in which Kurt Vonnegut's 1963 novel, Cat's Cradle presents itself appeals so highly to me that two days after purchasing the book I am nearing the final ten pages. Through a melange of quick, anecdotal-like passages making up the entirety of the story, Vonnegut presents a foundation unlike any other book I have ever slaved through under the powerful fist of Ms. Serensky. For instance, the author's passages vary in size, some half a page like "Baracuda Capital of the World", others two or more pages like "Enemies of Freedom" but they always stay consistently short and that accounts for a cool change of pace from books with chapters that drag on so long they disrupt the space-time continuum (58,162). Likewise, the titles of each, "vignette", if you will, have a sometimes vague or sarcastic connection foreshadowing the content of the following passage. Take the one called "The Happiness of Being an American" for example, the sarcastic tone via the verbally ironic diction of "Happiness" coincides with the following passage depicting the arrogant American "entrepreneur" Mr. Crosby calling the well-off owner of the island hotel a "pissant" (110). The theme of the passage obviously being speakers embarrassment of being associated with Americans such as Mr. Crosby. With each title and vignette comes a new development to the story and since Vonnegut lays each out in chronological order the story flows seamlessly engrossing me to the point where after each passage I would try to barter with myself to just read one more, but I kept outsmarting myself to continue reading. Furthermore, the choppy syntax and witty tone of the voice in the novel: Jonah, compiles itself into a familiar, cynical style of dialogue making for a jocular read. For example when enveloped in what are usually one-sided converstations about matters that seem to interest others but no much Jonah he responds sarcastically "um", "nope", "uh huh" (65, 66). The sarcastic tone brought about by the juxtaposition of his short sarcastic quips to the sometimes paragraph long speeches of the other characters develops a witty form of dialogue allowing for a kind of "inside joke" between myself and Jonah when he finds himself trapped in conversation. Consequently, the humor of this novel spawns in part to the recurrence of remarks like these and his consistently "uninterested" tone of dialogue allowing for a quiet snicker here and there. In short, the style of writing all seems to revolve around the short vignettes combined with the cynically ironic tone of the speaker making for a fresh twist to the usually linear and shallow writing styles of previous chapter books I have encountered.