Another Kurt Vonnegut book I’ll never be able to read for the first time. Bluebeard is about art and emptiness. The main character used to be an Abstract Expressionist painter and art collector and he’s telling the story of his life. He’s Armenian-American and was a camouflage expert in World War 2 (which reminded me of the WW2 Hipster Battalion comics by Kate Beaton about halfway down that page). All his paintings were single colour canvases made with faulty paint so they all dissolved. There’s some question throughout the whole book as to whether he’s any good as an artist or not. And whether he’s completely empty inside.
So yes, a good Kurt Vonnegut book. I don’t know if I know of another kind.