I save Kurt Vonnegut books. There aren’t that many I haven’t read yet, but he’s dead and barring the usual fleecing of the corpse there won’t be more coming. And I love them so much I want to have a KV I haven’t read waiting in the bookstore for some day when I need that bit of levity at how incredibly fucked up the world is and how the whole point is to be kind. Last week I depleted my unread stock by picking up Jailbird. I loved it.
I love how the little things slip in and grow in importance. At first you think RAMJAC is just some company being used for verisimilitude, then it gets more noticeable and you realize it’s made up, and then by the end it’s the point of the whole damned book. I love how he does that stuff. Did that stuff. And the story is told by a defeated person, which I appreciate. It’s literature so it doesn’t have to be told by the victor, and is better if it isn’t.