loppear reviewed Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut
perfection
5 stars
Absolute riotous satire at the expense of the irrationality of men, art, war, and violence.
336 pages
English language
Published Sept. 8, 1998 by Dial Press Trade Paperback.
Absolute riotous satire at the expense of the irrationality of men, art, war, and violence.
Vonnegut at his best. Could not put this one down. Will need to read it again.
No one can bake so much wry wisdom into a shaggy dog story like Vonnegut!
Bluebeard isn't Sci-Fi, perhaps that's why it's stands the test of time better than other Kurt Vonnegut books I've read.
It is the best Vonnegut I've read since [b:Slaughterhouse-Five|4981|Slaughterhouse-Five|Kurt Vonnegut|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1337996187s/4981.jpg|1683562].
It was interesting reading about the life of Armenian holocaust survivors. Replace Armenian with Jew and you won't be able to tell the difference.
Bluebeard even has interesting things to say about art, as well as interesting things to say about people.
The fictional autobiography of Rabo Karabekian, the son of survivors of the Armenian Genocide, one-eyed veteran of World War II, and spectacularly talented (but failed) modern artist.
As an Armenian-American, I can't be objective about this book. Vonnegut got too much of the Armenian-American experience right, so this book speaks to me in a way that non-Armenians probably wouldn't understand. Although I suspect that fans of modern art might feel the same way.
That's not to say that Vonnegut wallows in ethnicity. Not at all! But I'm sure that I got a little more out of the book than non-Armenians would.
It's a good example of Vonnegut at the height of his abilities. Written in 1988, it lacks the science-fiction aspects of some of his better-known works - and frankly, I think that's a good thing. Without fantastic elements, the book nonetheless manages to be wry, funny, insightful, and …
The fictional autobiography of Rabo Karabekian, the son of survivors of the Armenian Genocide, one-eyed veteran of World War II, and spectacularly talented (but failed) modern artist.
As an Armenian-American, I can't be objective about this book. Vonnegut got too much of the Armenian-American experience right, so this book speaks to me in a way that non-Armenians probably wouldn't understand. Although I suspect that fans of modern art might feel the same way.
That's not to say that Vonnegut wallows in ethnicity. Not at all! But I'm sure that I got a little more out of the book than non-Armenians would.
It's a good example of Vonnegut at the height of his abilities. Written in 1988, it lacks the science-fiction aspects of some of his better-known works - and frankly, I think that's a good thing. Without fantastic elements, the book nonetheless manages to be wry, funny, insightful, and ultimately very touching. As with many of my favorite books, the ending never fails to leave me deeply moved.