I'm a Vonnegut virgin - I'll start with that. I've never read his work before so if you're expecting a detailed review stacking up 'Breakfast of Champions' to his other works, you'll have to look elsewhere.
Incidentally, Breakfast of Champions (BoC from here on) is also an awesome title that is a compelling argument in itself to read this book. Plus, it is layered with copious amounts of subtext which you will notice only after reading the book.
Now, moving on and sticking to the virgin metaphor, I've heard Vonnegut quoted so often that if I didn't know any better, I'd have to assume that he was some kind of writing demi-god capable of impregnating people's minds by the mere flick of his pen. For all I knew, he was sex itself.
But like most first time experiences under the covers, Vonnegut's BoC is a whelming experience. Not over-whelming, nor under. Just whelming. It's a good book that will satisfy you but one that will never really enjoy. It's a teaser of all the fun that can be had with the writer but not really a very memorable experience in itself.
The book is a satire on American cultures and values, and in a broader sense, on human nature itself. It has some excellent metaphors and the dilemma of one of the two lead characters, Dwayne Hoover, wherein he believes everyone but himself to be an unfeeling robot set on Earth just for his purposes raises some deep philosophical questions that beg to be answered.
There are also stories within the story in the form of books written by Kilgore Trout, the other lead character, who is a poor science fiction writer. It is one of his works that sets the aforementioned Dwayne off into his delusion about unfeeling robots. These numerous 'books' spread across the course of the story act as mini parables which draw interesting parallels with the different plagues of our day and age. For example, there's a story of a planet the inhabitants of which are automobiles who live off oil and eventually make their world inhabitable. I don't need to explain what this is supposed to signify and there are many more such books in there that talk about everything from wasting food to the ostracization of intelligence.
And this is where BoC's problems begin. As it is Vonnegut utilizes a very abstract form of story telling which is a mixture of text riddled with crude hand made drawings. Add to that the two dozen or so ideas he tries to propagate at once, and the whole thing starts feeling less like a book and more like a long, winded sermon. I don't know about you, but I prefer my books to more subtle with their ideas (or at least have strong forward momentum with their stories) rather than trying to hammer them in.
But that's not to say that the ideas he pushes aren't worthwhile. If anything, they have made me mull over them plenty during the course of my reading. There are some deep and disturbing thoughts he brings to the surface that we all must acknowledge. And there are some genuinly witty laughs to be had while pondering over them. The characters are sharp and well thought out, and there is a deliberate chess-like pace to the story as all the pieces move to their predestined conclusion. It's just a shame that in the end, the otherwise interesting premise comes off as secondary to the ideas expressed in the story rather than the other way around.
At the end of the day it's all a matter of taste I suppose. BoC is more akin to Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' in its abstract story centred around strong philosophical messages, and less like Neil Gaiman's 'American Gods' which is also a take on American culture and vices, albeit with more emphasis on the story.
BoC is not a book for everyone (and probably not even me) but it is an intelligent one. I'll give it that. Vonnegut is a master of the inner workings of human behaviour, and while I may not have really enjoyed the story that much, you know a book is always worthy of being read if it makes you ponder over it for days after.
— Sidharth Sreekumar
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