Let’s face it. Most of us know by now that our country, no, make that every country in the world is run by men of science. These men of science seem to have the most fun by creating all sorts of new ways of global destruction that not even Roland Emmerich could fathom, just ‘cuz they can. Now, we modern day folks put a great deal of faith in these men of science. We trust them to know what’s best for us, and to only use their death rays on bad dudes and terrorists. Just like how we trust God to send bad guys and terrorists to hell!
Kurt Vonnegut‘s 1963 novel Cat’s Cradle is a tale that follows an everyman named John, who finds himself becoming a destined participant in a series of events regarding the faith we put in science and religion. While researching the day the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, John discovers the legacy of Dr. Hoenikker, the (fictional) co-creator of the atomic bond and a substance called ice-nine. Further investigation into ice-nine leads John to the Island of San Lorenzo, where the substance is in the possession of Hoenikker’s children. John learns more about the the peculiar island culture through a guide given to him by the newly appointed US ambassador. This guide glides over the local landmarks and institutions and devotes most of its information to the island’s peculiar history. This history revolves mostly around the tension between an aging and bloodthirsty dictator with a hook of death and the eccentric prophet of the religion of Bokonon with his books and kinky foot fetish ritual.
Cat’s Cradle is a testament to Vonnegut’s strong convictions towards humanism, free thought and skepticism of conventional religious beliefs. This is black comedy at its finest. If you still need a reason to pick this classic up, let it be to honor the legacy of Vonnegut’s brilliant and prolific career.
This one’s for you, Kurt.
Dear Readers, as the depth of winter approaches, I’m sure you’re either dreading the onset of maddening cabin fever or a vitamin D deficiency or weeks of freezing morning bathroom floors. My favorite remedy for the icy blues is reading, and now that Pure Pop has begun to stock books I’ll be prescribing a couple to you over the next week. Best taken with a cup of St. John’s Wort tea as you you sit under your S.A.D. “happy lamp”.
Your first dose is Tom Robbins‘ offbeat classic Still Life With Woodpecker. You know how at the end of Reading Rainbow they had those kids giving book reviews and they always started them off with the classic rhetorical question intro? I’ve always wanted to do that, so here goes.
Do you like exiled, tree-hugging princesses? How about outlaws with loads of dynamite and a penchant for domestic terrorism?
What about sex without a condom? If you do, you’ll love this book. Still Life is the quixotic adventure of Princess Leigh-Cheri, red-headed princess of an family of royals exiled by democratic revolt in their home country. After an unfortunate knock-up and miscarriage, Leigh Cheri embarks on a quest for the ultimate form of natural birth control. When she collides with career outlaw Bernard Mickey Wrangle aka “The Woodpecker” she learns how to communicate through a pack of Camel’s, and the purpose of the moon.
Robbins’ work is outsider brilliance in the same renegade realm as the words of Hunter S. Thompson and Kurt Vonnegut. The man crafts a story that brings you to the brink of what would commonly be considered mental illness and then convinces you that the experience is completely normal. He is prolific and philosophical, and considers humanity’s moments of being “playful, rebellious and immature” as it’s best. Still Life is an unmasterpiece that illustrates the beautiful absurdity of the world we live in.
Come pick it up at the store, and while you’re at it, special order your next read for 20% off the regular price. (aweshum)
