While mortals sleep is a collection of short stories by Kurt Vonnegut, published by Vintage Originals. I bought it in a bookstore aside one of the entrances to Hampstead Heath a couple of weeks ago.
I don't think Vonnegut is any great short-story writer in the trail of the great short-story American writers, such as O. Henry, Flannery O'Connor, Raymond Carver or Jack London. However, his writing is inviting and in his straight, linear stories one senses this musty smell of what can go wrong with adults, sometimes as if imposed by an overwhelming power above, part of which, I must say, is nonetheless familiar to me. I find the book a pleasant reading and an open invitation to sit around and bitch about -an experience-sharer.
Here and there there is interesting stuff, like this definition of a "dreamer" that Bob, the 21-year old, just-married, MIT engineer gives to his wife: someone who "never sees things the way they really are". The musty smell becomes pungent before this super-familiar-to-me, meta-cognitive sentence. Everything points to chaos and to an eternal cliff for Bob and Nancy. They've been married for a few hours, but she is already crying: "you sound so mad". One, two, three, four words... Four words that mean so much.
Particularly, the Hundred-Dollar Kisses story contains a sentence in current order. Henry is being judged for having hit his co-worker Verne with a telephone. Why he did it? Because Verne represents everything that is wrong with the world. What is wrong with the world? "Everybody pays attention to pictures of things. Nobody pays attention to things themselves"... .
Anybody has any doubt?
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
I don't think Vonnegut is any great short-story writer in the trail of the great short-story American writers, such as O. Henry, Flannery O'Connor, Raymond Carver or Jack London. However, his writing is inviting and in his straight, linear stories one senses this musty smell of what can go wrong with adults, sometimes as if imposed by an overwhelming power above, part of which, I must say, is nonetheless familiar to me. I find the book a pleasant reading and an open invitation to sit around and bitch about -an experience-sharer.
Here and there there is interesting stuff, like this definition of a "dreamer" that Bob, the 21-year old, just-married, MIT engineer gives to his wife: someone who "never sees things the way they really are". The musty smell becomes pungent before this super-familiar-to-me, meta-cognitive sentence. Everything points to chaos and to an eternal cliff for Bob and Nancy. They've been married for a few hours, but she is already crying: "you sound so mad". One, two, three, four words... Four words that mean so much.
Particularly, the Hundred-Dollar Kisses story contains a sentence in current order. Henry is being judged for having hit his co-worker Verne with a telephone. Why he did it? Because Verne represents everything that is wrong with the world. What is wrong with the world? "Everybody pays attention to pictures of things. Nobody pays attention to things themselves"... .
Anybody has any doubt?
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
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