Title: Palm Sunday
Author: Kurt Vonnegut
Page Count/Review Word Count: 306
This book is a bit of a weird one, because despite the fact that I’m a Vonnegut fan, I wasn’t impressed. In fact, I had to switch it out and read it as a bedtime book instead of as a main read, because I found it difficult to get too invested in it.
Part of that is probably because of the very nature of the book. As the blurb explains, it “weaves together speeches, letters, fiction, articles and autobiography”. To be honest, it’s a bit of a mess and reminds me of what you get after an author dies and an editor sorts through their archives to try to patch together one last book to make a few extra quid.
Because of that, I felt a little bit cheated as a reader, and that’s also the reason why this is easily the weakest of all of the Vonnegut books that I’ve read. In fact, I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re hoping to read everything that Vonnegut ever wrote or you want to learn a little bit more about his life. Even then, though, it felt like I was learning more about his extended family than I was about the man himself, and that’s a shame.
Overall then, I feel like this was just a bit of a wasted opportunity, a book that could have been good but which just wasn’t. With all of the other great stuff that Vonnegut has out there, I just don’t know why you’d want to pick this on up instead of some of the others. I mean, for goodness’ sake, I still haven’t read Slaughterhouse Five. And this was just such a big miss that I wonder what I’m actually doing.