At his best, he suggests the late Kurt Vonnegut at his worst, and Palahniuk makes Vonnegut seem like Nabokov.
I've reviewed Bellow and Vonnegut, but I basically have tried to avoid it.
Savor every time you find yourself, in the words of Vonnegut, “trapped in the amber of the moment.”
In his new memoir, 35 years and several crack-ups later, Vonnegut is more reflective.
Vonnegut could be charming, but he was seldom kind; he frequently repaid loyalty with abandonment and betrayal.
Vonnegut straddled both realms, so there are always exceptions.
Up to that point, Vonnegut had been guiding his biographer along the lines of his own narrative about his life.
Editor and publisher Seymour Lawrence turned things around for Vonnegut with a three-book, $75,000 contract in 1966.