Most Helpful Customer Reviews
|
|
54 of 60 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Kurt Vonnegut did not write this book. (article explains), April 12, 1999
By A Customer
The following is excerpted from Edger Chapman, The Magic Labyrinth of Philip Jose Farmer, (San Bernardino: Borgo Press, 1984) 64-65. Farmer's most important parody and fictional author story is Venus On The Half-Shell (1975), published by Dell books under the byline "Kilgore Trout." Trout is Vonnegut's itinerant, impoverished science fiction author, a prophet despised and without honor in his own country. A strong admirer of Vonnegut, Farmer has also confessed to a deep identification with Trout (who was actually suggested by Theodore Sturgeon). The identification was strengthened by many things: Farmer's own years as a struggling science fiction author in the early and middle stages of his career; Farmer's experience as a misunderstood social critic; and Farmer's identification with pornography as an Essex House author, a fate that plagued Trout. Finally, not long after Farmer had returned to Peoria, he was accused in 1970 of having written a letter signed "Trout" in the Peoria Journal Star criticizing President Nixon's Vietnam policy-another ironic identification of Farmer and Trout. (The letter is believed to have actually been penned by a college student.) At any rate, Farmer, when afflicted with a temporary writer's block, conceived the idea of writing one of Trout's nonexistent novels and publishing it under Trout's name. He obtained Vonnegut's permission and went to work. When Venus on the Half-Shell was published by Dell, with Farmer wearing a false beard and a Confederate hat as a disguise on the back cover, the book was a ninety-day wonder, until Farmer's authorship, which Farmer made little effort to conceal, became known. Although the novel brought Farmer some unaccustomed notoriety (and made Vonnegut regret giving his permission to the project), the revelation of Farmer's authorship created a tendency to dismiss the work as simply an amusing parody and literary hoax. An additional irony in this episode has been Vonnegut's claim in a recent interview with Charles Platt (recorded in a book published in 1980) that Farmer failed to avow his authorship of Venus for a long period, presumably in the hope that sales would be increased by association with Vonnegut's reputation. This allegation, however, is not borne out by fact: Farmer told numerous friends, colleagues, and fans of his authorship; in fact, he informed the present writer of it when Venus was appearing as a serial in Fantasy and Science Fiction. Vonnegut's reaction is perhaps not surprising, since Trout is his invention. But when Vonnegut professes to feel anxiety that Farmer's book may somehow have harmed his literary reputation, it is hard to take him seriously. Such concern might have been better devoted to the effect of Vonnegut's self-indulgent seventies novels, Breakfast of Champions and Slapstick. Divorced from topicality and controversy, Venus On The Half-Shell can be read as a lively satirical anatomy, an absurdist novel that manages to parody Vonnegut while ridiculing human pretentiousness and our persistent search for metaphysical answers in an irrational universe. . . As a satire, Venus On The Half-Shell has many excellent moments, but it contrasts sharply with Vonnegut's work. Whereas Vonnegut is Juvenalian or Swiftian in his tone, his work suggesting genuine misanthropy, Farmer is a genial Horatian satirist here. There seems to be more readiness to accept the limitations of human life in Farmer, more hopefulness about the human capacity to enjoy life, even if dreams and ideals are for the most part doomed to not to be realized completely.
|
|
|
27 of 31 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
The only book I buy every time I find it, April 26, 1999
Venus on the Half Shell IS my favorite book, with Jung's autobiography and T.S. Eliot's Complete Works running close second and third. I have read it more times than I can count. It cheers me up when I am blue...it answers questions when I am confused (at least it slaps me a good one while shouting, "TAKE YOURSELF A LITTLE MORE SERIOUSLY, WHY DON'T YOU!") It makes me laugh. It laughs at me. There is simply no other book in the same category as Venus. Originally I found it on the "book shelf" at the Kroger in Petoskey, Michigan just after its publication in '70-something. Where else would one find a Kilgore Trout novel? I knew immediatley that I had happened upon a black pearl of literature! I couldn't wait to get home to start reading it and actually went next door to the Big Boy and had some warm salad a cold hamburger while I entered into the universe of Simon Wagstaff. The only problem with the edition available here is that it is a new hardback. This is anitpodal to the concept itself. This book MUST be read in paperback, which is available with a little perseverence at your nearest used book shop. Kilgore Trout was NEVER published in hardback, and neither did he ever win a second edition! In order to properly appreciate this book, you really need to know Kilgore Trout as a character. Then read this book. Then read Philip Jose Farmer. If you have put the cart before the horse and already have encountered Philip Jose, it won't ruin the experience...he also wrote some pretty far out Tarzan stories..... Read and enjoy! And, Mr. Farmer, if you check this particular message board, THANK YOU!!!! It is gratifying to know that you are out there!
|
|
|
13 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Possibly the greatest SCI-Fi book of all times, sort of., January 31, 2005
Gawd, I loved this book. In my younger days, I probably read it more times than a preacher reads the Bible. (Used paperbacks only!) The author uses the pen name Kilgore Trout, which is a character from several Kurt Vonnegut novels. (Philip Jose Farmer did it as a send up of Vonnegut, so he used the Kilgor Trout name.) It is very much like Vonnegut describes books by Kilgore Trout -- science fiction materpieces which combine great humor and great wisdom which are truly multi-level masterpieces of sarcasm directed at the human condition and our greatest institutions. It is also very silly. (See Douglas Adams "Hitchikers' Guide to the Galaxy for similar deranged sci-fi humor!)
The basic story is of the life and travels of our hero, Simon Wagstaff, the Space Wanderer. He is the last surviving human being, after the Earth gets destroyed in a second Great Flood, which was caused by an alien race which goes around the universe cleaning planets. Their schedule had them clean planets every 10,000 years, but they made a mistake and came back after only 4,000. At the time of the flood, the Space Wanderer is on top of the reconstituted Sphynx in Egypt. (When they rebuilt the Sphynx, they used the face of someone famous because they did not know what the original looked like.) Simon Wagstaff escapes in a Chinese Space Junk, which just happens to float by. Unfortunately, the controls are in Chinese, which makes it difficult to fly. It should be noted that the ship is shaped like a giant flying dildo, consisting of a long cylindrical body with two bulbous engine pods at the back. It flys on 69X drive, which taps into the energy of living suns in another universe, and makes a screaming sound as it gets close to its peak speed of 69 times the speed of light!
On one of the first planets he stops on, he drinks an elixer which gives him virtual immortality. He takes on board an almost human android. She was programmed to be the perfect woman: intelligent; loves sex in all forms; beautiful; sensitive; giving; etc. (I wonder if she was a good cook!?!) After about a thousand years, they get tired of each other and go separate ways. (Even the most perfect relationship with the most beautiful woman gets tiring after a while!) He hops from inhabited planet to inhabited planet asking the ultimate question, "Why did God create man just to suffer and die?" This question makes him somewhat unpopular.
Some of the planets he visits are as follows:
-- He goes to a planet inhabited by critters which look like car tires. The leader of a pack grows white-walls.
-- He goes to a planet where the laws are so strictly followed that everyone eventually ends up in jail on life sentences.
-- He travels to a planet where he treks across a desert which is almost impossible to cross to meet a wise sage, who is so wise that no one ever returns, presumably in order to soak up his wisdom. Instead, the sage turns out to be cannibal, who murders and eats all of the supplicants.
Eventually, he ends up on the last planet -- inhabited by the oldest, wisest, and smartest creature in the universe, a billion year old giant cochroach, who personally knew the Creater of the Universe. (The old codger cochroach does appear to be a bit senile, and his memory isn't that good as to things which happened a billion or so years ago!) There, we find the answers to everything. For example, all intelligent life in the universe sprang from bacteria living in Giant Cochroach poop. As to the answer to the ultimate question in the universe, you'll just have to read the book. Or, perhaps you can just skip to the last page for the answer.
As some of the other reviewers note, nothing by KT should be bound. Unfortunately, Trout did not have much in the way of an agent, so his works were published only as paperbacks or as filler in XXX girlie magazines. The magazine changed the names of the stories, giving them sexually suggestive titles which have nothing to do with the story! "God bless you, Mr. Rosewater" for discovering KT's works.
For all the book's silliness, in the end, you come away with this great existential revealation that nothing in the universe really makes sense, and that all of our societal attempts to make a sane, organized, safe and comprehensible world are nothing more than caked on, poorly applied makeup on the pimple and pock marked face of human existence. Or not.
In summary: fast paced, highly readable fun.
|
|
|
Most Recent Customer Reviews
|
by Conrad Phillip Kottak
by Kurt Vonnegut
by Kurt Vonnegut
by Kurt Vonnegut
by Kurt Vonnegut
