Lee

A slow-burn surreal psychological comedy I unfortunately did not love or find to be funny. I’ll give it props for its absurdist plot and meta narrative that truly had me guessing left and right up until the out-there ending, but I don’t particularly think James Joyce would have been jealous of this (as the book states). It’s unique, and if you want something genuinely fresh to get the brain cogs turning, give it a whirl. Maybe I'll revisit this again down the road.

Checked this out from the library to see if I wanted to invest more time into the anime. I saw the shockingly short 35ish minute anime film and was very disappointed. So I figured maybe the manga will have more of the desired violence, bloodshed, and creature designs I felt were lacking. Nope, not really. You'll have a better time with the Gantz vampire arc (not that their plots are identical).

I fear this may have not been for me, which is doubly sad as I’m Brasilian. Whether it be the poetic stream of consciousness narrative (I’m rarely a fan of stream of consciousness) or the absolute surreal nature of its existential plight, I found it difficult to grasp and remain engrossed by. Perhaps as Lispector warns and recommends in her intro, I should revisit this when I am older with more life experiences–not that I lack many already. What I can say, is that I never have nor will I ever have this amount of philosophical reflection upon eliminating an intruding insect in my room. Couldn’t be me fam. when it comes to insects, call me the Lisan al-Gaib.

While I did enjoy the pessimistic dark comedic protagonist, I was expecting much more weird girl fiction vibes. Takes a minute to get the ball rolling, but once it does, it unfortunately stops soon thereafter. Books and film need to stop equating small towns vibes to being Twin Peaks adjacent.

Some better paneling and art design, but I’d say I prefer the stories of the first volume more. The mermaid one was nice here (although a little horny), but the Woke Up as a Girl Syndrome one was lowkey sus. I still wouldn’t have guessed this guy to go on to create CSM.

Maybe my fave Bukowski so far. Maybe. His writing style is incredibly honest, extremely crass, and more than likely problematic to many. But there’s just some rugged Hemingway type charm to it that it flows so well, and funny too. This one hits harder if you’re reading it while working at a job you don’t particularly like and under a boss that gets on your nerves. Bukowski has a very rude yet frank way of looking at the world, and you sort of have to respect his sincerity to it. His writing is not for everyone, but I do absolutely think you owe it to yourself to at least try one of his books.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess this guy worked on Gantz and Mob Psycho more than CSM.

“Science has now known sin.”

Living up to its title, this one was a bit of a challenge to really get into. Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five is one of my all-time favorite books, so I figured it was long overdue for me to read another Vonnegut. Cat’s Cradle is supposedly based on Kurt’s day when the atomic bomb was dropped. Is this about the atomic bomb and Oppenheimer? No, it is not. Is it about World War II again? It is not. Cat’s Cradle is a dark comedy and social commentary on the mess of humanity in the face of mutually assured destruction. Largely set on the fictional utopian island of San Lorenzo, where the eccentric inhabitants, under the dictatorship of Papa Monzano, follow the Book of Bokonon. I won’t go into all the details of their religion, but as an example, it's oddly full of Hoosiers, encourages free love, fancies foot jobs(?), and believes in cosmic connections between ordinary people with nothing special in common. Oh, and it's illegal.

Our protagonist—a stand-in for Kurt—investigates and seeks out an Oppenheimer-like individual’s children. There is indeed an atomic-bomb-adjacent scientific invention turned weapon called “Ice-9,” which plays a key role. There’s also a cultish island infiltration, but this book isn’t a sci-fi thriller or action story. I’m telling you this to highlight that the book is a meandering, almost aimless wander through its heavy themes. It’s a satire on how mankind can become both the destroyer of worlds and completely clueless, isolated, and obsessed with the most mundane things. There's a sense of mess around and find out to it all, which you can be connected to mankind in the real world, especially those in power. Being on the brink of total destruction, Jane and John worry more about whether a superstitious hook on the island exists or why Jane was playing footsy with Bill.

When I read Cat’s Cradle, I saw Bokononism and everything happening on the island as the pointless distractions life throws at us. We're like headless chickens running around, clawing at each other while the farmer in the house plans what herbs and spices he’ll use for dinner. Whether it’s the warnings and risks before dropping the atomic bomb—as recently memeified in Chris Nolan’s Oppenheimer—or the jokes and disregard for how AI might greatly alter life for better and worse, Vonnegut captures that blend of innovation and boredom. These days it perpetually feels like the end of the world is nigh, but we don’t really do anything to change course or learn from our history. It's cynical and ends unhappily, but the book never feels grim or serious. Vonnegut has a way of writing about bad things with casual grace and humor.

I'll close with two of the top four definitions of Cat’s Cradle:

- “A children's string game.”

- “Any complicated structure which appears to be without purpose.”

Life can be and often is both.

“Isn't a miserable reality better than the most interesting illusion?

PKD once again crafts an eerily relatable futurescape that feels increasingly familiar the more you read. Marketed as a sci-fi novel, it sounds like a theological tale, but in reality, it’s an intricate cosmic horror. The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch weaves a complex, layered parable against technology and consumerism. It may take a few chapters to really get into this tightly woven story, but I believe it's worth the effort. Humanity’s relentless desire to grow, expand, and conquer knows no limits on our small planet. With space travel and interdimensional rifts that bend reality, that's just one more step. The theme of escapism stood out most to me while reading, as the characters kept seeking even greater highs to find freedom and peace in their situations. Whether it’s the forced migration to farm on Mars or the longing to discover something bigger in the cosmos, each character shows an itch to take the future drugs PKD creates to imagine new selves and sometimes literally enter alternate realities. The parallels with our own world—the rise of AI, VR, social media, and DMs—blend as our real world crumbles around us. Why suffer in daily life when we can just take some CAN-D or CHEW-Z and transport our minds to an ideal dream vacation? Don’t mistake me for supporting this idea, but the appeal is easy to see (especially in times like these). PKD also explored themes beyond digital escapism and space colonization, including environmental issues, overpopulation, class systems, and questions of belief and godhood. For example, Earth’s overpopulation and global warming almost eliminate the possibility of going outside during the day. New technologies are created just to keep us cool enough to do what's necessary, while drafts are initiated to send the poor to Mars for demanding physical labor. Written three years before Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, this hints that PKD may have had thoughts about androids or replicants being the labor force responsible for working off Earth. Regarding belief and god, PKD (a Christian, I believe) presents a reality where maybe God is dead or, worse, replaced. That's the central mystery in The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, and I enjoyed slowly uncovering and deciphering it. Feels like a good companion piece to the rich hijinks that those of Ballard’s Super-Cannes would get up to.