This book is not supposed to make you feel good. It's supposed to leave you sad and wondering, crying maybe over the tragedies that can take place in just one man's life who happens to be part of a world war among other things you wouldn't wish on anybody. Instead it provokes a smirk here or there. A smirk that rises a feeling of guilt deep down in your guts. And it doesn't make you cry either, doubling that feeling of guilt. Vonnegut uses a very special way of describing things and the style used in his writing supports the main character, who seems to be such a simple man and yet he is not. He is full of mystery, just as the actions are, that are described in this book. Slaughterhouse-Five is not a pleasant read and it's not designed to be, but it is a very good read, that I would recommend to anybody, willing to read a different kind of anti-war book.

I don't know what say. Can I say that I enjoyed it? It feels wrong to say that I enjoyed a book about the Dresden bombing, but if you can say it about any war book you can say it about this one I guess. I'm really happy I didn't know what this book is about before I started reading. I would have never picked it up. I don't have the stomach for memoirs about violence and usually have to force myself to keep reading. This book I simply breathed in.