An American Classic or whores don’t deserve to be named

50th whatever Edition.

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller.

Why do I do this to myself? I just kept asking myself that question during all the book, but, yeah, why, indeed? Can’t help it, finishing books is one of those obsessive urges I have. It was in page 60 when I thought: no way! Is this for real? I am going to drop this… (hum… you wish). In short, I hated every second of it, and now I ask myself why the high regard for this book? Deep, deep puzzle.

My edition has some extras and an updated foreword that show more context and in theory, I understand some of its merits, the questioning of institutions and war, but in reality, I don’t get it at all, maybe it is an American thing from those times, the disappointment from a place of privilege, I don’t know. For me it was like a (very) dumb Pynchon, like a small child fascinated with his own joke, rephrasing it ad nauseam and you get Catch-22.

I felt a very strong passive aggressiveness towards women, 98% whores and they are referred as John Doe’s whore or the whore’s sister... why bother naming them, you know. They are dumb lustful beings, maybe that was another joke I didn’t get.

Such wisdom.

It is repetitive, tiring, the humor is dull and the characters are pure cardboard thin. The structure that was deemed brilliant is just sloppy. If you want some old school mindfuck, go read Cortázar, Borges or Pynchon.