| Quote #7
Newt remained curled in the chair. He held out his painty hands as though a cat's cradle were strung between them. "No wonder kids grow up crazy. A cat's cradle is nothing but a bunch of X's between somebody's hands, and little kids look and look and look at all those X's…." (74.28)
Newt points out how art works, and we can extend it to discuss any art. It's not a woman smiling; it's just a bunch of paint on canvas. It's not a story about Armageddon; it's just words on a page. Hmm, art really is kind of crazy, but at least it's a good crazy.
| Quote #8
"I don't think [Newt's painting is] very nice," Angela complained. "I think it's ugly, but I don't know anything about modern art. Sometimes I wish Newt would take some lessons, so he could know for sure if he was doing something or not." (76.8)
Swing aaaaaand miss. Angela completely misses the point of Newt's art—which is, you can create your own point to his art.
| Quote #9
"[The San Lorenzans] were all employed full time as actors in a play they understood, that any human being anywhere could understand and applaud." (79.2)
Vonnegut must have really liked the "Life imitates Art" idea, because here it is again. This time, though, it goes one step farther. Here, life imitates art to the point that it becomes art. In this case a play.