...technique," from Greek tekhnikos, "pertaining to art," from tekhnē "art, skill," requires a sensual relation to the object in the process of crafting a work of art. (204) In a later interview, published in 1996, to a question relative to the fact that despite his dissatisfaction with its final form, the novel proved to be his most successful book, Vonnegut rather humorously replied: "Well, at times you can get away with it or you can't. The question at the heart of my critical inquiry is: "How is it possible to make sense of it all?" Crafty writing, indeed, requires crafty reading, in turn, so as to avoid "misreading" or easy, hasty technical skills in hermeneutics. Yet, as one of the first admirers of Slaughterhouse-Five, James Lundquist claims that the major difficulty in approaching the novel has to do with aesthetics, that is, it lies in Vonnegut's art "to conceptualize and define the night terrors of an era so unreal, so unbelievable, that the very term fiction seems no longer to have any currency" (1).4 Hence, the difficult question for Vonnegut, which I will try to develop later on, has to do with mimesis, that is, the writer's (im-)possible craft of representing the disastrous experience of World War II in which he is a protagonist and a witness who happens to be traumatically marked by its aftershocks.