I never read those, but I had friends (back in the day) that loved them. I'm a nerd and was always around hippies, so I just never got the idea from what they said that I would like them. I remember looking at the first few pages of the first book and thinking it might be funny (I liked Monty Python back then) but just never thought it would be my cup of tea. But after your review, I may try to at least read the first one!
These books are amazing. The meeting with God, the living mattresses that are hunted, but where some customers have complained that their mattress turned out not to be completely dead, Marvin they forget on a planet for a few million years and who had been bored to death, the whale that materializes in the wake of the improbability drive above a planet, and where you follow its thoughts as it falls towards the planet, where it thinks the planet will be its new friend, etc. But the best thing is that you have to imagine the author, every night lying on his little hill, well drunk, and look up at all the stars and think funny thoughts
These books (together with the Discworld books by Terry Pratchett) don’t need a plot. They work perfectly fine for me as they are, and in my opinion, the absurdity is the plot. Much in the same way like a Monty Python sketch. Totally bonkers, without a real structure or punchline. Perhaps you should have a towel nearby when you read the other books, that usually helps …😂
@@jonathankoan A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
I never read those, but I had friends (back in the day) that loved them. I'm a nerd and was always around hippies, so I just never got the idea from what they said that I would like them. I remember looking at the first few pages of the first book and thinking it might be funny (I liked Monty Python back then) but just never thought it would be my cup of tea. But after your review, I may try to at least read the first one!
These books are amazing. The meeting with God, the living mattresses that are hunted, but where some customers have complained that their mattress turned out not to be completely dead, Marvin they forget on a planet for a few million years and who had been bored to death, the whale that materializes in the wake of the improbability drive above a planet, and where you follow its thoughts as it falls towards the planet, where it thinks the planet will be its new friend, etc. But the best thing is that you have to imagine the author, every night lying on his little hill, well drunk, and look up at all the stars and think funny thoughts
🐦🔥😇⚖️
These books (together with the Discworld books by Terry Pratchett) don’t need a plot. They work perfectly fine for me as they are, and in my opinion, the absurdity is the plot. Much in the same way like a Monty Python sketch. Totally bonkers, without a real structure or punchline. Perhaps you should have a towel nearby when you read the other books, that usually helps …😂
A towel? 👀😳
@@jonathankoan A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.