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Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. And so it goes. In his introduction to his collection of short stories, Welcome To The Monkey House, Kurt Vonnegut talks about a very funny letter from his brother, whose wife had just had a baby, and the last words of his sister who died of cancer. He gives them credit for inspiring him, saying, “I realized that the two themes to my work had been given to me by my siblings: ‘Here I am, cleaning shit off of practically everything,” and ‘No pain.’” When I was in high school I picked up Slaughterhouse Five, thinking it would be an easy read for English class. I’d heard it was science fiction, and, hey, at that point I’d read a ton of science fiction. But it was unlike any science fiction, or any book, I’d ever read. Here was a book that was funny and crude and dark and just plain weird. So naturally after reading it twice I moved on to Galapagos, then Cat’s Cradle, then God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, then Deadeye Dick, led around Kurt Vonnegut’s oeuvre by one of my best friends at the time and a couple of hip adults, one of whom noticed me reading Sirens Of Titan in church. Vonnegut’s ideas on religion had a more profound influence on me than Presbyterianism. As I was taking a class on Twentieth Century art I read Bluebeard, and his take on modern art tickled me. Shortly after the first Gulf War I picked up Hocus Pocus, a dark novel composed of notes by a Vietnam veteran locked in a library and dying of tuberculosis. Every time I get a cold I can’t help remembering, “Cough, cough,” and wondering whether the disease isn’t really from Tralfamadore. I’ve never read any actual news reports, but I’ve heard that at various times and in various places Vonnegut’s books have been burned, which is an ironic way to treat the works of a World War II veteran. I once met a guy who claimed to have met Vonnegut in a bar and asked him what he thought of his books being burned. Vonnegut’s supposed reply was, “It shows how civilized we’ve become. Four hundred years ago they would have been burning me.” Although Slaughterhouse-five, Or, The Children’s Crusade is his most famous novel, the one that sticks in my mind is Breakfast Of Champions, the novel Vonnegut wrote as a fiftieth birthday present to himself. Mostly funny, and including simple drawings done by Vonnegut himself, the book turns extremely sad at the end. In true Vonnegut style he leads us blindfolded down a strange, winding trail, telling jokes along the way, then pushes us off a cliff. He enters the book and meets his alter ego, pulp-fiction writer Kilgore Trout. Trout appeared in several earlier novels, and Vonnegut intended Breakfast of Champions to be his last appearance. He proves he is Trout’s maker, then sets him free. As he departs he hears Trout’s last words: “Make me young, make me young, make me young…” In 1982 the Bower-Suhrheinrich Library was opened on the campus of the University of Evansville, where I went to college. Kurt Vonnegut gave the opening address. Although I wasn’t a student there at the time stories about him were passed down, and I was told that, before the ceremonies, a group of students happened to see Mr. Vonnegut sitting on the ground in front of the library reading a book. They started to walk over and talk to him when he looked up and glared. “You kids leave me alone!” he barked. “Can’t you see I’m reading?” I don’t know whether that story is true, but God bless you, Mr. Vonnegut. You’re no longer in pain. And we’re stuck down here cleaning shit off of practically everything. Comments8 Comments so far |
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I read Slaughterhouse Five in high school as well and later read Cats Cradle (which ended up being my favorite of his). But Slaughterhouse Five sticks in mind because of it’s graphic recreation (de-creation) of a bomber being shot up and how it was viewed as entertainment in the future. I also loved the symbolism of a young CAW reading Sirens of Titan in church. It reminds me of the time our school had a visit the Duke of Gloucester and a friend of mine sitting in a spot where the Duke could see him reading “Marxism Today”.
“God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut”. I can understand his atheistic views knowing the experience he had and the demons that tormented him throughout his life. But I loved this title for your blog. Hopefully he has found peace somewhere.
Vonnegut was not an atheist, but a freethinking humanist. There is a difference. He said music was the only proof he needed for the existence of God (and even said he would like that to be his epitaph) but he considered being a decent person more important than having a specific religious creed.
By the way, my copy of “Sirens of Titan” is the one with the really lurid cover of three barely-clothed sirens. It just makes the symbolism a little more interesting. And I don’t know how my parents let me get away with it.
From a sermon delivered by Wesley V. Hromatko, D.Min. on 11/13/05: (sources listed on http://www.siouxcityuu.org/vonnegut.htm)
Vonnegut claims to be a “Christ worshipping agnostic.”[69] Vonnegut’s only true children’s book tells the story of how Jesus was born as a human baby.[70] For his born again daughter he started to write a passion play without God. The last of Jesus’ followers gathered near the cross. He was suffering high above them. All they could do was to try to talk to him, to sing to him. Finally, they went down on their knees exhausted. One Roman says to them “The way you are worshipping him, you would think he was the son of Your God.” One of them maybe Mary Magdalene replies, “Oh no, sir. If he were the Son of our God, he would not need us. It is because he is a common human being exactly like us that we are here—doing as common people must, what little we can.”[71]
I humbly stand corrected. Also thank you Angel for the piece he wrote.
Great piece, thanks for your insight….
[…] Craddock said, “After Mr. Vonnegut’s passing, I was considering re-reading some of his works but hadn’t decided which one. Then, the host […]
I am CAW’s mother and you got away with it because I had read some Vonnegut, s very profound writer far ahead of his time. And don’t you remember the two framed charcoal nudes hanging on the staircase going up to your room? We believed you should expand your mind with literature….maybe this was some of your education? I would never burn a book.