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April 12, 2007 by Andrew
Kurt Vonnegut has come unstuck in time.
The author of – what? – literary science fiction? relationship stories? satire? social criticism? – died April 11 at the age of 84. His best known work, Slaughterhouse-5: or The Children’s Crusade assaulted the stupidity of war while recognizing that war is a human constant; it also played with narrative convention by pulling protagonist Billy Pilgrim from his war experiences to his life as a successful optometrist, to his capture by the alien Tralfamadorians who show him that time is a flexible and twisted dimension. All of his works are filled with authorial comments that create a fatalistic atmosphere, even as his ridiculous plotting and foolish characters combine in comic situations – practically the definition of black humor. Hi-ho.
I’m torn between a couple of titles that I might call my personal favorite - Deadeye Dick, the story of a boy who shoots a pregnant neighbor with his Hitler-worshipping father’s gun, starting a roller-coaster ride of failure and success, or Galapagos, which plays Darwin out over the long term as the last remnants of humanity survive on the remote islands and evolve according to the needs of survival. Strong stuff.
Vonnegut’s major theme seems to be that the passage of time absolves all sins and crimes, even when the protagonists are personally haunted by what they’ve done. His own father said that he never wrote a story with a villain, probably because Vonnegut recognized the essential failing of humanity – that we want more than we can have, and are willing to fight and sacrifice for insubstantial trappings. So it goes.
Poo-tee-weet?
Oh no…
Vonnegut was my very favorite living author. I loved his voice, his humor, his passion, his causes, his charisma. His novels, his nonfiction, his short stories– all of it was brilliant.
Vonnegut was, to me, was one of the most important voices in the whole history of American social thought. Of the many different thinkers who have tried to understand the world around them, Vonnegut is one of the elite few in my personal pantheon of people who really get it, up there with Mark Twain and Ben Franklin. I admired his compassion and intellect, and his gift for putting it all into words that moved me. He managed to package humanity and philosophy into a ripping good pleasure read.