RIP: Kurt Vonnegut

April 12, 2007

Another good one gone.

Like many, I met Kurt Vonnegut through his much anthologized story, Harrison Bergeron. I was at the perfect age to read it: old enough to understand that this was a different kind of story– one of philosophy and moral and dark humor– but young enough not to be so jaded as to lack appreciation for them. I then went on a Vonnegut binge from Slaughterhouse Five to Player Piano and everything he’s written since then including the should-have-been-burned-in-manuscript Timequake.

If some of his work remains a guilty, partly secret pleasure– admitted only after drinking a bit and often in tandem with confessions involving Ayn Rand and Derrida– it in no way lowers my estimation of Vonnegut. Few pierced the easy facade of life– particularly American and now “Western” life, supported by the wampeters, foma and granfalloons as enjoyably and memorably as he did.

And amongst much good advice for writing and living alike, I’ll always remember this (one of his eight rules):

Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.

Tags: obit, writers, Writing