Goodbye, Kurt Vonnegut

Whatever Kurt Vonnegut is thinking in death, I’m sure he would be amused to note that while Don Imus spent yesterday on the front page of every major news website, news of Vonnegut’s death–and life–was relegated to the small print. (A distinction he shares, in a way, with Rosa Parks, whose death most news organizations reported as a footnote until nearly 24 hours later. Any further similarity between the two, other than malcontentedness, escapes me.)

Like many aspiring writers, I idolized Vonnegut while I was finding–or trying to find–my voice. Slaughterhouse Five has been on my “top 5″ reading list for nearly as long as I can remember reading. I strongly identified with his sad humanism and simple writing that spoke volumes in paragraphs. And his sketches and biting commentary for In These Times has helped keep me smiling at politics:

TROUT Did you watch the State of the Union address?

KV Yes, and it certainly helped to remember what the late British philosopher and mathematician Bertrand Russell called this planet.

TROUT Which was?

KV “The lunatic asylum of the Universe.” He said the inmates had taken over and were trashing the joint. And he wasn’t talking about the germs or the elephants. He meant we the people.

(From “State of the Asylum“)

I have nothing unique or interesting to add to the chorus of eulogies and remembrances, but I have been choked up since I heard the news, and feel the need to say something to mark the passing of one of the greatest American writers.

Read more about Vonnegut at Wikipedia. Or browse his contributions to the magazine In These Times from after he “quit” fiction. His own website displays only an open birdcage now that Vonnegut has “flown the coop.” Pick out a novel or two to read in the coming weeks.

So it goes.