Kurt Vonnegut just passed away age 84. He was one of my very favorite contemporary authors, no, one my very favorite authors, period.
My first Vonnegut book was Galapagos, and he had me from the first sentence: "THE THING WAS: One million years ago, back in 1986 A.D..." His easy mix of absurd americana and science-fiction and postmodern concepts has never ceased to charm me, and his prose flies by all too quickly. Which is probably why I've kept my collection half-unread. Slapstick, Breakfast of Champions, Deadeye Dick, God Bless You Mr Rosewater (and Mr. Kevorkian), Timequake, Hocus Pocus, I've liked or loved them all. But I'm keeping Slaughterhouse-Five, The Sirens of Titan, Mother Night, Welcome to the Monkey House, Bluebeard, Fates Worse Than Death, Cat's Cradle and the rest for a rainy day. And now more than ever, I have to parcel them out, like I have Shakespeare's plays.
Of course, Vonnegut has died before. He's had himself die in his own books. And his death was announced in the papers here a few years ago. He recoverred from those setbacks. May he do so again. The body of work he has left us has made him immortal, after a fashion, but the books we've no doubt lost will be missed, as will the man himself.
A couple of related links:
The Boing-Boing entry on his death, with many links to hommages, news and multi-media, including a clip of his interview on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart.
Comments
Mother Night and Welcome to the Monkey House in particular I wouldn't wait too long to read, because you'll kick yourself many times over for having waited this long. :-)