God I love that picture…it's so perfect, the expression on Vonnegut's face, the way he's looking back over his shoulder at us. I don't know, it's such an iconic photo, it's exactly how I always imagine him. The fact that his wife took it is that much more perfect. Several months ago I informed the blogosphere that I was embarking on a chronological reading of Vonnegut's novels…around a month ago, I finally completed it, with a few length breaks in there for good measure. In a way I regret the breaks, but still, at the conclusion of the study, I feel I have a much more comprehensive grasp on Vonnegut as a writer. If you've never done a chronological reading of a writer, I highly recommend it: it will be as big a revelation in understanding the development of the writer as reading a bookshelf's worth of literary criticism.

Anyway, here are a few sentences on each of the books [obviously, this is a long post, my apologies]:

Player Piano: I'd read it before, and my thoughts now were more or less what they were then––if this was Kurt Vonnegut's first novel, maybe there's hope for me yet. Squarely mediocre sci-fi, but of course still amazing and moving since it's Vonnegut.

Sirens of Titan: This book was written seven years after Player Piano, and during that time Vonnegut must have undergone some kind of radical transformation, making the jump from average sci-fi guy to timeless master in one quick move. I've read this book three or four times now, loving it more every time. Heartbreakingly great.

Mother Night: I'd also read this one a few times prior to the study, but I still believe it's one of his most underrated works. It's not very sci-fi, or recognizably Vonnegut in some ways as it's the story of an American spy who did amazing work for the Nazis, but still, the kindness Vonnegut treated (most of) his characters with is astounding. Very well crafted, this book deserves to stand with the other masterpieces.

Cat's Cradle: I still believe this should be recognized as Vonnegut's best book. This is one that every high school English student should get the chance to read, to understand that a masterpiece can still be fun, while providing as much depth and opportunity for analysis as Thomas Hardy or other drudgery.

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater: This was the first novel in the study I hadn't read, the story of Eliot Rosewater, big-hearted rich philanthropist and personal savior of Rosewater County. Told almost in a series of vignettes, this is a book subtly different from most of the others. Impressive, but not as enjoyable on an emotional level as the other books.

Slaughterhouse-Five: Nothing new to say about it. Every word is perfect.

Happy Birthday, Wanda June: I don't read many plays, but I liked this one. Interacts with the Odyssey on some cool levels, and may have been the first work of fiction (it was written in 1970) to point out what an asshole Odysseus would be if he were real.

Breakfast of Champions: Of course I'd read this before, too, but this time I found the book incredibly depressing. Having gone through all the novels to this point, it's clear to see that Vonnegut had lost his love of writing at this point in his career. His style has started to implode, and it's clear that he's getting tired.

Slapstick: The beginning of that implosion in the last book comes through here. I was incredibly disheartened by this book. It's clear that the suicide of his sister has destroyed Vonnegut's world, and while his attempt to piece together a novel may be valiant, it's certainly not enjoyable. The end seems to be Vonnegut throwing up his hands and saying, "What's the point?" The most depressing book I've read in a while, both within itself and in the context of Vonnegut's career.

Wampeters, Foma and Granfaloons: After the "first death" of his fiction career, with Slapstick, Vonnegut published this collection of nonfiction, which ended up being the seed of a weird non-fiction/autobiography/fiction hybrid genre that I believe Vonnegut has pioneered. I'd read this before, too, but it was interesting to look at the dated material and pair it up with novels he'd written in that time period, which I'd just read.

Jailbird: I had never read this one before, and it was the first big pleasure I got out of unread books in the study. I had to doublecheck that it was written in 1979, since that must make it the first great anti-corporate novel in America, coming long before the critiques of the mid-80s and 90s. Ironically, the protagonist's last name is Starbuck. This one's a real treat, and ends up being a more appropriate critique of today's world than that of the late 70s/early 80s.

Palm Sunday: The realization of Wampeters' promise. I'd read this before, but again, having followed along with Vonnegut's creative life, it was great to see it catalogued this way. This is one of the more unique books in his canon, and I think more people should read it.

Deadeye Dick: The second great joy of this study, Deadeye Dick totally caught me off guard with how good it is. It's one of the hardest books to describe, but it's really worth reading.

Galapagos: To me, this is maybe the best Vonnegut book that 90% of even Vonnegut fans haven't read. I read it a while ago, when Shar foisted it on me, and I remain as blown away by it now as then. It's as intricately constructed at Sirens, but with a very modern take on the natural flipside of evolution and natural selection. The message? Your brain is bad. Plus, unlike some of the more recent stuff, it's as good a plot-based story as the older Vonnegut.

Bluebeard: Another previously unread-treasure, this is the second-best book that 90% of even Vonnegut fans haven't read. No kidding, this book made me cry…twice, I think. It's the autobiography of Rabo Karabekian, the modern artist from Breakfast, and now the laughingstock of the nation. He's been hiding his final masterpiece in a potato barn, and…well, you should read it.

Fates Worse Than Death: In the vein of Palm Sunday and Wampeters, but better than both of them. Had read it before, loved it again.

Hocus Pocus: There was quite a hiccup in the study before I finally bowled through Hocus Pocus. Most fans who've read it say it didn't leave much of a lasting impression on them, and I think if I'd plowed through it right after all the previous stuff, I would have felt the same way. Instead, with deeper reflection, I have to say it's one of the more subtly done works of Vonnegut's career, weaving together nearly every previous theme and message he'd put forth into one, very tightly constructed work that I think people should take a second look at.

Timequake: I hadn't read this before either, but I was pleasantly surprised by it. It's a unique novel, fusing together the Palm Sunday/Fates Worse Than Death style with a more fictionalized sensibility, creating a work that, while maybe frustrating to casual readers because of its seeming lack of structure, was really impressive to me, as the last full-length fictional work of Vonnegut's career.

God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian: A collection of radio vignettes done by Vonnegut, in which he acts as an afterlife explorer, interviewing dead people. Very cool and experimental, but still very Vonnegut.

A Man Without a Country: Vonnegut's last published book of his lifetime, this book is really sad. If you've read late Twain, after he gave up on trying to laugh at the world's horrors and started being horrified by them, you know what this book sounds like. It's still an essential read, but it's not for a day at the beach.

The future: There are plans to release the final novel Vonnegut was working on, incomplete, as well as finalized plans to release a final collection of essays and speeches, with an introduction by his son Mark, on April Fool's Day. The books is called Armageddon in Retrospect, and will apparently focus primarily on topics of war and peace, including a few short stories, as well as a non-fiction account of Vonnegut's Dresden experiences. I can't wait, and I couldn't be happier that the true conclusion of my Vonnegut study lies somewhere out there on the horizon.

Labels: Generalness, Vonnegut

It's been kind of a lazy sort of working day today; I'm sending off a few District emails, so my role at that publication should become clearer over the next few days.

In the meantime, I don't really have a lot going on to blog about; Pat and I have been working together all day, which has become a comfortable and highly productive habit. I'm going strong on the first of two novels I'm hoping to have done by the end of July, one that I feel fulfills me as a writer and one that I'm relatively sure I can sell.

Anyway, since my real life is so boring, I thought I'd share a few thoughts about my trip through the Works of Kurt Vonnegut. Currently I'm, oh I don't know, halfway-ish, having finished Player Piano, Sirens of Titan, Mother Night, Cat's Cradle, God Bless You Mr. Rosewater, Slaughterhouse, Happy Birthday Wanda June, Between Time and Timbuktu, Breakfast of Champions, and Wampeters. I'm currently reading Slapstick, which many have assured me will be my least favorite of the novels.

I'm finding that this kind of linear trip is very rewarding. It adds a touch of irony, certainly, to reading about Vonnegut's theories of time in Sirens and Slaughterhouse. He tells us that every moment still exists, and always will. His books are proof that at least parts of moments, or maybe collections of moments, do go on. And I get to pick them out of the air and read them in any order I want (this thought makes me feel that maybe a chronological study, for all its rewards, is actually kind of a boring choice). It's also been great to track his development as a writer, watching his self-referential, joky style kind of fold in on itself until it fully implodes in Breakfast of Champions.

Of the books I'd read before this study, Breakfast is by far the one that I've come to fully appreciate as a result of the ordered reading. I've always thought of it as a funny book, which it is in a way, but I think I laughed less at it than I did at most of the books that preceded it. The underlying sadness of the novel stood out like it was highlighted this read through; the fun and joy that Vonnegut clearly took in writing the earlier novels, particularly Cat's Cradle, seems to have dried up. That said, I liked it even more this time.

It's also been incredibly rewarding to track the development of the recurring characters, but Shar has told me that the really big twists and turns come later on, so I guess I'll wait until I'm done with the entire study to talk about that. Until then, then.

Labels: Generalness, Vonnegut

Tomorrow will be one month since Vonnegut died, and I have to say, the world still seems a little different. I've never been this affected by the death of someone I didn't know; the fact that I was likely to meet him in June doesn't help, I'm sure.

I'm currently approximately knee deep in a chronological Vonnegut study (as it's the only tribute I'd know how to pay). I've read Player Piano, Sirens, Mother Night, and Cat's Cradle, and am currently loving God Bless You Mr Rosewater, the first book on my list that I haven't actually read before. It's very good, of course, but you knew I'd say that. This is the third chronological study I've done, after Joyce and Fitzgerald, and I have to say that there is no better way to appreciate the scope and development of a writer. Watching Vonnegut's spectacular rise from "good sci-fi writer" to "Vonnegut with a capital V" has been amazing. And to think we all shared an orbiting spaceship with him...

I've sent the Union's Vonnegut tribute to his art dealer and friend, who was nice enough to sell me a hand-signed asterix litho for my fiancee last Christmas for a scant $75. The same piece is now going for $300. So it goes.

Labels: Vonnegut