Just finished re-reading Slapstick by Kurt Vonnegut. Vonnegut is also a writer I usually read while on break from school--one of my literary "guilty-pleasures." I've read all his novels at least once, most of them more than once. It was time to do Slapstick again.
I should admit here that I worship Kurt Vonnegut. He's been my favorite writer for 25 years. I want to say that Slapstick was my first Vonnegut, but that's not true. I recall now having to read Cat's Cradle my sophomore year of high school. But I had to read it, so I didn't really appreciate it. Slapstick was the first Vonnegut I appreciated (read on my own). Once I finished it, I knew I would read all his books. He does that: you want to grab another one of his books and start reading; either that or re-read the one you've just read.
What was the appeal? It was an easy read, for one thing. Vonnegut is a master of the short, quippy chapter. It was funny, too, while dealing with what would generally be thought depressing. It is depressing, a sugar-coated bitter pill. But it was a pill that I hungered for in my late-high-school nihilism, a pill that was medicine at that time in my life. He also is one of the most compassionate writers I've ever read, making heroes of misfits, making that misfit that was me a hero as well.
I also love the way he brings in different kinds of texts and media into the stories--handbooks, telegrams, papers disputing the laws of gravity, not to mention drawings--and his catch-phrases ("Hi ho.") And I especially like his autobiographical prefaces. These are often the best part of the book, especially when he baldly recycles jokes from the preface in the novel proper.
I've always had the gift of being able to pick up a book I've read a few years later and have a totally different reading experience. That was true of this reading of Slapstick. Once again Vonnegut masterfully created a funky dystopia. Vonnegut is the only writer who regularly makes me want to live in his dystopias, usually because the community of crazies who live there are so entertaining, and so human. So once again I laughed, I cried, I read late into the night. Once again I fell in love with his crazy fools, in this case the freakish twins Wilbur and Eliza, with their wild schemes to make the world a better place. Imagine a presidential candidate (Wilbur) who's main policy proposal is to program a computer to generate a random middle name for every American, instantly creating a new family of thousands for everyone. He'd get my vote.
I did have a little problem with the book which I don't remember having when I first read it. The main narrator dies before the story ends, but the story is continued by another narrator speaking in the same voice. Why Kurt? I guess I need to ponder that one like a koan.
At this point I give a shout out not for dear Kurt (hoping he'll relent and write another novel, which he's vowed not to do), but to Audrey Braun, who gave Slapstick to me to read the first time 25 years ago. Who knows, maybe she'll Google herself sometime and find this entry. Thanks Audrey. Hope life is treating you well. Thanks for giving me the gift of Vonnegut. As Wilbur says, "I had to laugh," and you knew that, and gave me the book that would make me do it. Thanks again.
Hi ho.
Posted by jeb at January 26, 2005 9:59 PM | TrackBack