Here at BAPL we are holding a celebration in honor of Kurt Vonnegut’s 100th birthday. The great author was born on November 11, 1922. He died in 2007 but the 100 year mark of his birth is a great excuse to hold a party and do a read-aloud of Slaughter-House Five. Would you like to sign up to read a section? Email Mr. Berk here! Our event is actually held one day after his birthdate on Saturday, November 12.
In discussing this upcoming events with some friends of BAPL, we learned that musician, podcaster, and speaker George Hrab is a huge Vonnegut fan. He signed up to read of course and also shared a personal story of what Vonnegut means to him. Read it here and come hear George do some KV on 11/12 at BAPL!
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standard among the standardy-standard questions I’m asked invariably involves influences. Musical influences, critical thinking influences, personal influences… I have my regular roster of influential characters: Zappa, Randi, Yes, Stan Freberg, Rush, Carl Sagan, Robert Fripp, etc. If you’ve been keeping score of what I like to talk about, there is a regular team of Hrabatis Personaethat I often mention and expound endlessly about. And this here then (finally) is the point: There is one incredibly influential person that I’ve all but forgotten to talk about for the last decade or more when discussing the inspirational chemistry that makes up my psyche’s particular formula.
That person is Kurt Vonnegut.
On Sunday I watched the documentary Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time and was absolutely overwhelmed while being reminded at how much I ‘effing adore Vonnegut. I don’t read much fiction, (if any) but have literally read EVERY book Vonnegut ever wrote. From Player Piano to Timequake and a slew of essays and short stories in between— I have consumed and digested just about every single word written by Kilgore Trout’s cognomen. I have all of his collected essays, and everything that has posthumously come out since his passing in 2007.
And good-gravy have I loved them all.
It all started in high school when not only did we read Cat’s Cradle in English class (as well as Slaughterhouse Five) but during my senior year, Mr. Bergman (MKA’s drama teacher at the time) decided to mount a production of Cat’s Cradle as the spring play. Mind you, there is no “theater” version of that book— he just decided that whoever was cast would adapt and write the play THEMSELVES. At the time— having only read two Vonnegut books so far— it was such an appealing idea that for the first time since 6th grade I decided to NOT play baseball, and tried out for the play.** Up until two weeks ago when I auditioned for Spamalot, this was my only other swing at theatrical acting. Mr. Bergman even wrote to Vonnegut asking for permission to adapt the book, and can you believe it— HE WROTE BACK. His letter was typewriter-typed on a piece of stationary and essentially said—
-K
Unreal. THEN— right before opening night we received ANOTHER letter from Kurt saying :
Cat’s Cradle at the fictitious Montclair Kimberley Academy:
Don’t break a leg.
Cheers and love,
-K
How can you not fall in love with someone like that?
What struck me while watching the documentary (which is on HULU by the way) was how utterly familiar I was with everything that was being discussed, and how little I’ve recently thought about those books and his writing. His influence on me was and is immense, and it extends from my early agnosticism al the way to the very style of writing you’re reading right here in this letter. The doc desperately made me want to re-read all of his works, and luckily enough they’re ALL on the bookshelf in my library-study. Keen eyed viewers of Seven Songs might have even spied the complete series of Vonnegut paperbacks lined up together just behind the Paypal and Venmo signs. As soon as I finish what I’m currently pouring through (Nick Offerman’s latest ode to wood) I’m going to dive into a Vonnegetian renaissance. Ahhh…Where to begin?
Needless to say, the documentary is well worth your eyeballs, even if you’re not familiar or particularly a fan of this seminal American author. His story is one of diligence, persistence, late success and heartbreak; plus reveals both sides of his love and cruelty. Interviews are with his children and his contemporaries, and has been in the works for something like 30 years. Quite incredible.
One final thing: Unbelievably, it turns out that I’ve been saying Bokonon wrong for the last 35 years. Seriously. Bokonon is the spiritual center and non-theistic guru of Cat’s Cradle (I was his voice in our high school production, natch), and we ALL pronounced his name boko-NON, with the stress on the NON. Turns out, it’s supposed to be bo-KO-nan. (bo-COnan.)
And so it goes.
Until the next one I remain,
-Geo
http://maynard.com.au/george-
** The audition consisted of having to adapt a scene from a book and do multiple characters. I chose— FOR OBVIOUS HIGH SCHOOL ANGST REASONS— a torture scene from Orwell’s 1984. I can’t quite believe it, but I still have that very copy with my notes. I know, I know— call the HOARDER PATROL. Whatever.
