Wednesday my life was profoundly changed.
One of the people I admire most in this world, Kurt Vonnegut, died.
At first, I considered writing an “Our View” about it, killing two birds with one stone (the birds being both the conundrum of what to write for the staff editorial and being able to give tribute to [in my humble opinion] the most important writer of the second half of the 20th century.) Yet, the way Vonnegut affected my life was so personal, only a column could capture the kind of intimate way he touched his readers. I apologize in advance if I come off sounding like an obsessive sycophant, but the man just had that kind of an affect on people.
Vonnegut could only be described in one way – a surly old bastard (pardon my vulgarity, to those of you who are adverse to such crassness).
Despite his sharp, often cynical disposition, his sarcasm and ability to poke fun and illuminate the ridiculousness inherent in life, was his redeeming quality that saved his books (and readers) from utter despair.
Instead of trying to avoid discussing the ugliness in the world, Vonnegut highlighted, underlined and used all means necessary to elucidate current issues, using his writing skills to make them both obvious and humorous.
Instead of cursing the cigarette companies that have killed millions of people, he cursed them for not having killed him sooner. Instead of mocking our country’s leaders because of their policies (or rather to supplement his complaints about our domestic and foreign policies), he remarked on the strangeness that all of their names resemble those of nether-region body parts: Dick, Colin (colon) and Bush.
Instead of writing hateful books vehemently denouncing the atrocities committed by Adolf Hitler, he drew attention to Hilter’s actions through underemphasizing them, calling him a “bad guesser.”
The man had a special kind of genius.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with his writings, Vonnegut wrote about such rosy topics as the end of the world (“Cat’s Cradle”), World War II (“Slaughterhouse-Five”) and committing suicide to conduct interviews with people on his way to the Pearly Gates (“God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian”), those being among his most recognized works (or at least those deserving recognition).
Vonnegut’s most meaningful work may have been outside his writing though, heading the American Humanist Association, where he followed in the footsteps of one of the other most prolific American writers: Issac Asimov. As Vonnegut defined it, humanists are people who “behave decently without any expectation of rewards or punishments after [they are] dead.”
Heading such an organization is quite an admirable endeavor. Despite his disagreement with the idea of an afterlife, he was still incredibly respectful toward the beliefs and traditions in organized religion, famously saying, “If it weren’t for the message of mercy and pity in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, I wouldn’t want to be a human being. I would just as soon be a rattlesnake.”
After reading that I was convinced I wanted to marry the man – sort of. But Vonnegut was an example for all people. He was both a critically thinking citizen, and someone who had a child-like way of laughing at life. Probably most importantly, he respected and recognized some beneficial qualities in ideologies he didn’t agree with. He was an exemplary human being, and we all can be sure “Kurt is up in heaven right now.”
Lauren Williams is a junior journalism and political science major and the opinion editor for the Daily Forty-Niner.
