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Palm Sunday
Vonnegut was a memorable novelist, but this work is, though memorable, entirely something else: Vonnegut has assembled some powerful and disturbing confessional essays which take the curtain between writer and novelistic material aside, and in some pieces like the ""Self Interview"" published in The Paris Review no. 69 or the audacious 1972 short story, ""The Big Space F***,"" Vonnegut has produced material as potent and disturbing as any of his novels.
There are political speeches and endorsements (""Dear Mr. McCarthy""), blistering self-evaluation (""I Am Embarrassed"") and the kind of consideration of contemporaries (the review of ""Something Happened"") which function as direct testimony. Even when writing in occasional mode, Vonnegut was unable to escape a sense of occasion, and perhaps no modern collection has been as painfully self-exposed as this by a writer who of course was always self-exposed, a writer who made Delmore Schwartz's ""wound of consciousness"" his true text.
Palm Sunday (1981) can best be described as an ""occasional book"", the kind of potpourri which a successful (or not so successful) novelist would drop in-between books. Usually, though by no means always, a short story collection, the occasional work is meant to keep the writer's name (and work) before the public during a fallow time. The work in it is assembled from magazine publications or journalistic pieces and although regarded as secondary, it has proven in the cases like those of A.J. Liebling or Dorothy Parker to be the exemplary testimony of the writer. This is not the case here.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007) is one of the most beloved American writers of the twentieth century. Vonnegut's audience increased steadily since his first five pieces in the 1950s and grew from there. His 1968 novel Slaughterhouse-Five has become a canonic war novel with Joseph Heller's Catch-22 to form the truest and darkest of what came from World War II.
Vonnegut began his career as a science fiction writer, and his early novels--Player Piano and The Sirens of Titan--were categorized as such even as they appealed to an audience far beyond the reach of the category. In the 1960s, Vonnegut became closely associated with the Baby Boomer generation, a writer on that side, so to speak.
Now that Vonnegut's work has been studied as a large body of work, it has been more deeply understood and unified. There is a consistency to his satirical insight, humor and anger which makes his work so synergistic. It seems clear that the more of Vonnegut's work you read, the more it resonates and the more you wish to read. Scholars believe that Vonnegut's reputation (like Mark Twain's) will grow steadily through the decades as his work continues to increase in relevance and new connections are formed, new insights made.
ABOUT THE SERIES
Author Kurt Vonnegut is considered by most to be one of the most important writers of the twentieth century. His books Slaughterhouse-Five (named after Vonnegut's World War II POW experience) and Cat's Cradle are considered among his top works. RosettaBooks offers here a complete range of Vonnegut's work, including his first novel (Player Piano, 1952) for readers familiar with Vonnegut's work as well as newcomers.
There are political speeches and endorsements (""Dear Mr. McCarthy""), blistering self-evaluation (""I Am Embarrassed"") and the kind of consideration of contemporaries (the review of ""Something Happened"") which function as direct testimony. Even when writing in occasional mode, Vonnegut was unable to escape a sense of occasion, and perhaps no modern collection has been as painfully self-exposed as this by a writer who of course was always self-exposed, a writer who made Delmore Schwartz's ""wound of consciousness"" his true text.
Palm Sunday (1981) can best be described as an ""occasional book"", the kind of potpourri which a successful (or not so successful) novelist would drop in-between books. Usually, though by no means always, a short story collection, the occasional work is meant to keep the writer's name (and work) before the public during a fallow time. The work in it is assembled from magazine publications or journalistic pieces and although regarded as secondary, it has proven in the cases like those of A.J. Liebling or Dorothy Parker to be the exemplary testimony of the writer. This is not the case here.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007) is one of the most beloved American writers of the twentieth century. Vonnegut's audience increased steadily since his first five pieces in the 1950s and grew from there. His 1968 novel Slaughterhouse-Five has become a canonic war novel with Joseph Heller's Catch-22 to form the truest and darkest of what came from World War II.
Vonnegut began his career as a science fiction writer, and his early novels--Player Piano and The Sirens of Titan--were categorized as such even as they appealed to an audience far beyond the reach of the category. In the 1960s, Vonnegut became closely associated with the Baby Boomer generation, a writer on that side, so to speak.
Now that Vonnegut's work has been studied as a large body of work, it has been more deeply understood and unified. There is a consistency to his satirical insight, humor and anger which makes his work so synergistic. It seems clear that the more of Vonnegut's work you read, the more it resonates and the more you wish to read. Scholars believe that Vonnegut's reputation (like Mark Twain's) will grow steadily through the decades as his work continues to increase in relevance and new connections are formed, new insights made.
ABOUT THE SERIES
Author Kurt Vonnegut is considered by most to be one of the most important writers of the twentieth century. His books Slaughterhouse-Five (named after Vonnegut's World War II POW experience) and Cat's Cradle are considered among his top works. RosettaBooks offers here a complete range of Vonnegut's work, including his first novel (Player Piano, 1952) for readers familiar with Vonnegut's work as well as newcomers.
322 pages, ebook
First published January 1, 1981
356 people are currently reading
6312 people want to read
About the author
Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
710 books36.9k followersKurt Vonnegut, Junior was an American novelist, satirist, and most recently, graphic artist. He was recognized as New York State Author for 2001-2003.
He was born in Indianapolis, later the setting for many of his novels. He attended Cornell University from 1941 to 1943, where he wrote a column for the student newspaper, the Cornell Daily Sun. Vonnegut trained as a chemist and worked as a journalist before joining the U.S. Army and serving in World War II.
After the war, he attended University of Chicago as a graduate student in anthropology and also worked as a police reporter at the City News Bureau of Chicago. He left Chicago to work in Schenectady, New York in public relations for General Electric. He attributed his unadorned writing style to his reporting work.
His experiences as an advance scout in the Battle of the Bulge, and in particular his witnessing of the bombing of Dresden, Germany whilst a prisoner of war, would inform much of his work. This event would also form the core of his most famous work, Slaughterhouse-Five, the book which would make him a millionaire. This acerbic 200-page book is what most people mean when they describe a work as "Vonnegutian" in scope.
Vonnegut was a self-proclaimed humanist and socialist (influenced by the style of Indiana's own Eugene V. Debs) and a lifelong supporter of the American Civil Liberties Union.
The novelist is known for works blending satire, black comedy and science fiction, such as Slaughterhouse-Five (1969), Cat's Cradle (1963), and Breakfast of Champions (1973)
He was born in Indianapolis, later the setting for many of his novels. He attended Cornell University from 1941 to 1943, where he wrote a column for the student newspaper, the Cornell Daily Sun. Vonnegut trained as a chemist and worked as a journalist before joining the U.S. Army and serving in World War II.
After the war, he attended University of Chicago as a graduate student in anthropology and also worked as a police reporter at the City News Bureau of Chicago. He left Chicago to work in Schenectady, New York in public relations for General Electric. He attributed his unadorned writing style to his reporting work.
His experiences as an advance scout in the Battle of the Bulge, and in particular his witnessing of the bombing of Dresden, Germany whilst a prisoner of war, would inform much of his work. This event would also form the core of his most famous work, Slaughterhouse-Five, the book which would make him a millionaire. This acerbic 200-page book is what most people mean when they describe a work as "Vonnegutian" in scope.
Vonnegut was a self-proclaimed humanist and socialist (influenced by the style of Indiana's own Eugene V. Debs) and a lifelong supporter of the American Civil Liberties Union.
The novelist is known for works blending satire, black comedy and science fiction, such as Slaughterhouse-Five (1969), Cat's Cradle (1963), and Breakfast of Champions (1973)
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April 13, 2025
Palm Sunday is a day of great importance in the Christian calendar – commemorating, as it does, the day on which Jesus of Nazareth made His triumphal entry into the city of Jerusalem, a few days before the Last Supper and the Passion. So why would a writer as famously skeptical as Kurt Vonnegut Jr. give this 1981 book the title Palm Sunday? After all, Vonnegut is the man who, while speaking in 1980 at the First Parish Unitarian Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, said, “Anytime I see a person fleeing from reason and into religion, I think to myself, ‘There goes a person who simply cannot stand being so goddamned lonely anymore’” (p. 196).
Please be assured that there is actually a real and legitimate reason why Vonnegut gave this Autobiographical Collage (the book’s subtitle) the title Palm Sunday -- and we’ll get to that, I promise. For now, suffice it to say that this collection of speeches, addresses, letters, and sketches provides a valuable look at the philosophy and the concerns of a great American author.
Vonnegut is renowned for his avuncular, conversational voice, and for the way he uses humor and irony as a way of addressing difficult human truths. His Midwestern roots – he is originally from Indianapolis – come through in books like Breakfast of Champions (1973), his satire of Middle American commercialism, materialism, and shallowness of thought.
And he has used the medium of science fiction to make very real points about human folly and weakness – most famously in Slaughterhouse-Five (1969), a novel based in part on Vonnegut’s real-life experiences as a prisoner of war in Nazi Germany during the Second World War. Fans of the novel already know that the only reason Vonnegut survived the Allied firebombing of Dresden in February of 1945 was that, during the bombardment, he and his fellow P.O.W.'s were incarcerated in an underground slaughterhouse – Schlachthaus-Fünf, or Slaughterhouse-Five. That Vonnegut survived while 25,000 people above him were incinerated got him thinking a lot about life and death, and about human beings’ capacity for good or evil – and he spent his entire literary career exploring just those kinds of concerns.
Readers of Palm Sunday who are themselves aspiring writers may appreciate Vonnegut’s insights regarding the art and craft of writing. In “When I Lost My Innocence,” Vonnegut recalls how he was invited to speak at the annual banquet of the Cornell Daily Sun, the student newspaper for which he once worked, in May of 1980. Vonnegut told his listeners that “That is how you get to be a writer, incidentally: you feel somehow marginal, somehow slightly off-balance all the time” (p. 59).
Any writer, I think, would benefit from the advice that Vonnegut offered to his Cornell Daily Sun colleagues on this occasion: “If a sentence, no matter how excellent, does not illuminate my subject in some new and useful way, scratch it out. Here is the same rule paraphrased to apply to storytelling, to fiction: Never include a sentence which does not either remark on character or advance the action” (p. 68).
Vonnegut continues with these reflections on the writer’s art in a “self-interview” that he published in The Paris Review in 1977. Talking to himself – quite literally – Vonnegut states that “It’s the writer’s job to stage confrontations, so the characters will say surprising and revealing things, and educate and entertain us all. If a writer can’t or won’t do that, he should withdraw from the trade”. Pursuing the metaphor of writing as a trade, Vonnegut as interviewee adds (for the benefit of himself as interviewer) that "Carpenters build houses. Storytellers use a reader’s leisure time in such a way that the reader will not feel that his time has been wasted. Mechanics fix automobiles" (p. 99).
In “The People One Knows,” Vonnegut, talking about his life as a writer, provides a 3-page list of writers whom he knows personally, from Chinua Achebe to Richard Yates. It’s enough to make one jealous. But then Vonnegut does his level best to demystify the status of “being a writer,” stating that
…novelists are not only unusually depressed, by and large, but have, on the average, about the same IQ’s as the cosmetics consultants at Bloomingdale’s department store. Our power is patience. We have discovered that writing allows even a stupid person to seem reasonably intelligent, if only that person will write the same thought over and over again, improving it just a little bit each time. It is a lot like inflating a blimp with a bicycle pump. Anybody can do it. All it takes is time. (p. 115)
In a chapter titled “Embarrassment,” Vonnegut talks about some of the things that embarrass him; for example, he is embarrassed at the way a number of his Indiana relatives are embarrassed by his books. In the process of discussing another thing that embarrasses him – the failure of his first marriage, after 25 years – he starts to explain the circumstances under which the marriage ends, but then corrects himself: “But I am beginning to explain, which is a violation of a rule I lay down whenever I teach a class in writing. ‘All you can do is tell what happened. You will get thrown out of this course if you are arrogant enough to imagine that you can tell me why it happened. You do not know. You cannot know’” (p. 171). Once again, he provides good advice for writers.
Because Vonnegut’s humor has always reminded me of Mark Twain’s, I was delighted to learn that Vonnegut was asked in 1979 to speak at the Mark Twain house in Hartford, Connecticut, on the 100th anniversary of the house’s completion. Again, he used the occasion as an opportunity to discuss the writer’s art, saying that “the secret of good storytelling is “to lie, but to keep the arithmetic sound. A storyteller, like any other sort of enthusiastic liar, is on an unpredictable adventure. His initial lie, his premise, will suggest many new lies of its own. The storyteller must choose among them, seeking those which are most believable, which keep the arithmetic sound” (p. 153).
Vonnegut then applies these ideas to Twain’s work, calling Adventures of Huckleberry Finn a “world masterpiece” (as, of course, it is), and then going on to describe A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court as “The wildest adventure, with Missouri calculation, of which I know” (p. 153). In the process, Vonnegut zeroes in on the later passages of Connecticut Yankee, in which protagonist Hank Morgan and 54 of his followers use late-19th-century weapons technology to kill 25,000 enemy knights.
Vonnegut says, “How appalled this entertainer must have been to have his innocent joking about technology and superstition lead him inexorably to such a ghastly end”, and invites his listeners, there at Twain’s Hartford home, to reflect on how Twain’s ideas apply only too accurately to the Cold War world in which Vonnegut was speaking on Twain’s work and ideas. Vonnegut states that “the fatal premise of A Connecticut Yankee remains a chief premise of Western civilization, and increasingly of world civilization – to wit: The sanest, most likeable persons, employing superior technology, will enforce sanity throughout the world” (p. 155). The reader who knows Vonnegut’s work is likely to think back to the many and powerful anti-war passages of Slaughterhouse-Five.
Along with being a thoughtful practitioner of the craft or writing, and a ready provider of advice for aspiring writers, Vonnegut is also quite the civil libertarian. In his chapter on “Obscenity,” he talks about how his mother-in-law, and the good people at Indianapolis Magazine, have objected to his use of “certain impolite words” in his books, words about bodily functions and such. Vonnegut answers these objections by writing that “even when I was in grammar school, I suspected that warnings about words that nice people never used were in fact lessons about how to keep our mouths shut not just about our bodies, but about many, many things – perhaps too many things” (p. 202). In short, attempts to control what people say – no matter how good the intentions – are, quite literally, attempts to control what people are capable of thinking.
As an illustration of that principle, Vonnegut tells a sad but true story of how his parents – good and mannerly Indianapolitans, both of them – were ripped off by old friends who offered them an investment “deal” that turned out to be a confidence game. As Vonnegut puts it,
My parents had been taught such nice manners in childhood that it was actually impossible for them to suspect that these old friends of theirs were in league with crooks. They had no simple and practical vocabularies for the parts and functions of their excretory and reproductive systems, and no such vocabularies for treachery and hypocrisy, either. Good manners had made them defenseless against predatory members of their own class.
The point that Vonnegut is making here is twofold. First, censorship is always a matter of enforcing one form or another of “good manners,” of claiming that a word or a poem or a song or a book or an image or a movie is somehow outside the bounds of what is socially acceptable. Second — and this point is worth repeating — when you shut down the range of what can be written or said, you are shutting down the range of what can be thought. Censorship is the tool of tyrants. The censor is never your friend.
Vonnegut’s remarks from an American Civil Liberties Union fundraiser at Sands Point, Long Island (16 September 1979), in the house that was said to be the model for Jay Gatsby’s home in F. Scott Fitzgerald, could be a prophetic anticipation of life in the U.S. in the Trump years: “What troubles me most about my lovely country is that its children are seldom taught that American freedom will vanish, if, when they grow up, and in the exercise of their duties as citizens, they insist that our courts and policemen and prisons be guided by divine or natural law” (p. 10).
Writing almost 50 years ago, Vonnegut anticipates that, one day, there will be plenty of Americans who will be willing to discard American democracy itself, so long as doing so corresponds with their notion of the will of God: “Well – all good things must come to an end, they say. So American freedom will come to an end, too, sooner or later. How will it end? As all freedoms end: by the surrender of our destinies to the highest laws” (p. 10).
In that connection, I might as well mention what may be the most famous part of this book: the letter that Vonnegut wrote to the chair of the Drake, North Dakota, school board in 1973, after he learned that “My novel Slaughterhouse-Five was actually burned in a furnace by a school committee there, and the school board made public statements about the unwholesomeness of the book” (p. 3).
Vonnegut’s letter is a hallmark of the fight for intellectual freedom. After mentioning that he is a family man, an educator, and a World War II infantry veteran and Purple Heart winner, Vonnegut reminds the Drake school board bureaucrat of the reasons why people across the United States of America were shocked and appalled that an American school board would burn an award-winning American novel:
I read in the newspaper that your community is mystified by the outcry from all over the country about what you have done. Well, you have discovered that Drake is a part of American civilization, and your fellow Americans can’t stand it that you have behaved in such an uncivilized way. Perhaps you will learn from this that books are sacred to free men for very good reasons, and that wars have been fought against nations which hate books and burn them. If you are an American, you must allow all ideas to circulate freely in your community, not merely your own. (pp. 5-6).
It is a mike-drop moment if ever there was one – and it is all the more important at a time when ideologically motivated activists across the United States are seeking to remove books from school libraries and public libraries. What these people don’t seem to understand – or what I hope they don’t understand – is that, if every library book that offends someone is removed, eventually there will be no library books. Not even the Bible.
I promised, at the beginning of this review, that I would reveal – and I don’t think this constitutes a spoiler – why this book is called Palm Sunday. The reason is that Vonnegut was asked, by Saint Clement’s Episcopal Church in New York City, to speak there on Palm Sunday in 1980, as “It is the custom of that church, which is also a theatre, to have a stranger preach just once a year” (p. 294).
Vonnegut chose, as his text, the Gospel of Saint John, Chapter 12, verses 1 through 8 – the passage that deals with Mary the sister of Martha wiping Jesus’ feet with aromatic ointment, while Judas Iscariot protests that the money that Mary used to purchase the ointment could instead have been given to the poor. Vonnegut connects this passage from the Greek Testament with his belief that “Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion, to the futility of thinking and striving anymore. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward – and since I can start thinking and striving again that much sooner” (pp. 297-98).
How does Vonnegut establish this seemingly unlikely connection? You’ll have to read the book to find out.
Palm Sunday is a miscellany; and perhaps inevitably, not all the parts that constitute it will work equally for all readers. (Vonnegut’s musical-comedy version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, for example, didn’t do a thing for me.) But it is a bracing experience to spend all this time in the company of such a gifted storyteller as he pulls aside the proverbial curtain and tells us all what has been on his mind.
Please be assured that there is actually a real and legitimate reason why Vonnegut gave this Autobiographical Collage (the book’s subtitle) the title Palm Sunday -- and we’ll get to that, I promise. For now, suffice it to say that this collection of speeches, addresses, letters, and sketches provides a valuable look at the philosophy and the concerns of a great American author.
Vonnegut is renowned for his avuncular, conversational voice, and for the way he uses humor and irony as a way of addressing difficult human truths. His Midwestern roots – he is originally from Indianapolis – come through in books like Breakfast of Champions (1973), his satire of Middle American commercialism, materialism, and shallowness of thought.
And he has used the medium of science fiction to make very real points about human folly and weakness – most famously in Slaughterhouse-Five (1969), a novel based in part on Vonnegut’s real-life experiences as a prisoner of war in Nazi Germany during the Second World War. Fans of the novel already know that the only reason Vonnegut survived the Allied firebombing of Dresden in February of 1945 was that, during the bombardment, he and his fellow P.O.W.'s were incarcerated in an underground slaughterhouse – Schlachthaus-Fünf, or Slaughterhouse-Five. That Vonnegut survived while 25,000 people above him were incinerated got him thinking a lot about life and death, and about human beings’ capacity for good or evil – and he spent his entire literary career exploring just those kinds of concerns.
Readers of Palm Sunday who are themselves aspiring writers may appreciate Vonnegut’s insights regarding the art and craft of writing. In “When I Lost My Innocence,” Vonnegut recalls how he was invited to speak at the annual banquet of the Cornell Daily Sun, the student newspaper for which he once worked, in May of 1980. Vonnegut told his listeners that “That is how you get to be a writer, incidentally: you feel somehow marginal, somehow slightly off-balance all the time” (p. 59).
Any writer, I think, would benefit from the advice that Vonnegut offered to his Cornell Daily Sun colleagues on this occasion: “If a sentence, no matter how excellent, does not illuminate my subject in some new and useful way, scratch it out. Here is the same rule paraphrased to apply to storytelling, to fiction: Never include a sentence which does not either remark on character or advance the action” (p. 68).
Vonnegut continues with these reflections on the writer’s art in a “self-interview” that he published in The Paris Review in 1977. Talking to himself – quite literally – Vonnegut states that “It’s the writer’s job to stage confrontations, so the characters will say surprising and revealing things, and educate and entertain us all. If a writer can’t or won’t do that, he should withdraw from the trade”. Pursuing the metaphor of writing as a trade, Vonnegut as interviewee adds (for the benefit of himself as interviewer) that "Carpenters build houses. Storytellers use a reader’s leisure time in such a way that the reader will not feel that his time has been wasted. Mechanics fix automobiles" (p. 99).
In “The People One Knows,” Vonnegut, talking about his life as a writer, provides a 3-page list of writers whom he knows personally, from Chinua Achebe to Richard Yates. It’s enough to make one jealous. But then Vonnegut does his level best to demystify the status of “being a writer,” stating that
…novelists are not only unusually depressed, by and large, but have, on the average, about the same IQ’s as the cosmetics consultants at Bloomingdale’s department store. Our power is patience. We have discovered that writing allows even a stupid person to seem reasonably intelligent, if only that person will write the same thought over and over again, improving it just a little bit each time. It is a lot like inflating a blimp with a bicycle pump. Anybody can do it. All it takes is time. (p. 115)
In a chapter titled “Embarrassment,” Vonnegut talks about some of the things that embarrass him; for example, he is embarrassed at the way a number of his Indiana relatives are embarrassed by his books. In the process of discussing another thing that embarrasses him – the failure of his first marriage, after 25 years – he starts to explain the circumstances under which the marriage ends, but then corrects himself: “But I am beginning to explain, which is a violation of a rule I lay down whenever I teach a class in writing. ‘All you can do is tell what happened. You will get thrown out of this course if you are arrogant enough to imagine that you can tell me why it happened. You do not know. You cannot know’” (p. 171). Once again, he provides good advice for writers.
Because Vonnegut’s humor has always reminded me of Mark Twain’s, I was delighted to learn that Vonnegut was asked in 1979 to speak at the Mark Twain house in Hartford, Connecticut, on the 100th anniversary of the house’s completion. Again, he used the occasion as an opportunity to discuss the writer’s art, saying that “the secret of good storytelling is “to lie, but to keep the arithmetic sound. A storyteller, like any other sort of enthusiastic liar, is on an unpredictable adventure. His initial lie, his premise, will suggest many new lies of its own. The storyteller must choose among them, seeking those which are most believable, which keep the arithmetic sound” (p. 153).
Vonnegut then applies these ideas to Twain’s work, calling Adventures of Huckleberry Finn a “world masterpiece” (as, of course, it is), and then going on to describe A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court as “The wildest adventure, with Missouri calculation, of which I know” (p. 153). In the process, Vonnegut zeroes in on the later passages of Connecticut Yankee, in which protagonist Hank Morgan and 54 of his followers use late-19th-century weapons technology to kill 25,000 enemy knights.
Vonnegut says, “How appalled this entertainer must have been to have his innocent joking about technology and superstition lead him inexorably to such a ghastly end”, and invites his listeners, there at Twain’s Hartford home, to reflect on how Twain’s ideas apply only too accurately to the Cold War world in which Vonnegut was speaking on Twain’s work and ideas. Vonnegut states that “the fatal premise of A Connecticut Yankee remains a chief premise of Western civilization, and increasingly of world civilization – to wit: The sanest, most likeable persons, employing superior technology, will enforce sanity throughout the world” (p. 155). The reader who knows Vonnegut’s work is likely to think back to the many and powerful anti-war passages of Slaughterhouse-Five.
Along with being a thoughtful practitioner of the craft or writing, and a ready provider of advice for aspiring writers, Vonnegut is also quite the civil libertarian. In his chapter on “Obscenity,” he talks about how his mother-in-law, and the good people at Indianapolis Magazine, have objected to his use of “certain impolite words” in his books, words about bodily functions and such. Vonnegut answers these objections by writing that “even when I was in grammar school, I suspected that warnings about words that nice people never used were in fact lessons about how to keep our mouths shut not just about our bodies, but about many, many things – perhaps too many things” (p. 202). In short, attempts to control what people say – no matter how good the intentions – are, quite literally, attempts to control what people are capable of thinking.
As an illustration of that principle, Vonnegut tells a sad but true story of how his parents – good and mannerly Indianapolitans, both of them – were ripped off by old friends who offered them an investment “deal” that turned out to be a confidence game. As Vonnegut puts it,
My parents had been taught such nice manners in childhood that it was actually impossible for them to suspect that these old friends of theirs were in league with crooks. They had no simple and practical vocabularies for the parts and functions of their excretory and reproductive systems, and no such vocabularies for treachery and hypocrisy, either. Good manners had made them defenseless against predatory members of their own class.
The point that Vonnegut is making here is twofold. First, censorship is always a matter of enforcing one form or another of “good manners,” of claiming that a word or a poem or a song or a book or an image or a movie is somehow outside the bounds of what is socially acceptable. Second — and this point is worth repeating — when you shut down the range of what can be written or said, you are shutting down the range of what can be thought. Censorship is the tool of tyrants. The censor is never your friend.
Vonnegut’s remarks from an American Civil Liberties Union fundraiser at Sands Point, Long Island (16 September 1979), in the house that was said to be the model for Jay Gatsby’s home in F. Scott Fitzgerald, could be a prophetic anticipation of life in the U.S. in the Trump years: “What troubles me most about my lovely country is that its children are seldom taught that American freedom will vanish, if, when they grow up, and in the exercise of their duties as citizens, they insist that our courts and policemen and prisons be guided by divine or natural law” (p. 10).
Writing almost 50 years ago, Vonnegut anticipates that, one day, there will be plenty of Americans who will be willing to discard American democracy itself, so long as doing so corresponds with their notion of the will of God: “Well – all good things must come to an end, they say. So American freedom will come to an end, too, sooner or later. How will it end? As all freedoms end: by the surrender of our destinies to the highest laws” (p. 10).
In that connection, I might as well mention what may be the most famous part of this book: the letter that Vonnegut wrote to the chair of the Drake, North Dakota, school board in 1973, after he learned that “My novel Slaughterhouse-Five was actually burned in a furnace by a school committee there, and the school board made public statements about the unwholesomeness of the book” (p. 3).
Vonnegut’s letter is a hallmark of the fight for intellectual freedom. After mentioning that he is a family man, an educator, and a World War II infantry veteran and Purple Heart winner, Vonnegut reminds the Drake school board bureaucrat of the reasons why people across the United States of America were shocked and appalled that an American school board would burn an award-winning American novel:
I read in the newspaper that your community is mystified by the outcry from all over the country about what you have done. Well, you have discovered that Drake is a part of American civilization, and your fellow Americans can’t stand it that you have behaved in such an uncivilized way. Perhaps you will learn from this that books are sacred to free men for very good reasons, and that wars have been fought against nations which hate books and burn them. If you are an American, you must allow all ideas to circulate freely in your community, not merely your own. (pp. 5-6).
It is a mike-drop moment if ever there was one – and it is all the more important at a time when ideologically motivated activists across the United States are seeking to remove books from school libraries and public libraries. What these people don’t seem to understand – or what I hope they don’t understand – is that, if every library book that offends someone is removed, eventually there will be no library books. Not even the Bible.
I promised, at the beginning of this review, that I would reveal – and I don’t think this constitutes a spoiler – why this book is called Palm Sunday. The reason is that Vonnegut was asked, by Saint Clement’s Episcopal Church in New York City, to speak there on Palm Sunday in 1980, as “It is the custom of that church, which is also a theatre, to have a stranger preach just once a year” (p. 294).
Vonnegut chose, as his text, the Gospel of Saint John, Chapter 12, verses 1 through 8 – the passage that deals with Mary the sister of Martha wiping Jesus’ feet with aromatic ointment, while Judas Iscariot protests that the money that Mary used to purchase the ointment could instead have been given to the poor. Vonnegut connects this passage from the Greek Testament with his belief that “Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion, to the futility of thinking and striving anymore. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward – and since I can start thinking and striving again that much sooner” (pp. 297-98).
How does Vonnegut establish this seemingly unlikely connection? You’ll have to read the book to find out.
Palm Sunday is a miscellany; and perhaps inevitably, not all the parts that constitute it will work equally for all readers. (Vonnegut’s musical-comedy version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, for example, didn’t do a thing for me.) But it is a bracing experience to spend all this time in the company of such a gifted storyteller as he pulls aside the proverbial curtain and tells us all what has been on his mind.
August 4, 2022
"Writers are unlucky speakers, by and large, which accounts for their being in a profession which encourages them to stay at their desks for years, if necessary, pondering what to say next and how best to say it."
Oh, Kurt, you really should have told your publisher you didn't have anything the year you put this together. Told him and your readers they'd have to wait until you had another story to tell.
Kurt Vonnegut could spin a story and had a remarkable gift for putting it on paper. Those gifts did not extend into the public speaking realm though people still invited him to speak at graduations and whatnot anyhow.
Maybe to hear him speak would be different than reading those speeches? One can hope.
This book consists mainly of speeches he delivered and essays about family and famous people he knew, excerpts from a genealogical book a cousin wrote, and yada yada yada. Had it been just about anyone but KV, I'd have DNF'ed this early on.
However, I'm glad I stuck with it because, along with a few gems of wit and wisdom scattered throughout, there were two parts that alone bumped the rating up from one to three stars.
First is his short story "The Space Fuck", which aside from being funny is also the first story (according to KV) to have "fuck" in its title. Friends and followers might recall that I normally dislike short stories (that says a lot, it being one of the best parts of this book for me), and also that "fuck" is one of my favourite words, partly because it's so unfairly maligned, but also because it's so versatile. Kudos to KV for smoothing the way for other writers.
Second is the eponymous chapter "Palm Sunday". It is the only speech in this book that I enjoyed, and it really made me laugh. It's brilliant.
He gave this speech on a Palm Sunday at an Episcopal church (no doubt one of the very few to invite this atheist to speak) and it is about the story where Jesus is having dinner with his disciples and the sisters Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus. Poor Lazzy reeked after having lain dead in a grave for a few days. I guess Jesus used up so much of his magic raising him from the dead that he wasn't able to also stop the rot that had set in.
No wonder Martha had out the oil with which she was massaging Jesus' feet. She was trying to cover the unbearable stench emanating from Brother Lazarus.
Imagine that dinner. The overwhelming smell of rotting flesh. The maggot that dropped from poor Lazarus' half-eaten eyeball, plopping right into his soup. Because his eyeballs were half eaten, he couldn't see very well. Slurp!
Ok, that's not at all what Kurt talked about in this speech but my imagination often takes me places I don't want to go, as friends and followers might also recall.
So anyway, I wouldn't recommend this book unless you're a Vonnegut fan who wants to read all of his works. There are some readers who loved the book but I think if you want to try his nonfiction Man Without a Country is the one to read.
Oh, Kurt, you really should have told your publisher you didn't have anything the year you put this together. Told him and your readers they'd have to wait until you had another story to tell.
Kurt Vonnegut could spin a story and had a remarkable gift for putting it on paper. Those gifts did not extend into the public speaking realm though people still invited him to speak at graduations and whatnot anyhow.
Maybe to hear him speak would be different than reading those speeches? One can hope.
This book consists mainly of speeches he delivered and essays about family and famous people he knew, excerpts from a genealogical book a cousin wrote, and yada yada yada. Had it been just about anyone but KV, I'd have DNF'ed this early on.
However, I'm glad I stuck with it because, along with a few gems of wit and wisdom scattered throughout, there were two parts that alone bumped the rating up from one to three stars.
First is his short story "The Space Fuck", which aside from being funny is also the first story (according to KV) to have "fuck" in its title. Friends and followers might recall that I normally dislike short stories (that says a lot, it being one of the best parts of this book for me), and also that "fuck" is one of my favourite words, partly because it's so unfairly maligned, but also because it's so versatile. Kudos to KV for smoothing the way for other writers.
Second is the eponymous chapter "Palm Sunday". It is the only speech in this book that I enjoyed, and it really made me laugh. It's brilliant.
He gave this speech on a Palm Sunday at an Episcopal church (no doubt one of the very few to invite this atheist to speak) and it is about the story where Jesus is having dinner with his disciples and the sisters Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus. Poor Lazzy reeked after having lain dead in a grave for a few days. I guess Jesus used up so much of his magic raising him from the dead that he wasn't able to also stop the rot that had set in.
No wonder Martha had out the oil with which she was massaging Jesus' feet. She was trying to cover the unbearable stench emanating from Brother Lazarus.
Imagine that dinner. The overwhelming smell of rotting flesh. The maggot that dropped from poor Lazarus' half-eaten eyeball, plopping right into his soup. Because his eyeballs were half eaten, he couldn't see very well. Slurp!
Ok, that's not at all what Kurt talked about in this speech but my imagination often takes me places I don't want to go, as friends and followers might also recall.
So anyway, I wouldn't recommend this book unless you're a Vonnegut fan who wants to read all of his works. There are some readers who loved the book but I think if you want to try his nonfiction Man Without a Country is the one to read.
February 27, 2016
I have been reading Kurt Vonnegut since high school, so going on 30 years. Only now, reading Palm Sunday, an autobiographical collection of essays, notes, letters, sketches, stories and interviews, first published in 1981, could I gain a more complete understanding of one of my favorite authors.
I now understand how autobiographical many of his other books are, with themes gleaned from his experiences. A Los Angeles Times book review said of Vonnegut – “He is either the funniest serious writer around or the most serious funny writer” and I don’t think I can do any better than that.
Palm Sunday is a must for a serious fan and a good book otherwise for anyone else.
I now understand how autobiographical many of his other books are, with themes gleaned from his experiences. A Los Angeles Times book review said of Vonnegut – “He is either the funniest serious writer around or the most serious funny writer” and I don’t think I can do any better than that.
Palm Sunday is a must for a serious fan and a good book otherwise for anyone else.
July 1, 2024
I was introduced to Kurt Vonnegut when I was in university and I became a fan. I am attempting to gradually revisit his work now as a much older person. I still appreciate him, but sometimes for different reasons. This book is a loosely stitched together collection of his short writing, connected with his memories of the context around them.
I vividly remember the first time I read this. I was sick as a dog with a horrible throat infection. I was reading Palm Sunday and swilling cough syrup directly from the bottle. I was in my mid-20s, living in a crappy basement suite, working my first real job. I think that is why this book made such an impression on me, containing as it does some of his speeches to young people. Vonnegut speaks about how to live life and this was information that I needed at the time. I fully believed him that loneliness and boredom would be the worst problems that I would face. I had enough experience in the work force at that point to make this argument meaningful.
I followed some of his Palm Sunday advice—cultivating my network of extended family. I got to know not only my first cousins, but second and third cousins and enjoyed spending time with them. I didn't leave things there, though. I joined societies devoted to various interests of mine and made good friends there. I volunteered and made more friends. I made sure that I had a busy and full life. Thank you Mr. Vonnegut. I can honestly say that I have rarely been lonely since I was 28, though I certainly enjoy a fair amount of solitude. I have rarely been bored.
Vonnegut shows us how the world could be improved by the application of compassion and kindness. He warns us that nothing is all good or all bad. There are plenty of gray areas and we should keep that in mind before getting all judgey. He reminds us of the value of the arts, whether you read, paint, sculpt, act, or indeed if you provide an audience for those who create. Kindness, companionship, creativity. These are the finest parts of life.
I vividly remember the first time I read this. I was sick as a dog with a horrible throat infection. I was reading Palm Sunday and swilling cough syrup directly from the bottle. I was in my mid-20s, living in a crappy basement suite, working my first real job. I think that is why this book made such an impression on me, containing as it does some of his speeches to young people. Vonnegut speaks about how to live life and this was information that I needed at the time. I fully believed him that loneliness and boredom would be the worst problems that I would face. I had enough experience in the work force at that point to make this argument meaningful.
I followed some of his Palm Sunday advice—cultivating my network of extended family. I got to know not only my first cousins, but second and third cousins and enjoyed spending time with them. I didn't leave things there, though. I joined societies devoted to various interests of mine and made good friends there. I volunteered and made more friends. I made sure that I had a busy and full life. Thank you Mr. Vonnegut. I can honestly say that I have rarely been lonely since I was 28, though I certainly enjoy a fair amount of solitude. I have rarely been bored.
Vonnegut shows us how the world could be improved by the application of compassion and kindness. He warns us that nothing is all good or all bad. There are plenty of gray areas and we should keep that in mind before getting all judgey. He reminds us of the value of the arts, whether you read, paint, sculpt, act, or indeed if you provide an audience for those who create. Kindness, companionship, creativity. These are the finest parts of life.
April 4, 2009
It's a little disingenuous to imply that I've read this, as I only hopped around a bit, but, as if there was any doubt that Vonnegut spitting on a napkin would be deserving of the full five stars, I'm giving it to this book on the strength of one piece alone: the 'self-interview,' which was (apparently) first printed in the Paris Review.
Let's take a minute to examine the brilliance of a self-interview. Oh, wait! We don't have to, because Kurt has gone ahead and examined it for us:
Sentences spoken by writers, unless they have been written out first, rarely say what writers wish to say. Writers are unlucky speakers, by and large, which accounts for their being in a profession which encourages them to stay at their desks for years, if necessary, pondering what to say next and how best to say it.... The only way to get anything out of a writer's brain is to leave him or her alone until her or she is damn well ready to write it down.
Genius! Want some more? Here's a bit from the interview itself:
INTERVIEWER: Did your sister try to write for money, too?
VONNEGUT: No. She could have been a remarkable sculptor, too. I bawled her out one time for not doing more with the talents she had. She replied that having talent doesn't carry with it the obligation that something has to be done with it. This was startling news to me. I thought people were supposed to grab their talents and run as far and fast as they could.
INTERVIEWER: What do you think now?
VONNEGUT: Well — what my sister said now seems a peculiarly feminine sort of wisdom. I have two daughters who are as talented as she was, and both of them are damned if they are going to lose their poise and senses of humor by snatching up their talents and desperately running as far and as fast as they can. They saw me run as far and as fast as I could – and it must have looked like quite a crazy performance to them. And this is the worst possible metaphor, for what they actually saw was a man sitting still for decades.
I hope you all find that as hilarious as I did. But anyway, it's just astoundingly beautiful, the whole interview. Vonnegut is such a genius dialogue-ist, and to watch him play around like this, asking himself questions and picking up on the subtext beneath the answers in order to ask slightly more probing questions, or even veering off into totally unexpected territory... Well really, it's just wonderful.
Let's take a minute to examine the brilliance of a self-interview. Oh, wait! We don't have to, because Kurt has gone ahead and examined it for us:
Sentences spoken by writers, unless they have been written out first, rarely say what writers wish to say. Writers are unlucky speakers, by and large, which accounts for their being in a profession which encourages them to stay at their desks for years, if necessary, pondering what to say next and how best to say it.... The only way to get anything out of a writer's brain is to leave him or her alone until her or she is damn well ready to write it down.
Genius! Want some more? Here's a bit from the interview itself:
INTERVIEWER: Did your sister try to write for money, too?
VONNEGUT: No. She could have been a remarkable sculptor, too. I bawled her out one time for not doing more with the talents she had. She replied that having talent doesn't carry with it the obligation that something has to be done with it. This was startling news to me. I thought people were supposed to grab their talents and run as far and fast as they could.
INTERVIEWER: What do you think now?
VONNEGUT: Well — what my sister said now seems a peculiarly feminine sort of wisdom. I have two daughters who are as talented as she was, and both of them are damned if they are going to lose their poise and senses of humor by snatching up their talents and desperately running as far and as fast as they can. They saw me run as far and as fast as I could – and it must have looked like quite a crazy performance to them. And this is the worst possible metaphor, for what they actually saw was a man sitting still for decades.
I hope you all find that as hilarious as I did. But anyway, it's just astoundingly beautiful, the whole interview. Vonnegut is such a genius dialogue-ist, and to watch him play around like this, asking himself questions and picking up on the subtext beneath the answers in order to ask slightly more probing questions, or even veering off into totally unexpected territory... Well really, it's just wonderful.
April 25, 2021
Медитацията е свята за мен, тъй като вярвам, че всички тайни на битието и небитието са някъде в главите ни… или в главите на другите.
Вярвам, че четенето и писането са най-полезните форми на медитация, открити някога.
Като четем произведенията на най-интересните умове в историята, ние медитираме с нашия ум и с техния.
За мен това е чудо.
Книгата-сборник завършва с реч/проповед/думи (понеже не харесвам "реч" и се чудя, коя дума е подходящата), която е бил поканен да държи/изнесе/представи в деня на Цветница през 1980г. в църквата „Сейнт Клемънтс“. Вонегът прави интересен прочит на последните дни на Христос. Всъщност тези последни дни на земята на "божия син" най-много го доближават до човешкия образ. И ако самият той не е художествена измислица съм склонен да си представям същото, за което пише Вонегът.
Хората не ходят на църква, за да слушат проповеди, а за да си мечтаят за Бог.
А сега, след като пораснах, книгите ми са такива — мозайки от шеги.
Възприемам този сборник от есета, писма, речи и т.н., като начин да се представи нещо автобиография във формата на "мозайка". Към тези автобиографични парчета са добавени един разказ и една негова пиеса, пиесата е ужасна - хич не ми хареса. И сега точно тук, веднага след мнението ми за пиесата, искам да кажа, че книгата-сборник като цяло много ми хареса. "Хареса", "не хареса" ..., на кой му дреме. Впрочем в книгата, Вонегът сам си е дал оценка 4 от 6, аз пък ще му дам 4 от 5. Стига толкова.
П.П. Може да си хванете прекрасни цитати от книгата, аз поне винаги се възползвам, когато има такава възможност.
Вярвам, че четенето и писането са най-полезните форми на медитация, открити някога.
Като четем произведенията на най-интересните умове в историята, ние медитираме с нашия ум и с техния.
За мен това е чудо.
Книгата-сборник завършва с реч/проповед/думи (понеже не харесвам "реч" и се чудя, коя дума е подходящата), която е бил поканен да държи/изнесе/представи в деня на Цветница през 1980г. в църквата „Сейнт Клемънтс“. Вонегът прави интересен прочит на последните дни на Христос. Всъщност тези последни дни на земята на "божия син" най-много го доближават до човешкия образ. И ако самият той не е художествена измислица съм склонен да си представям същото, за което пише Вонегът.
Хората не ходят на църква, за да слушат проповеди, а за да си мечтаят за Бог.
А сега, след като пораснах, книгите ми са такива — мозайки от шеги.
Възприемам този сборник от есета, писма, речи и т.н., като начин да се представи нещо автобиография във формата на "мозайка". Към тези автобиографични парчета са добавени един разказ и една негова пиеса, пиесата е ужасна - хич не ми хареса. И сега точно тук, веднага след мнението ми за пиесата, искам да кажа, че книгата-сборник като цяло много ми хареса. "Хареса", "не хареса" ..., на кой му дреме. Впрочем в книгата, Вонегът сам си е дал оценка 4 от 6, аз пък ще му дам 4 от 5. Стига толкова.
П.П. Може да си хванете прекрасни цитати от книгата, аз поне винаги се възползвам, когато има такава възможност.
June 23, 2022
I love Kurt Vonnegut's writing but this book --not so much. It is a collection of speeches, letters, book reviews, and even a dramatic piece that the author wrote over time and now presents in a single volume.
Particularly interesting were the autobiographical sections, giving a sliver of insight into his personal world. I know almost nothing about his life so this book gave me a sample, a taste if you will, or his self-perceived passions and shortcomings.
Yet overall the books is rather 'blah' from a literary point of view. I would recommend it only to die-hard fans.
Particularly interesting were the autobiographical sections, giving a sliver of insight into his personal world. I know almost nothing about his life so this book gave me a sample, a taste if you will, or his self-perceived passions and shortcomings.
Yet overall the books is rather 'blah' from a literary point of view. I would recommend it only to die-hard fans.
May 10, 2019
This is Vonnegut at his nonfiction best. As much as I liked A Man Without a Country, I think this was superior. Among the highlights for me were his thoughts back when he was a writing teacher, the self interview he did for the Paris review, his family's thoughts on his writing, and the impact that the Dresdon fire bombing that he wrote about in Slaughterhouse 5 had on him throughout his life. Much of the book is classic Vonnegut in the fact that it is humorous and pessimistic, but there are also plenty of touching parts where you feel like you are actually getting to know the man behind the sarcasm and wit.
February 6, 2017
You know how sometimes you get home from work too tired to cook so you throw open the fridge and pull out all the leftovers? That is this book. It's a smorgasbord of family history, speeches, observations, and work rejected for publication elsewhere. Some of it is edible, some even enjoyable, but a few dishes should have been thrown away months ago, before they sprouted legs and eyes.
So it goes.
So it goes.
April 22, 2021
Живота на всеки човек е хаос от факти. Когато си продуктивен писател като Вонегът, тези факти много са често в писмен ��ид - статии, речи, романи, разкази, интервюта. “Цветница” е колаж от такива факти. Възможен авто портрет на Кърт Вонегът. Много ме забавляваше. Нямаше претенция. Имаше прости думи, кратки изречения, вулгарни шеги, невинни самопризнания - всичко, от което има нужда великата литература. Искам още.
August 5, 2025
Speeches, essays, book reviews & funny tidbits. Getting a peek into Kurt Vonneguts brain and family history soothed my nosy need to know everything about him. Interesting, funny & sometimes boring. My highlight was reading Vonnegut’s thoughts on book banning, I find it ironic considering those very same books are still getting banned in certain countries…
January 6, 2008
I loved every word of this book, and I plan to reread it. It isn't really a memoir in the traditional sense of offering an autobio, but some important parts of V's bio do stand out as he talks about the world and what human beings are doing with it. V is irreverent as always, hilariously so, and extremely political, as always, and supremely ethical... and all of this while making me laugh. I really loved the way that he talks about the craft of writing, sort of giving notes as he goes along about what a writer is and does, and what function literature can have. In that sense, his book really is a memoir, as he contextualizes narrative fragments that he has written while on his life journey: his personal experience of having survived the US fire-bombing of Dresden and having been assigned the task of disposing of the dead, an experience that he uses as the referent for his acclaimed novel Slaughter House Five; wildly satiric graduation speeches that made me laugh my butt off thinking about the looks on the faces of the parents and families all dressed up for their son/daughter's big day; eulogies for lost friends, letters to newspapers, to small towns in the heartland who felt it wise to burn V's books lest they corrupt the minds of our youth, etc etc etc. Another book that lifts my heart and tempts me to believe that there's something worth struggling for on this planet and that human beings just might have something important to offer in the quest to treat the world and the people in it as if all of this mattered.
August 13, 2025
thus ends my 2025 goal to read every Kurt Vonnegut novel, plus two extra credit essay collections — Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons and Palm Sunday. I wanted to save this one for last specifically so that I can give all of what I’ve read letter grades, just as Kurt himself does here with what he had written to this point. I’ll also rate the ones he hadn’t written at this point for the hell of it.
title • KV grade • my grade
Player Piano • B • D
The Sirens of Titan • A • B+
Mother Night • A • A
Cat’s Cradle • A+ • A
God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater • A • B
Slaughterhouse-Five • A+ • A
Welcome to the Monkey House • B- • B
Happy Birthday, Wanda June • D • C
Breakfast of Champions • C • A
Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons • C • B+
Slapstick • D • D+
Jailbird • A • B-
Palm Sunday • C • C+
Deadeye Dick • A+
Galápagos • B
Bluebeard • A-
Hocus Pocus • A
Timequake • A-
So, I mostly agree with Kurt, just a couple of quibbles. Can’t believe he had Player Piano so high and BoC so low!
title • KV grade • my grade
Player Piano • B • D
The Sirens of Titan • A • B+
Mother Night • A • A
Cat’s Cradle • A+ • A
God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater • A • B
Slaughterhouse-Five • A+ • A
Welcome to the Monkey House • B- • B
Happy Birthday, Wanda June • D • C
Breakfast of Champions • C • A
Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons • C • B+
Slapstick • D • D+
Jailbird • A • B-
Palm Sunday • C • C+
Deadeye Dick • A+
Galápagos • B
Bluebeard • A-
Hocus Pocus • A
Timequake • A-
So, I mostly agree with Kurt, just a couple of quibbles. Can’t believe he had Player Piano so high and BoC so low!
February 17, 2021
Palm Sunday is a mediocre hodgepodge of previously unpublished, or underpublished, material by Kurt Vonnegut that has been forced into the shape of an autobiography. There are clever bits here and there, a few funny passages, and some interesting insights into what went on in Vonnegut's mind, but a lot of it seems second rate. The long excerpt from his family history at the beginning is extremely boring, and much of what remains had me thinking, "He has said this better elsewhere." If you love Vonnegut, if you are a Vonnegut completist, then by all means read this. It's not terrible, but his novels are better (at least the ones I've read).
February 6, 2017
"Laughs are exactly as honorable as tears."
This nonfiction collection is a mishmash of speeches, essays, interviews, and family history with a healthy dose of his inherited "heart-felt moral code." A must-read for KV fans.
I love his nonfiction because it's very conversational. If I could have dinner with an author, dead or alive, I would certainly choose him.
This nonfiction collection is a mishmash of speeches, essays, interviews, and family history with a healthy dose of his inherited "heart-felt moral code." A must-read for KV fans.
I love his nonfiction because it's very conversational. If I could have dinner with an author, dead or alive, I would certainly choose him.
August 9, 2020
A very uneven, sometimes witty, sometimes interesting, sometimes dull collection of short stories, speeches, essays, letters, and other previously unpublished works. I enjoyed ‘Self-interview’, his teaching experiences and a couple of his book reviews. Vonnegut fans should find this book an interesting read.
I prefer the book edited by Wakefield, titled, ‘Letters’ by Kurt Vonnegut, published in 2012. This book provides a good review of Vonnegut’s life, his character, and what Vonnegut thought was important.
I prefer the book edited by Wakefield, titled, ‘Letters’ by Kurt Vonnegut, published in 2012. This book provides a good review of Vonnegut’s life, his character, and what Vonnegut thought was important.
February 16, 2016
"Palm Sunday" is a book that dedicated Vonnegut fans should read, but not the casual reader. I imagine they would not appreciate what Vonnegut is doing here. The book is subtitled an "autobiographical collage", and that is an apt description. It is nonfiction, with the exception of two short humorous creative pieces that Vonnegut throws in. It has hints at the bitterness that would come to swallow up Vonnegut's' later works, but it had not consumed him yet when he wrote "Palm Sunday".
One of the most interesting aspects of the text is when Vonnegut lies about himself. For instance, he states that there were no other women involved in the breakup of his first marriage, and this is patently untrue. I love that aspect of this book, seeing how Vonnegut selects bits of autobiography to make himself look good. It makes him seem so human. He probably needed to believe a lot of good things about himself during the time he wrote this. His last novel had been roundly trashed by critics, and a lot of personal family junk had broken apart all over his head. I think most of us would have cleaned up our past a little if we could have, and Vonnegut's humanity is what has always drawn me to him and his writing.
Any avid reader will enjoy the opening chapter of "Palm Sunday" which deals with the first amendment and censorship. Vonnegut is at his biting and indignant best in this chapter. Chapter four of the text also includes a lovely essay on literary style. It is a profound and simple statement on what makes the best writing, which does not have to be "literature", but just the stuff we scribble in our everyday lives. It is the act of communicating with each other that powers the soul and Vonnegut is eloquent in his defense of it.
Another highlight of the book is a speech that Vonnegut gave called "The Noodle Factory". It is on pages 144-150 of the text and it is about reading, imagination, and the divine gifts they give. It is excellent writing, and is appropriate reading for the ages. Mankind should constantly be reminded of the ideas Vonnegut brings up so eloquently in this speech.
Some of the essays in this book are a little dated, it was published in 1981. However, the themes of human dignity and loneliness (Vonnegut staples) are brought up in essays and speeches all throughout the text, and those subjects are timeless.
The title "Palm Sunday" came from a sermon Vonnegut delivered at a church on Palm Sunday. It is an interesting piece to read from a self professed "Christ worshiping agnostic" and is the last chapter of the text. In the sermon he hits up his plea for human mercy and dignity and it is a nice way to end the book.
One of the most interesting aspects of the text is when Vonnegut lies about himself. For instance, he states that there were no other women involved in the breakup of his first marriage, and this is patently untrue. I love that aspect of this book, seeing how Vonnegut selects bits of autobiography to make himself look good. It makes him seem so human. He probably needed to believe a lot of good things about himself during the time he wrote this. His last novel had been roundly trashed by critics, and a lot of personal family junk had broken apart all over his head. I think most of us would have cleaned up our past a little if we could have, and Vonnegut's humanity is what has always drawn me to him and his writing.
Any avid reader will enjoy the opening chapter of "Palm Sunday" which deals with the first amendment and censorship. Vonnegut is at his biting and indignant best in this chapter. Chapter four of the text also includes a lovely essay on literary style. It is a profound and simple statement on what makes the best writing, which does not have to be "literature", but just the stuff we scribble in our everyday lives. It is the act of communicating with each other that powers the soul and Vonnegut is eloquent in his defense of it.
Another highlight of the book is a speech that Vonnegut gave called "The Noodle Factory". It is on pages 144-150 of the text and it is about reading, imagination, and the divine gifts they give. It is excellent writing, and is appropriate reading for the ages. Mankind should constantly be reminded of the ideas Vonnegut brings up so eloquently in this speech.
Some of the essays in this book are a little dated, it was published in 1981. However, the themes of human dignity and loneliness (Vonnegut staples) are brought up in essays and speeches all throughout the text, and those subjects are timeless.
The title "Palm Sunday" came from a sermon Vonnegut delivered at a church on Palm Sunday. It is an interesting piece to read from a self professed "Christ worshiping agnostic" and is the last chapter of the text. In the sermon he hits up his plea for human mercy and dignity and it is a nice way to end the book.
January 15, 2012
The sequel to the bestselling smash Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons contains an unholy amount of Vonnegut’s semi-profound public speeches (semi-profound as a good thing), hewn together with a great deal of amiable rambling and autobiographical detail. For a thorough account of Vonnegut’s impressive lineage—descended from prosperous Germans, no less—and illuminating accounts of his early life (far less torturous than the gloss he gives in some of his prefaces), this is an indispensable collection. A self-interview, as quoted in Oriana’s review, and several contentious digressions about the writer’s life are of interest to eager MFA students who want to slurp up his brilliance, and for anyone less who can listen to Vonnegut lovingly for hours and months and years. (Me). On a less interesting note, I read this book entirely on a Sunday. Next up, John Barth’s The Friday Book entirely on a Friday. Go tedious conformism!
November 13, 2017
Reading Vonnegut is such a rewarding experience. It's also such an easy one, his words flow with such ease - as if he is in the room and addressing you alone.
I enjoyed this, but I so longed for it to be a story, for the appearance of Trout or Pilgrim - or even Hoover. I miss Mr Vonnegut.
God Bless You.
And so he went.
I enjoyed this, but I so longed for it to be a story, for the appearance of Trout or Pilgrim - or even Hoover. I miss Mr Vonnegut.
God Bless You.
And so he went.
March 2, 2008
In 1980, Vonnegut collected various speeches, reviews and letters he'd written and added commentary. The result was the book PALM SUNDAY.
I've always thought Vonnegut was somewhat sloppy, but, reading PALM SUNDAY made it clear to me that Vonnegut's sloppiness is part of a method. He was actually a writer of tremendous rigor.
He even points out that his repetition of the phrase "And so it goes" is his version of Celine's use of ellipses.
PALM SUNDAY is more interesting to me than Vonnegut's novels, because he gets directly to the things I like to hear him talk about: Man's inhumanity to man, man's strangeness, the plight of the individual.
If you've ever tried to write fiction, PALM SUNDAY has, throughout, some very serious and practical advice. If you've ever wondered what an established writer goes through, there's a letter here addressed to a school which burns Vonnegut's books. If you're interested in the World War Two generation, read Vonnegut's account of the bombing of Dresden. He was an American soldier captured by the Germans. He and his fellow prisoners were sent down to the basement of a slaughterhouse. When they came back up, the city which was there when they went downstairs was gone. So, he'd survived, as a prisoner, the complete destruction, by his compatriots, of a city of the enemy. His novel about this, SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE, has a science-fiction element because that's the only way Kurt Vonnegut could translate the experience into art. PALM SUNDAY refers intermittently to the bombing of Dresden.
Vonnegut was not sloppy. He kept his sanity by writing. He points this fact out several times. He earned the right to point it out over and over again.
Also included in this book is a history of his family written by a friend of his parents. Vonnegut comments on it, but it, in itself, sheds much light on Vonnegut's background, and does it with a touch of pathos.
Vonnegut comments on many of the notable literary figures of the day. His essay of William F. Buckley, Jr., while acknowledging the total political differences between Vonnegut and Buckley, nevertheless, captures Buckley as well as any description has. Buckley died a few days ago. Vonnegut died about half a year ago. Also here is Vonnegut's truly deep, masterful review of Joseph Heller's SOMETHING HAPPENED, which appeared in THE NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW. It's an example of Vonnegut stepping outside of himself and communicating another writer's message. Heller and Vonnegut were friends, and I gather Vonnegut wanted to summon up all his powers in the writing of that review. I read that review when it was printed, in 1974, and it has stayed in my mind ever since. I remember it more clearly than many of the novels by Vonnegut which I've read. And I love his novels.
I learned a few things from PALM SUNDAY, and I hope the fact that I learned these things might cause you to seek this book out:
Vonnegut's home city, Indianapolis, had its center gutted when Vonnegut was in middle age. Many of the buildings torn down had been designed by members of his family.
Vonnegut called Mark Twain an "American Saint."
Vonnegut was descended from Free-Thinkers. His religious skepticism was, therefore, inherited. When invited to preach -- yes -- one Palm Sunday at St. Clement's Episcopal Church in New York, he accepted, and, in his sermon, referred to himself as a "Christ-worshiping agnostic."
He didn't like movies.
He said this:
"Some people say that my friend Gore Vidal, who once suggested in an interview that I was the worst writer in the United States, is witty. I myself think he wants an awful lot of credit for wearing a three-piece suit."
Three more reasons to read this book are the self-interview, the send-up of Depression-era musicals and the general sense given of a man talking directly to anybody reading.
I've always thought Vonnegut was somewhat sloppy, but, reading PALM SUNDAY made it clear to me that Vonnegut's sloppiness is part of a method. He was actually a writer of tremendous rigor.
He even points out that his repetition of the phrase "And so it goes" is his version of Celine's use of ellipses.
PALM SUNDAY is more interesting to me than Vonnegut's novels, because he gets directly to the things I like to hear him talk about: Man's inhumanity to man, man's strangeness, the plight of the individual.
If you've ever tried to write fiction, PALM SUNDAY has, throughout, some very serious and practical advice. If you've ever wondered what an established writer goes through, there's a letter here addressed to a school which burns Vonnegut's books. If you're interested in the World War Two generation, read Vonnegut's account of the bombing of Dresden. He was an American soldier captured by the Germans. He and his fellow prisoners were sent down to the basement of a slaughterhouse. When they came back up, the city which was there when they went downstairs was gone. So, he'd survived, as a prisoner, the complete destruction, by his compatriots, of a city of the enemy. His novel about this, SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE, has a science-fiction element because that's the only way Kurt Vonnegut could translate the experience into art. PALM SUNDAY refers intermittently to the bombing of Dresden.
Vonnegut was not sloppy. He kept his sanity by writing. He points this fact out several times. He earned the right to point it out over and over again.
Also included in this book is a history of his family written by a friend of his parents. Vonnegut comments on it, but it, in itself, sheds much light on Vonnegut's background, and does it with a touch of pathos.
Vonnegut comments on many of the notable literary figures of the day. His essay of William F. Buckley, Jr., while acknowledging the total political differences between Vonnegut and Buckley, nevertheless, captures Buckley as well as any description has. Buckley died a few days ago. Vonnegut died about half a year ago. Also here is Vonnegut's truly deep, masterful review of Joseph Heller's SOMETHING HAPPENED, which appeared in THE NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW. It's an example of Vonnegut stepping outside of himself and communicating another writer's message. Heller and Vonnegut were friends, and I gather Vonnegut wanted to summon up all his powers in the writing of that review. I read that review when it was printed, in 1974, and it has stayed in my mind ever since. I remember it more clearly than many of the novels by Vonnegut which I've read. And I love his novels.
I learned a few things from PALM SUNDAY, and I hope the fact that I learned these things might cause you to seek this book out:
Vonnegut's home city, Indianapolis, had its center gutted when Vonnegut was in middle age. Many of the buildings torn down had been designed by members of his family.
Vonnegut called Mark Twain an "American Saint."
Vonnegut was descended from Free-Thinkers. His religious skepticism was, therefore, inherited. When invited to preach -- yes -- one Palm Sunday at St. Clement's Episcopal Church in New York, he accepted, and, in his sermon, referred to himself as a "Christ-worshiping agnostic."
He didn't like movies.
He said this:
"Some people say that my friend Gore Vidal, who once suggested in an interview that I was the worst writer in the United States, is witty. I myself think he wants an awful lot of credit for wearing a three-piece suit."
Three more reasons to read this book are the self-interview, the send-up of Depression-era musicals and the general sense given of a man talking directly to anybody reading.
June 14, 2023
This book is about Kurt Vonnegut. It’s all about Kurt. It is a Kurt deep cut. You will learn everything about Kurt. Probably a little too much. There’s not much of a plot or themes. Only Kurt. Maybe that’s cool: Kurt is the narrative.
It can be boring sometimes. I didn’t really need a whole chapter on the Vonnegut family history, but it’s here. I now know a lot about Germans and Indianapolis. Reading speeches isn’t always fun either, and that’s mainly what this book is. But Kurt is still a very good writer, so there’s plenty of fun and cool ideas to find here.
There’s not much else to say. In Kurt’s self-assessment, he gave this book a C. I feel like that might be a little harsh. Perhaps a B- might be more appropriate. There was a really funny Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde play in here, though. That part was good. Five stars for The Chemistry Professor.
I recommend this book to you if you are a chicken. You will get very good representation in here and not in the form of a nugget. What is sadness, even, to a chicken?
It can be boring sometimes. I didn’t really need a whole chapter on the Vonnegut family history, but it’s here. I now know a lot about Germans and Indianapolis. Reading speeches isn’t always fun either, and that’s mainly what this book is. But Kurt is still a very good writer, so there’s plenty of fun and cool ideas to find here.
There’s not much else to say. In Kurt’s self-assessment, he gave this book a C. I feel like that might be a little harsh. Perhaps a B- might be more appropriate. There was a really funny Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde play in here, though. That part was good. Five stars for The Chemistry Professor.
I recommend this book to you if you are a chicken. You will get very good representation in here and not in the form of a nugget. What is sadness, even, to a chicken?
March 30, 2025
So good. As if being in a time travelling conversation with a great writer, moving into the past and looking into Kurt Vonnegut’s vision of the future, which is our present.
Weltschmerz - a sort of sceptical and fatalistic contempt for life.
“I have travelled extensively in Concord” - Henry David Thoreau
“I am embarrassed. We are all embarrassed. We Americans have guided our destinies so clumsily, with all the world watching, that we must now protect ourselves against our own government and our own industries.
'Not to do so would be suicide. We have discovered a brand-new method for committing suicide - family style, Reverend Jim Jones style, and by the millions. What is the method? To say nothing and do nothing about what some of our businessmen and military men are doing with the most unstable substances and the most persistent poisons to be found anywhere in the universe.
'The people who play with such chemicals are so dumb!
'They are also vicious. How vicious it is of them to tell us as little as possible about the hideousness of nuclear weapons and power plants!”
“Are we foolish to be so elated by books in an age of movies d television? Not in the least, for our ability to read, when mbined with libraries like this one, makes us the freest of men and men - and children.”
“Live so that you can say to God on Judgment Day, I
was a very good person, even though I did not believe in you.”
“Be aware of this truth that the people on this earth could be joyous, if only they would live rationally and if they would contribute mutually to each other's welfare.
'This world is not a vale of sorrows if you will recognize discriminatingly what is truly excellent in it; and if you will avail yourself of it for mutual happiness and well-being.”- Clemens Vonnegut
““I am willing to drop the word religion, and substitute for it these three words: heartfelt moral code. We sure need such a thing, and it should be simple enough and reasonable enough for anyone to understand.
The trouble with so many of the moral codes we have inherited is that they are subject to so many interpretations.
We require specialists, historians and archaeologists and linguists and so on, to tell us where this or that idea may have come from, to suggest what this or that statement might actually mean. This is good news for hypocrites, who enjoy feeling pious, no matter what they do.”
“'As an ordinary person, appalled as I am by the speed with which we are wrecking our topsoil, our drinking water, and our atmosphere, I will suggest an idea about good and evil which might fit into a modern and simple moral code. Evil disgusts us. Good fills us with joy and brings a sparkle to our eyes. That much remains the same. Might we not go farther, though, and say that anything which wounds the planet is evil, and anything which preserves it or heals it is good?”
“"There is this drawback, though: If you give to that sort of a stranger the uncritical respect that you give to friends and relatives, you will also want to understand and help him.
There is no way to avoid this.
'Be warned: If you allow yourself to see dignity in some-one, you have doomed yourself to wanting to understand and help whoever it is.
'If you see dignity in anything, in fact - it doesn't have to be human - you will still want to understand it and help it.
Many people are now seeing dignity in the lower animals ind the plant world and waterfalls and deserts - and even in the entire planet and its atmosphere. And now they are helpless not to want to understand and to help those things.”
“It praised the themes of my early books, Player Piano, The Sirens of Titan, and Mother Night:'... anger at war and killing, at the void that technology is creating in contemporary life.'
“Nanette and Edith are both gifted artists. Both have found the life of an artist a lonely one. Edith has determined that loneliness is not too high a price to pay. Nanette is becoming a nurse who will make pictures for fun. And meanwhile the man-made weather of politics and economics and technology will blow them this way and that.”
HOW KURT VONNEGUT RATES HIS OWN BOOKS:
Player Piano, B
The Sirens of Titan, A
Mother Night, A
Cat's Cradle, A+
God Bless You, Mr Rosewater, A
Slaughterhouse-Five, A+
Welcome to the Monkey House, B-
Happy Birthday, Wanda June, D
Breakfast of Champions, C
Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons, C
Slapstick, D
Jailbird, A
Palm Sunday, C
What is it an artist does — a painter, a writer, a sculptor - ?' He already had an answer, which he had put down in the book he was writing, a book which would never be published. But he would not tell us what it was until the end of the hour, and he might discard it entirely if our answers to his question made more sense than his. This was a class composed entirely of veterans of the Second World War in the summertime. The class had been put together in order that we might continue to receive our living expenses from our government when most of the rest of the university was on vacation.
If any of us came up with good answers, I now have no idea what they might have been. His answer was this: "The artist says, "I can do very little about the chaos around me, but at least I can reduce to perfect order this square of canvas, this piece of paper, this chunk of stone." ›
Everybody knows that.
Most of my adult life has been spent in bringing to some kind of order sheets of paper eight and a half inches wide and eleven inches long. This severely limited activity has allowed me to ignore many a storm. It has also caused many of the worst storms I ignored. My mates have often been angered by how much attention I pay to paper and how little attention I pay to them.
I can only reply that the secret to success in every human endeavour is total concentration. Ask any great athlete.
To put it another way: Sometimes I don't consider myself very good at life, so I hide in my profession.
I know what Delilah really did to Samson to make him as weak as a baby. She didn't have to cut his hair off. All she had to do was break his concentration.”
Weltschmerz - a sort of sceptical and fatalistic contempt for life.
“I have travelled extensively in Concord” - Henry David Thoreau
“I am embarrassed. We are all embarrassed. We Americans have guided our destinies so clumsily, with all the world watching, that we must now protect ourselves against our own government and our own industries.
'Not to do so would be suicide. We have discovered a brand-new method for committing suicide - family style, Reverend Jim Jones style, and by the millions. What is the method? To say nothing and do nothing about what some of our businessmen and military men are doing with the most unstable substances and the most persistent poisons to be found anywhere in the universe.
'The people who play with such chemicals are so dumb!
'They are also vicious. How vicious it is of them to tell us as little as possible about the hideousness of nuclear weapons and power plants!”
“Are we foolish to be so elated by books in an age of movies d television? Not in the least, for our ability to read, when mbined with libraries like this one, makes us the freest of men and men - and children.”
“Live so that you can say to God on Judgment Day, I
was a very good person, even though I did not believe in you.”
“Be aware of this truth that the people on this earth could be joyous, if only they would live rationally and if they would contribute mutually to each other's welfare.
'This world is not a vale of sorrows if you will recognize discriminatingly what is truly excellent in it; and if you will avail yourself of it for mutual happiness and well-being.”- Clemens Vonnegut
““I am willing to drop the word religion, and substitute for it these three words: heartfelt moral code. We sure need such a thing, and it should be simple enough and reasonable enough for anyone to understand.
The trouble with so many of the moral codes we have inherited is that they are subject to so many interpretations.
We require specialists, historians and archaeologists and linguists and so on, to tell us where this or that idea may have come from, to suggest what this or that statement might actually mean. This is good news for hypocrites, who enjoy feeling pious, no matter what they do.”
“'As an ordinary person, appalled as I am by the speed with which we are wrecking our topsoil, our drinking water, and our atmosphere, I will suggest an idea about good and evil which might fit into a modern and simple moral code. Evil disgusts us. Good fills us with joy and brings a sparkle to our eyes. That much remains the same. Might we not go farther, though, and say that anything which wounds the planet is evil, and anything which preserves it or heals it is good?”
“"There is this drawback, though: If you give to that sort of a stranger the uncritical respect that you give to friends and relatives, you will also want to understand and help him.
There is no way to avoid this.
'Be warned: If you allow yourself to see dignity in some-one, you have doomed yourself to wanting to understand and help whoever it is.
'If you see dignity in anything, in fact - it doesn't have to be human - you will still want to understand it and help it.
Many people are now seeing dignity in the lower animals ind the plant world and waterfalls and deserts - and even in the entire planet and its atmosphere. And now they are helpless not to want to understand and to help those things.”
“It praised the themes of my early books, Player Piano, The Sirens of Titan, and Mother Night:'... anger at war and killing, at the void that technology is creating in contemporary life.'
“Nanette and Edith are both gifted artists. Both have found the life of an artist a lonely one. Edith has determined that loneliness is not too high a price to pay. Nanette is becoming a nurse who will make pictures for fun. And meanwhile the man-made weather of politics and economics and technology will blow them this way and that.”
HOW KURT VONNEGUT RATES HIS OWN BOOKS:
Player Piano, B
The Sirens of Titan, A
Mother Night, A
Cat's Cradle, A+
God Bless You, Mr Rosewater, A
Slaughterhouse-Five, A+
Welcome to the Monkey House, B-
Happy Birthday, Wanda June, D
Breakfast of Champions, C
Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons, C
Slapstick, D
Jailbird, A
Palm Sunday, C
What is it an artist does — a painter, a writer, a sculptor - ?' He already had an answer, which he had put down in the book he was writing, a book which would never be published. But he would not tell us what it was until the end of the hour, and he might discard it entirely if our answers to his question made more sense than his. This was a class composed entirely of veterans of the Second World War in the summertime. The class had been put together in order that we might continue to receive our living expenses from our government when most of the rest of the university was on vacation.
If any of us came up with good answers, I now have no idea what they might have been. His answer was this: "The artist says, "I can do very little about the chaos around me, but at least I can reduce to perfect order this square of canvas, this piece of paper, this chunk of stone." ›
Everybody knows that.
Most of my adult life has been spent in bringing to some kind of order sheets of paper eight and a half inches wide and eleven inches long. This severely limited activity has allowed me to ignore many a storm. It has also caused many of the worst storms I ignored. My mates have often been angered by how much attention I pay to paper and how little attention I pay to them.
I can only reply that the secret to success in every human endeavour is total concentration. Ask any great athlete.
To put it another way: Sometimes I don't consider myself very good at life, so I hide in my profession.
I know what Delilah really did to Samson to make him as weak as a baby. She didn't have to cut his hair off. All she had to do was break his concentration.”
November 3, 2022
kurt vonnegut was a god amongst men, although he would resent that sentiment entirely. i fiercely enjoy his non fiction work over his fiction, but his fiction is beloved too. he is sharp and observant and nearly carefree and funny (understatement)
i admit i did skip a chapter where he basically wrote an absurdist, fan-fiction-like version of Jekyll and Hyde.
Wise wise wise wise man
One of my favorite little quotes is when he grades his own works. Cat’s Cradle naturally gets the highest grade. Slapstick got a D, which I agree with.
Thanks, my guy
i admit i did skip a chapter where he basically wrote an absurdist, fan-fiction-like version of Jekyll and Hyde.
Wise wise wise wise man
One of my favorite little quotes is when he grades his own works. Cat’s Cradle naturally gets the highest grade. Slapstick got a D, which I agree with.
Thanks, my guy
June 19, 2024
“Laughs are exactly as honorable as tears…I myself choose to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward…”
January 14, 2017
"Цветница" би послужила за страхотно заключение на личността на Кърт Вонегът. Аз избрах да е моето въведение.
July 13, 2016
Vonnegut writes a hell of a blivit. This companion to 1974's "Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons" consists, like that earlier volume, largely of non-fiction in the form of essays, addresses, interviews, etc. And like its companion, it offers a wealth of insight into Vonnegut's fiction, with particular emphasis on autobiographical connections. You don't have to be a Vonnegut devotee, either, in order to enjoy "Palm Sunday," although his self-assessment of his novels (he assigns grades to each of them) is enlightening, even if you disagree with him. (Really? An "A" for "Jailbird?")
Among the highlights are his treatment for a musical based on "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," which is laugh-out-loud hilarious. Elsewhere, he demonstrates, strikingly, that the story arc of Cinderella matches that of the Bible. And his self-interview is priceless, classic Kurt.
If there is one prominent fault with this book, however, it's its length. The inclusion of a second-rate short story, an overly-long history of his family, and, arguably, one too many speeches, slows the pace. Although he might have shaved it down here and there to good effect, given his definition of a "blivit," perhaps there is some calculated (or at least knowing) poetic justice in overstuffing the front and back covers.
It is tempting to wonder how this book was viewed in light of his total output at the time it was first published, in 1981. He had, after all, released two weak novels in a row, and critics -- especially the hostile ones -- might have seen this as the fallback position of a writer well past his prime. It is interesting to note, in this regard, that "Palm Sunday" is replete with lamentations about his harsher critics, usually wrapped in a thin veneer of grudging humor. As it turned out, though, Vonnegut may have been down, but he was far from out.
Among the highlights are his treatment for a musical based on "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," which is laugh-out-loud hilarious. Elsewhere, he demonstrates, strikingly, that the story arc of Cinderella matches that of the Bible. And his self-interview is priceless, classic Kurt.
If there is one prominent fault with this book, however, it's its length. The inclusion of a second-rate short story, an overly-long history of his family, and, arguably, one too many speeches, slows the pace. Although he might have shaved it down here and there to good effect, given his definition of a "blivit," perhaps there is some calculated (or at least knowing) poetic justice in overstuffing the front and back covers.
It is tempting to wonder how this book was viewed in light of his total output at the time it was first published, in 1981. He had, after all, released two weak novels in a row, and critics -- especially the hostile ones -- might have seen this as the fallback position of a writer well past his prime. It is interesting to note, in this regard, that "Palm Sunday" is replete with lamentations about his harsher critics, usually wrapped in a thin veneer of grudging humor. As it turned out, though, Vonnegut may have been down, but he was far from out.
July 21, 2010
One of the things that I love about the Internet is that I can run across things that I wrote a while ago, read them, and be reminded of how dumb I can be. Kurt Vonnegut probably would have loved that too. But he's been stuck in the ground for a few years.
So it goes.
Sometimes I find something I like. When that happens, I realize that it lives there, on the Internet, and probably can't be converted to a piece of paper because it is an Internet creature. Unless one were to get a "Stuff White People Like" or "Shit My Dad Says" type book deal. Where do they hand those out?
But, I guess I should say a few words about the book I just read because that's what the computer tells me. Kurt (I feel entitled to call him that (what an * I am)) was a man that I respect. He was insanely clever and understood that everyone who ever lives is an * to some degree, but they just can't help it. They kill each other and they destroy the world, but some of them can make jazz music, and that has to count for something, right?
I will undoubtedly realize how dumb this comes across in a few days.
Thanks for the attention.
So it goes.
Sometimes I find something I like. When that happens, I realize that it lives there, on the Internet, and probably can't be converted to a piece of paper because it is an Internet creature. Unless one were to get a "Stuff White People Like" or "Shit My Dad Says" type book deal. Where do they hand those out?
But, I guess I should say a few words about the book I just read because that's what the computer tells me. Kurt (I feel entitled to call him that (what an * I am)) was a man that I respect. He was insanely clever and understood that everyone who ever lives is an * to some degree, but they just can't help it. They kill each other and they destroy the world, but some of them can make jazz music, and that has to count for something, right?
I will undoubtedly realize how dumb this comes across in a few days.
Thanks for the attention.
July 19, 2012
Vonnegut himself calls this book a "pastiche," a high-falutin' word I only learned last year in a grad course on contemporary American literature. It's a collection of stuff. Book reviews. Family history. A letter his daughter wrote in defense of a fellow waitress who was fired. Copies of speeches given on various occasions.
As a Vonnegut fan, I was intrigued by the opportunity to go through the book. It's Vonnegut unplugged--he provides his sardonic commentary, as applied to mostly real life events. Since I seem to be in the process of reading every book he wrote, it's worth reading to gain insight into his worldview, especially where religion, politics, family, and his German-American identity are involved. Some chapters are of greater interest to me than others. I guess that's what happens when you throw a bunch of things together, into one book. As a collective whole, they form something interesting. Piece by piece, a few things here and there are worth noticing, but the individual pieces of this collage can't all stand out at once.
As a Vonnegut fan, I was intrigued by the opportunity to go through the book. It's Vonnegut unplugged--he provides his sardonic commentary, as applied to mostly real life events. Since I seem to be in the process of reading every book he wrote, it's worth reading to gain insight into his worldview, especially where religion, politics, family, and his German-American identity are involved. Some chapters are of greater interest to me than others. I guess that's what happens when you throw a bunch of things together, into one book. As a collective whole, they form something interesting. Piece by piece, a few things here and there are worth noticing, but the individual pieces of this collage can't all stand out at once.
October 25, 2017
Good eulogy for Chicago tough-guy James T. Farrell, but why on earth was he sucking up to William F. Buckley? And what's with "my list of really cool celebrity friends?" How insecure was this guy anyway?
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