What do you think?
Rate this book
A Man Without a Country
A Man Without a Country is Kurt Vonnegut s hilariously funny and razor-sharp look at life ("If I die--God forbid--I would like to go to heaven to ask somebody in charge up there, Hey, what was the good news and what was the bad news?"), art ("To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it."), politics ("I asked former Yankees pitcher Jim Bouton what he thought of our great victory over Iraq and he said, Mohammed Ali versus Mr. Rogers. "), and the condition of the soul of America today ("What has happened to us?").
Based on short essays and speeches composed over the last five years and plentifully illustrated with artwork by the author throughout, A Man Without a Country gives us Vonnegut both speaking out with indignation and writing tenderly to his fellow Americans, sometimes joking, at other times hopeless, always searching.
Kurt Vonnegut is among the very few grandmasters of contemporary American letters, without whom the very term "American literature" would mean less than it does. His novels include Cat s Cradle and Slaughterhouse Five, among so many others. Projects with Seven Stories Press in recent years include God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian and, with Lee Stringer, Like Shaking Hands with God, a book about writing. His most recent novel is Timequake (1997).
3 pages, Audio CD
First published January 1, 2005
1008 people are currently reading
36326 people want to read
About the author
Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
710 books37k 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)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,875 reviews
July 7, 2008
On April 11, 2007 ,at around 6am, I awoke to NPR news announcing that Kurt Vonnegut had passed away.
Normally I would just go back to sleep, but I popped out of bed and went to my computer to confirm that it was really true (because you know how NPR gives false information all the time and shit).
Then my next thought was to go to Half Priced books and buy every Kurt Vonnegut book there.
So I set my alarm for 9am so I could make sure I was there when they opened the doors because I didn't want to have to wrestle anybody for those books. (Sometimes I am not always the most rational person)
I was lucky enough to find a 1st edition of this book.
That evening I read it and basically cried through the whole thing. I remember saying to my dad, while sucking back snot and tears, "There is no one else to replace him. Nobody thinks they way he did."
I wanted to take Kurt Vonnegut and package him up and preserve him forever. What can I say, I'm the Jeffrey Dahmer of the literature world.
But how selfish of me, right? The man was 84 for christ's sake.
This is probably the worst "review" ever, because it is not really a review.
Who am I to review Kurt Vonnegut?
I'm no one, just another mediocre mind in this world.
And all I know that a someone great is now gone.
Normally I would just go back to sleep, but I popped out of bed and went to my computer to confirm that it was really true (because you know how NPR gives false information all the time and shit).
Then my next thought was to go to Half Priced books and buy every Kurt Vonnegut book there.
So I set my alarm for 9am so I could make sure I was there when they opened the doors because I didn't want to have to wrestle anybody for those books. (Sometimes I am not always the most rational person)
I was lucky enough to find a 1st edition of this book.
That evening I read it and basically cried through the whole thing. I remember saying to my dad, while sucking back snot and tears, "There is no one else to replace him. Nobody thinks they way he did."
I wanted to take Kurt Vonnegut and package him up and preserve him forever. What can I say, I'm the Jeffrey Dahmer of the literature world.
But how selfish of me, right? The man was 84 for christ's sake.
This is probably the worst "review" ever, because it is not really a review.
Who am I to review Kurt Vonnegut?
I'm no one, just another mediocre mind in this world.
And all I know that a someone great is now gone.
December 11, 2020
“Many years ago I was so innocent I still considered it possible that we could become the humane and reasonable America so many members of my generation used to dream of."
Kurt Vonnegut's darkly twisted cantankerous humor mixed with genuine compassion for the human condition makes its way into A Man Without a Country. This book, apparently the closest thing to a memoir Vonnegut ever wrote, is a must read for Vonnegut fans (and I definitely count myself in that camp). Vonnegut has a way of looking at the world that is often quite rationale, but all the same surprising (and sometimes disturbing). This is a great start to Vonnegut's thinking or a great companion for those who have already read some of Vonnegut's classics like Cat's Cradle or Slaughterhouse Five.
Kurt Vonnegut's darkly twisted cantankerous humor mixed with genuine compassion for the human condition makes its way into A Man Without a Country. This book, apparently the closest thing to a memoir Vonnegut ever wrote, is a must read for Vonnegut fans (and I definitely count myself in that camp). Vonnegut has a way of looking at the world that is often quite rationale, but all the same surprising (and sometimes disturbing). This is a great start to Vonnegut's thinking or a great companion for those who have already read some of Vonnegut's classics like Cat's Cradle or Slaughterhouse Five.
May 29, 2017
A while back another writer, a reviewer, a critic, or whatever we are called, described a Kurt Vonnegut novel as another fun visit with Uncle Kurt. I really liked that description and have since plagiarized that avuncular idea to denote reading a Vonnegut book.
Like another of my favorites, Robert A. Heinlein, who has also been described as a crazy old uncle you run into at a reunion, Uncle Kurt can make you laugh, make you a little uncomfortable, and most of all make you think.
A Man Without A Country has been described as possibly the closest thing we Vonnegut fans may get to a memoir from him. Like all the rest it is filled with his unique perspective on the world and with maybe more acerbic wit and vitriol, and somewhat less playfulness, that can be remembered from most of his works.
Written in 2004, he did not like George Bush and was unabashedly opposed to the Iraqi invasion. He opined that like Mark Twain and Einstein before him, he had given up on humanity, that he had simply grown too grumpy to be funny anymore.
Let me respectfully disagree, I smiled throughout most of the short book (145 pages) laughed several times and almost fell out of my chair at his explanation as to why he did not win the Nobel Prize for Literature.
This latest visit with crazy Uncle Kurt was as fun as ever.
Like another of my favorites, Robert A. Heinlein, who has also been described as a crazy old uncle you run into at a reunion, Uncle Kurt can make you laugh, make you a little uncomfortable, and most of all make you think.
A Man Without A Country has been described as possibly the closest thing we Vonnegut fans may get to a memoir from him. Like all the rest it is filled with his unique perspective on the world and with maybe more acerbic wit and vitriol, and somewhat less playfulness, that can be remembered from most of his works.
Written in 2004, he did not like George Bush and was unabashedly opposed to the Iraqi invasion. He opined that like Mark Twain and Einstein before him, he had given up on humanity, that he had simply grown too grumpy to be funny anymore.
Let me respectfully disagree, I smiled throughout most of the short book (145 pages) laughed several times and almost fell out of my chair at his explanation as to why he did not win the Nobel Prize for Literature.
This latest visit with crazy Uncle Kurt was as fun as ever.
May 18, 2020
"Kurt is up in heaven now."
If you've read A Man Without a Country, you'll know I'm fulfilling a wish Kurt Vonnegut made in this book.
If you haven't read it, let me explain.
At a memorial service for the great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov, Kurt opened his tribute with the quip, "Isaac is up in heaven now".
This of course elicited many chuckles. Mr. Asimov was atheist and probably no one in this room of humanists believed in an afterlife, whether it be heaven, hell, reincarnation, or floating around haunting people and inspiring movies in which Whoopi Goldberg has to help a deceased Patrick Swayze reunite with his grieving love Demi Moore.
Recalling the laughter he evoked with his joke, Kurt wrote, "If I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, 'Kurt is up in heaven now.' That's my favorite joke".
And so there it is, Mr. Vonnegut. I have fulfilled your pre-dying wish. You can thank me when I too get to heaven.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
If you enjoy this sort of dry humor, you will appreciate this book. Mr. Vonnegut displays his gift of sarcasm throughout, which brought about many chuckles from me.
A Man Without a Country is a collection of essays Mr. Vonnegut wrote a couple years before he died. He deliberates on many things - art, technology, American "patriotism", socialism, sex, politics, and more.
It was interesting to note the criticism Mr. Vonnegut had of Bush, Cheney, and Co., and of their travesty of a war. His biting assessment makes one wonder what he would have had to say about the current administration had he lived long enough to see Agent Orange take control of the White House. His critique of the Bush administration seems almost excessive, when many of us actually feel nostalgia for the days when we had that goofy, grinning puppet in the Oval Office rather than the nefarious and dangerous fool who is there today.
Sadly, Mr. Vonnegut is no longer with us. If he is looking down from some heaven, we can only wonder what he would say about the current fiasco. Will someone please get Whoopi/Oda Mae Brown out of isolation? I'd love to hear Kurt's thoughts.
I leave you with a few quotes from the book:
"The America I loved still exists at the front desks of our public libraries."
To so-called patriots: "They don’t hate us for our purported liberty and justice for all. They hate us now for our arrogance."
On those in power:. "They aren’t really interested in saving lives. What matters to them is being listened to.... If there’s anything they hate, it’s a wise human." (And this was said during the Bush years. Again, imagine what he would have had to say today!)
On climate change: "It seems to me as if everyone is living as members of Alcoholics Anonymous do, day by day. And a few more days will be enough. I know of very few people who are dreaming of a world for their grandchildren."
On humanism: "We humanists try to behave as decently, as fairly, and as honorably as we can without any expectation of rewards or punishments in an afterlife."
On hypocrites:. "For some reason, the most vocal Christians among us never mention the Beatitudes. But, often with tears in their eyes, they demand that the Ten Commandments be posted in public buildings.... I haven’t heard one of them demand that the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes', be posted anywhere.
'Blessed are the merciful' in a courtroom? 'Blessed are the peacemakers' in the Pentagon? Give me a break!"
We lost this brilliant man too soon.
March 8, 2023
Kurt Vonnegut - the 'wise' uncle who tells stories that get you ready for life - one minute you are laughing...then BAM! - you are hit in the gut with philosophical punch. Great 'overview' of where we are at today. Really made me think of all the increasing polarization that is happening in politics all over the world - hauntingly timely.
December 15, 2016
"As long as there is a lower class. I am in it.
As long as there is a criminal element, I'm of it.
As long as there is a soul in prison, I am not free."
-- Eugene Debs, Quoted in Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country
We use humor to dull the pain. We use drugs too, but humor often costs less and last longer. I think one of the reasons I've been so drawn to Vonnegut the last couple weeks is our recent election. Vonnegut almost seems to be a Rosetta Stone for our times. He wrote this, his last book, in 2005. The subtitle of the book was A Memoir Of Life In George W Bush's America. It is both amazing and frightening to think that Dubya's America seems now, 11-years later, so tame and restrained compared to the circus that is slouching slowly towards DC.
Vonnegut, when I was young as impressionable made me unafraid to call myself a humanist (in my religious milieu a humanist is a dirty word... like socialist and feminist). His voice is often the voice I hear in response to news columns that are dumb, politicians that are corrupt, or corporations that seem unrepentant about their growing bottom line.
Like Mark Twain, Vonnegut appeals to the young and the sweaty masses while simultaneously ribbing them ever so gently. Hell, in that way Vonnegut and Twain were a bit like Jesus. I wonder what Vonnegut would think about that comparison? I wonder what Jesus would have thought? Perhaps, it is a bit early, but maybe a kid born in the last couple years will do for Vonnegut what Paul did for Jesus. Maybe in 200+ years there will be a Church where the Blues gets played and on certain Sundays people take turns reading from 'A Man Without a Country" and talking about the time when Vonnegut emerged "unstuck from time" from that tomb in Dresden.
F#%k and Amen.
As long as there is a criminal element, I'm of it.
As long as there is a soul in prison, I am not free."
-- Eugene Debs, Quoted in Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country
We use humor to dull the pain. We use drugs too, but humor often costs less and last longer. I think one of the reasons I've been so drawn to Vonnegut the last couple weeks is our recent election. Vonnegut almost seems to be a Rosetta Stone for our times. He wrote this, his last book, in 2005. The subtitle of the book was A Memoir Of Life In George W Bush's America. It is both amazing and frightening to think that Dubya's America seems now, 11-years later, so tame and restrained compared to the circus that is slouching slowly towards DC.
Vonnegut, when I was young as impressionable made me unafraid to call myself a humanist (in my religious milieu a humanist is a dirty word... like socialist and feminist). His voice is often the voice I hear in response to news columns that are dumb, politicians that are corrupt, or corporations that seem unrepentant about their growing bottom line.
Like Mark Twain, Vonnegut appeals to the young and the sweaty masses while simultaneously ribbing them ever so gently. Hell, in that way Vonnegut and Twain were a bit like Jesus. I wonder what Vonnegut would think about that comparison? I wonder what Jesus would have thought? Perhaps, it is a bit early, but maybe a kid born in the last couple years will do for Vonnegut what Paul did for Jesus. Maybe in 200+ years there will be a Church where the Blues gets played and on certain Sundays people take turns reading from 'A Man Without a Country" and talking about the time when Vonnegut emerged "unstuck from time" from that tomb in Dresden.
F#%k and Amen.
May 31, 2012
I think it's a rule that you have to quote Vonnegut if you review his work. I've been bad about it in the past, but this book is essentially just a quotable book. What better time to start. :)
Some of my favorite quotes from A Man Without a Country:
"Here is a lesson in creative writing. First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college."
"There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution, and I don't' know what can be done to fix it. This is it: Only nut cases want to be president."
"If you actually are an educated, thinking person, you will not be welcome in Washington DC." (About Bush I'm sure, but really applies in general)
"We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different."
"You know, the truth can be really powerful stuff. You're not expecting it."
"We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down."
This is one of my favorites that I come back to often. It's both humorous, but a very good and real summation of the arts and why it's important to keep creating:
"If you want to really hurt your parents, and you don't have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something." (emphasis added)
Some of my favorite quotes from A Man Without a Country:
"Here is a lesson in creative writing. First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college."
"There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution, and I don't' know what can be done to fix it. This is it: Only nut cases want to be president."
"If you actually are an educated, thinking person, you will not be welcome in Washington DC." (About Bush I'm sure, but really applies in general)
"We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different."
"You know, the truth can be really powerful stuff. You're not expecting it."
"We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down."
This is one of my favorites that I come back to often. It's both humorous, but a very good and real summation of the arts and why it's important to keep creating:
"If you want to really hurt your parents, and you don't have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something." (emphasis added)
May 30, 2013
And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say "Kurt is up in heaven now." That's my favorite joke.
In a country that gets its feathers ruffled beyond all rational allowance should one commit the hell-worthy trespass of bidding someone else of unknown spiritual beliefs an all-encompassing, meant-to-convey-well-wishings-without-presumption "Happy holidays" and thus betray one's role as a covert hippie cog in the heathen machine that's making a religious majority feel increasingly insecure about its apex-predator status, we have been blessed with the bastion of razor-sharp wit and level-headed wisdom of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., a man who knew that "[h]umor is a way of holding off how awful life can be, to protect yourself" and has offered shelter through laughter, however sardonic it may get, to anyone who's sought either full-on refuge or just a few hours of necessary escapism behind the shield of his words.
Ever since I picked up and tore through Slaughterhouse-Five much to my surprised delight, Vonnegut has held a special place in my terminally uncool, fiercely enthusiastic bookworm heart. I was not expecting masterfully balanced humor and heartbreak and a tale that positively trounced my initially wary approach in a matter of pages -- and KV has left me absolutely dazzled if not downright delighted time after time, book after book. I usually help myself to a few of his works every year, ever mindful that I don't want to gobble them up too quickly and be left with nothing until more posthumous releases make their way to publication (though it's not like Vonnegut was stingy with his output). I've been craving his words and particular perspective a bit more keenly than usual after having felt his influence practically radiate off the pages of George Saunders's own variations on black humor; this, rather than a novel, turned out to be exactly what I'd wanted.
What I got with this collection was what one back-cover blurb so correctly asserted to be "like sitting down on the couch for a long chat with an old friend." A Man Without a Country, published two years before Vonnegut's death, during what seemed an especially hopeless stretch of Dubbya's ill-gotten presidential stronghold, is nothing but a mosaic of the writer comprising a parade of varied but interlocking short essays. And even though it features the proclamation that Mr. Vonnegut had lost hope in humanity toward the end of his life, so much of what he put forth in these collected essays contradicted such an uncharacteristic statement from one of the most cautiously optimistic and darkly hilarious writers I've ever had the good fortune to know through his brainchildren.
This all-too-short collection -- equal parts biography, writing guide (complete with hand-drawn plot diagrams!) and celebration of creativity, no matter how ham-fisted, an On Writing of Kurt's own -- served as a spot-on capstone for the literary legacy he left behind, as Vonnegut intended it to be his last published work. Far from the cranky, doddering old man he could have become, the insights here betray the good-hearted core of an archly lucid humanist who has seen (and, indeed, lived through as a WWII soldier and POW) the worst his fellow Earthlings can do to each other but still sees a glimmer of hope for their future. He knows we've trashed the Good Mother and her finite resources all in the name of greed and getting from A to B in record time, that we've used our scientific advances for chiefly devastating effects rather than giant leaps toward good, that politicians are paving the way for a bleaker, more selfish way of life but zeros in on the saintly individuals ("By saints I mean people who behaved decently in a strikingly indecent society," he says) who've made the most of their stay on this hurdling blue marble to the betterment of their tiny but significant microcosm. There is hope in these unsung minor heroes and Vonnegut gives a voice to their songs, as there's no hope for the human species but for a few remarkable creatures who do everything they can to benefit whomever they can with whatever they've got.
Between a sci-fi moniker (a label not of the author's choosing, as discussed herein alongside his vaguely Luddite inklings) stemming from his seemingly outlandish visions of the future and his satirical but not caustically so lampooning of all the things wrong with our current society that very well could be handily laying the foundation for such oncoming terrors if we don't address the problems immediately, Vonnegut has left a giant, blinking neon sign pointing toward a better tomorrow for all who are brave and willing enough to downsize their egos to follow his lead. He's like the impatient but understanding grandfather we all so desperately need to point out our failings but follows up the well-meaning criticism with a cookie and hug, whose high standards but well-earned belly laugh make one want to live up to the good-of-us-all standards he has so thoughtfully set up for those who dare to take a gander at the blueprints.
I honestly don't know if the world is a better place since Vonnegut issued his last collection. I know it's a little more witless without him but I also know that, on a much smaller scale, I've been able to improve my staunchly pessimistic regard for my fellow two-legged beasts when I stop judging the whole and admire the day-to-day efforts of those individuals whose good intentions have them railing against the ugliness that could be so easy to submit to if not for their determination to keep fighting the good fight in the stead of greater minds who've fought before. A Man Without a Country is the rally cry for anyone who wants to prove that optimism isn't always a symptom of naïvety, that it's only by objectively understanding the bigger picture and your place in it that you can hold an educated opinion about how much better things can be and how we can slowly but steadily make it there.
God bless you, Mr. Vonnegut (and I hope you would have appreciated the joke, sir).
In a country that gets its feathers ruffled beyond all rational allowance should one commit the hell-worthy trespass of bidding someone else of unknown spiritual beliefs an all-encompassing, meant-to-convey-well-wishings-without-presumption "Happy holidays" and thus betray one's role as a covert hippie cog in the heathen machine that's making a religious majority feel increasingly insecure about its apex-predator status, we have been blessed with the bastion of razor-sharp wit and level-headed wisdom of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., a man who knew that "[h]umor is a way of holding off how awful life can be, to protect yourself" and has offered shelter through laughter, however sardonic it may get, to anyone who's sought either full-on refuge or just a few hours of necessary escapism behind the shield of his words.
Ever since I picked up and tore through Slaughterhouse-Five much to my surprised delight, Vonnegut has held a special place in my terminally uncool, fiercely enthusiastic bookworm heart. I was not expecting masterfully balanced humor and heartbreak and a tale that positively trounced my initially wary approach in a matter of pages -- and KV has left me absolutely dazzled if not downright delighted time after time, book after book. I usually help myself to a few of his works every year, ever mindful that I don't want to gobble them up too quickly and be left with nothing until more posthumous releases make their way to publication (though it's not like Vonnegut was stingy with his output). I've been craving his words and particular perspective a bit more keenly than usual after having felt his influence practically radiate off the pages of George Saunders's own variations on black humor; this, rather than a novel, turned out to be exactly what I'd wanted.
What I got with this collection was what one back-cover blurb so correctly asserted to be "like sitting down on the couch for a long chat with an old friend." A Man Without a Country, published two years before Vonnegut's death, during what seemed an especially hopeless stretch of Dubbya's ill-gotten presidential stronghold, is nothing but a mosaic of the writer comprising a parade of varied but interlocking short essays. And even though it features the proclamation that Mr. Vonnegut had lost hope in humanity toward the end of his life, so much of what he put forth in these collected essays contradicted such an uncharacteristic statement from one of the most cautiously optimistic and darkly hilarious writers I've ever had the good fortune to know through his brainchildren.
This all-too-short collection -- equal parts biography, writing guide (complete with hand-drawn plot diagrams!) and celebration of creativity, no matter how ham-fisted, an On Writing of Kurt's own -- served as a spot-on capstone for the literary legacy he left behind, as Vonnegut intended it to be his last published work. Far from the cranky, doddering old man he could have become, the insights here betray the good-hearted core of an archly lucid humanist who has seen (and, indeed, lived through as a WWII soldier and POW) the worst his fellow Earthlings can do to each other but still sees a glimmer of hope for their future. He knows we've trashed the Good Mother and her finite resources all in the name of greed and getting from A to B in record time, that we've used our scientific advances for chiefly devastating effects rather than giant leaps toward good, that politicians are paving the way for a bleaker, more selfish way of life but zeros in on the saintly individuals ("By saints I mean people who behaved decently in a strikingly indecent society," he says) who've made the most of their stay on this hurdling blue marble to the betterment of their tiny but significant microcosm. There is hope in these unsung minor heroes and Vonnegut gives a voice to their songs, as there's no hope for the human species but for a few remarkable creatures who do everything they can to benefit whomever they can with whatever they've got.
Between a sci-fi moniker (a label not of the author's choosing, as discussed herein alongside his vaguely Luddite inklings) stemming from his seemingly outlandish visions of the future and his satirical but not caustically so lampooning of all the things wrong with our current society that very well could be handily laying the foundation for such oncoming terrors if we don't address the problems immediately, Vonnegut has left a giant, blinking neon sign pointing toward a better tomorrow for all who are brave and willing enough to downsize their egos to follow his lead. He's like the impatient but understanding grandfather we all so desperately need to point out our failings but follows up the well-meaning criticism with a cookie and hug, whose high standards but well-earned belly laugh make one want to live up to the good-of-us-all standards he has so thoughtfully set up for those who dare to take a gander at the blueprints.
I honestly don't know if the world is a better place since Vonnegut issued his last collection. I know it's a little more witless without him but I also know that, on a much smaller scale, I've been able to improve my staunchly pessimistic regard for my fellow two-legged beasts when I stop judging the whole and admire the day-to-day efforts of those individuals whose good intentions have them railing against the ugliness that could be so easy to submit to if not for their determination to keep fighting the good fight in the stead of greater minds who've fought before. A Man Without a Country is the rally cry for anyone who wants to prove that optimism isn't always a symptom of naïvety, that it's only by objectively understanding the bigger picture and your place in it that you can hold an educated opinion about how much better things can be and how we can slowly but steadily make it there.
God bless you, Mr. Vonnegut (and I hope you would have appreciated the joke, sir).
February 3, 2016
من کورت ونه گات را دوست دارم
و با این حال با عرض شرمندگی هنووووز "سلاخ خانه ی شماره پنج" ش رو نخوندم
پ.ن: بالاخره خوندمش
این اثر، داستان نیست. گونه ای از بازگویی خاطرات نویسنده س به سبک غیرمعمول خاص خودش ولی بیشتر از خاطرات، طرزفکر ونه گات رو راجع به خیلی چیزها عیان می کنه. ونه گات مثل یه بابابزرگ پیر طناز دوست داشتنی تا دلتون بخواد به جون جرج بوش غر میزنه و به عنوان کهنه سربازی در جنگ جهانی دوم، سیاست های جنگ طلبانه و سلطه گرانه و دروغگوی امریکا رو زیر سوال می بره
( کتاب سال 2005 منتشر شد که همزمان با بحبوحه ی حمله ی امریکا به عراق برای یافتن سلاح های کشتارجمعی! بود)
انسان ها رو تا دلتون بخواد سرزنش می کنه که در فاصله ی زمانی کمتر از صدوپنجاه سال بعد از اختراع خودرو و هواپیما و ...، زمین تنها سیاره ی ممکن برای حیات و محیط زیست رو این طور به گند کشیدند. از تکنولوژی متنفره و در فصلی مبتکرانه لذت بیرون رفتن برای ارسال یک بسته پستی، راه همیشگی خودش، رو با انجام کار مشابه بوسیله ی کامپیوتر مقایسه می کنه و انصافن هم چیز خوشمزه ای در اومده
کتاب ، یک بخش جالب هم داره کلاس تخیلی آموزش داستان نویسی ونه گات که سیر داستانی کتاب های مختلف رو با رسم نمودار نشون میده
بخش نامه های مردم و جوابی که ونه گات براشون فرستاده بود هم خوب بود.در پایان هر قسمت، نویسنده جملات قصاری از بوکونون آورده.همون مدعی پیامبری و پیشگویی جهان در رمان گهواره ی گربه که کار جالبی بود
خلاصه این که هرچند ونه گات ادعا می کنه پیر شده و قدرت طنازیش رو از دست داده ولی این کتاب هنوز هم می تونه شما رو به فکر ببره و بخندونه
و با این حال با عرض شرمندگی هنووووز "سلاخ خانه ی شماره پنج" ش رو نخوندم
پ.ن: بالاخره خوندمش
این اثر، داستان نیست. گونه ای از بازگویی خاطرات نویسنده س به سبک غیرمعمول خاص خودش ولی بیشتر از خاطرات، طرزفکر ونه گات رو راجع به خیلی چیزها عیان می کنه. ونه گات مثل یه بابابزرگ پیر طناز دوست داشتنی تا دلتون بخواد به جون جرج بوش غر میزنه و به عنوان کهنه سربازی در جنگ جهانی دوم، سیاست های جنگ طلبانه و سلطه گرانه و دروغگوی امریکا رو زیر سوال می بره
( کتاب سال 2005 منتشر شد که همزمان با بحبوحه ی حمله ی امریکا به عراق برای یافتن سلاح های کشتارجمعی! بود)
انسان ها رو تا دلتون بخواد سرزنش می کنه که در فاصله ی زمانی کمتر از صدوپنجاه سال بعد از اختراع خودرو و هواپیما و ...، زمین تنها سیاره ی ممکن برای حیات و محیط زیست رو این طور به گند کشیدند. از تکنولوژی متنفره و در فصلی مبتکرانه لذت بیرون رفتن برای ارسال یک بسته پستی، راه همیشگی خودش، رو با انجام کار مشابه بوسیله ی کامپیوتر مقایسه می کنه و انصافن هم چیز خوشمزه ای در اومده
کتاب ، یک بخش جالب هم داره کلاس تخیلی آموزش داستان نویسی ونه گات که سیر داستانی کتاب های مختلف رو با رسم نمودار نشون میده
بخش نامه های مردم و جوابی که ونه گات براشون فرستاده بود هم خوب بود.در پایان هر قسمت، نویسنده جملات قصاری از بوکونون آورده.همون مدعی پیامبری و پیشگویی جهان در رمان گهواره ی گربه که کار جالبی بود
خلاصه این که هرچند ونه گات ادعا می کنه پیر شده و قدرت طنازیش رو از دست داده ولی این کتاب هنوز هم می تونه شما رو به فکر ببره و بخندونه
October 7, 2019
که را بیشتر دوست داری، بگو ای مرد راز آلود؟
پدر، مادر، خواهر یا برادرت؟
نه پدری دارم، نه مادری، نه خواهر، نه برادری.
دوستانت؟
واژه ای به کار بردید که تا امروز برایم گنگ مانده.
وطنت؟
نمی دانم جغرافیایش کجاست.
زیبایی؟
الهه و نامیرا چه دوستش می داشتم.
زر؟
بیزارم آنگونه که شما از خدایان.
دلبسته چیستی آخر ای بیگانه ی غریب؟
ابرها..ابرهایی که می گذرند، آن بالا، آن بالا...
ابرهای شگفت انگیز
شارل بودلر
پدر، مادر، خواهر یا برادرت؟
نه پدری دارم، نه مادری، نه خواهر، نه برادری.
دوستانت؟
واژه ای به کار بردید که تا امروز برایم گنگ مانده.
وطنت؟
نمی دانم جغرافیایش کجاست.
زیبایی؟
الهه و نامیرا چه دوستش می داشتم.
زر؟
بیزارم آنگونه که شما از خدایان.
دلبسته چیستی آخر ای بیگانه ی غریب؟
ابرها..ابرهایی که می گذرند، آن بالا، آن بالا...
ابرهای شگفت انگیز
شارل بودلر
February 1, 2023
A Man Without a Country is a collection of often very funny and angry essays about the state of the planet (and maybe particularly, the US) published in 2005, when Kurt Vonnegut was 83. Two years later he was dead. Vonnegut holds up Mark Twain as a fellow humorist who found a way to help us laugh through terrible world experiences, though acknowledging that even Twain wrote angrily about things in this country he could not possibly laugh at. Vonnegut writes about the purpose of humor, as a way of dealing with anxiety and fear, and helping people better face these emotions, and the world. He also identifies some things he cannot find a way to laugh much about, such as Bush and the invasion of Iraq. And the fact that Reagan and Bush play a misdirection game in creating anti-drug campaigns, when the drug the planet most craves is oil, which we all know very well is destroying life on this planet.
Vonnegut's political hero was the socialist Eugene Debs, whom he often writes about in these books, knowing political memory is short. But he sees no real hope for thinkers such as Debs to save the world. He thinks the rich, the corporations, the politicians know we are doomed and just don't care. So there is bleak honesty in this book I appreciate.
I miss Vonnegut, and other social satirists such Lenny Bruce and George Carlin, though thankfully, we have their books and appearances preserved on YouTube.
Vonnegut's political hero was the socialist Eugene Debs, whom he often writes about in these books, knowing political memory is short. But he sees no real hope for thinkers such as Debs to save the world. He thinks the rich, the corporations, the politicians know we are doomed and just don't care. So there is bleak honesty in this book I appreciate.
I miss Vonnegut, and other social satirists such Lenny Bruce and George Carlin, though thankfully, we have their books and appearances preserved on YouTube.
February 1, 2016
I have read much of Mr. Vonnegut's work over the years, and one of the things I always admired about him was how practical he was in what he said. He was an avowed socialist, while admitting that socialism has never worked, a professed crank, who saw the best in people, etc. I don't know what happened to that guy, but he was the not the guy who wrote this book.
"A Man without a Country" is so full of bitterness and bile that it clouds over some of the truly remarkable essays in this slim text. The book is formatted as a loosely connected batch of essays, and there are some that are vintage Vonnegut in their style and content. The essays "Here is a lesson in creative writing", and "I have been called a Luddite" being prime examples. They are enjoyable, insightful, and worth rereading and sharing.
But then the book takes a very bitter turn and never comes back from it. It appears that like his literary idol Mark Twain, Vonnegut became very disillusioned and hateful in his late life. What drew me to Vonnegut years ago was a recurring theme that appeared in so many of his works, the idea that we each have a duty to treat others respectfully and with kindness. Vonnegut himself even said in earlier works that "he never wrote heroes or villains". He knew that judgment was best left to others. But this book is hateful towards those whose political or philosophical views differ from Vonnegut. It is like seeing a person that you greatly admired being exposed as a fraud. Vonnegut (in this book, which is nonfiction) is mean spirited, and all of the things he spent so much time earlier in his life begging us all not to be.
Simply put, it makes me sad.
I have now read this text twice, about three years apart, and I won't waste the time (with the exceptions mentioned above) again. It depresses me, and distorts the view of Vonnegut I would rather maintain in my mind. Read his earlier works, especially the lovely "God Bless You Mr. Rosewater" and skip this one.
"A Man without a Country" is so full of bitterness and bile that it clouds over some of the truly remarkable essays in this slim text. The book is formatted as a loosely connected batch of essays, and there are some that are vintage Vonnegut in their style and content. The essays "Here is a lesson in creative writing", and "I have been called a Luddite" being prime examples. They are enjoyable, insightful, and worth rereading and sharing.
But then the book takes a very bitter turn and never comes back from it. It appears that like his literary idol Mark Twain, Vonnegut became very disillusioned and hateful in his late life. What drew me to Vonnegut years ago was a recurring theme that appeared in so many of his works, the idea that we each have a duty to treat others respectfully and with kindness. Vonnegut himself even said in earlier works that "he never wrote heroes or villains". He knew that judgment was best left to others. But this book is hateful towards those whose political or philosophical views differ from Vonnegut. It is like seeing a person that you greatly admired being exposed as a fraud. Vonnegut (in this book, which is nonfiction) is mean spirited, and all of the things he spent so much time earlier in his life begging us all not to be.
Simply put, it makes me sad.
I have now read this text twice, about three years apart, and I won't waste the time (with the exceptions mentioned above) again. It depresses me, and distorts the view of Vonnegut I would rather maintain in my mind. Read his earlier works, especially the lovely "God Bless You Mr. Rosewater" and skip this one.
October 29, 2021
The highest treason in the USA is to say Americans
are not loved, no matter where they are, no matter what
they are doing there.
Whilst his novels can be enjoyed by pretty much anybody, I think some of his non-fiction, especially here in these short autobiographical essays, with themes such as warmongering presidential administrations and corrupt profiteering, will cut deeper with Americans. But still, he is always such a pleasure to read, can be real funny, but always with that deeper, more serious message within, and it's no different here. And to think, had he been the oldest sibling of three he might not have graced up with his literary presence and slick comical satire at all.
"the youngest child in any family is always a jokemaker, because a joke is the only way he can enter into an adult conversation."
August 10, 2024
تروخدا وقتی شاد هستید، لطفا آن دم را دریابید و به هر شکلی که میتوانید، با صدای بلند یا زیر لب یا توی دلتان بگویید: اگه این قشنگ نیست پس چی قشنگه؟
چقدر چسبید
چقدر چسبید
March 26, 2020
I rarely read a book twice--there are just too many books to read in this world and not enough time to read them all. This is one of my exceptions, though, and I loved it even more the second time than the first. Vonnegut is incredibly interesting, down-to-earth, and funny as he goes on rants about America, people in general, and all the things he's seen during his life. Highly recommended for anyone who has ever read and enjoyed a book by Vonnegut, but also highly recommended for anyone who wants to see what living through something like the Dresden bombings does to your outlook on life.
Update: I just read this for the third time. Like Vonnegut, I feel like a man without a country. I wouldn't be surprised if I re-read this every four years to coincide with the election cycle, as I don't understand how people keep voting for the same nonsense election after election to ensure nothing ever changes. The fact that Vonnegut also didn't feel like he fit in with the country he once knew makes me wish he was still around so I could give him a hug.
Update: I just read this for the third time. Like Vonnegut, I feel like a man without a country. I wouldn't be surprised if I re-read this every four years to coincide with the election cycle, as I don't understand how people keep voting for the same nonsense election after election to ensure nothing ever changes. The fact that Vonnegut also didn't feel like he fit in with the country he once knew makes me wish he was still around so I could give him a hug.
March 2, 2017
مرد بي وطن
در كنار رمان هاي گوناگون، گاهي خواندن چنين كتاب هايي كه حاصل يك عمر تجربه ي مردي دنياديده است،بد نيست. مثل اين است كه به پاي حرف هاي پيرمردي بنشيني و اجازه بدهي هرچه ميخواهد از اين دنيا گله كند بلكه آرام شود. هميشه شنيدن ديدگاه سالخوردگان درباره ي حقيقت زندگي، جذاب است.
كورت ونه گات، اين آخر عمري خود را مردي بي وطن مي نامد. او بسيار شاكي است از سياست جنگ جوي آمريكا، مصرف بي رويه ي نفت، به گند كشيدن طبيعت و جو فضاي زمين، جنگ هاي پي در پي بر سر قدرت، سلاح هسته اي، نابغه هايي كه به جرگه ي كثيف دولت ميپيوندند و... حال در سنين پيري، در سرزميني كه برايش جنگيده احساس غربت ميكند.احساس بي وطني. حق هم دارد.
نويسنده وصيت ميكند كه اگر خداي ناكرده روزي مردم اين را روي سنگ قبرم بنويسيد:
"تنها دليل او
براي اثبات وجود خداوند
موسيقي بود."
البته ميگويد چيزي كه به زنده بودنش ارزش مي بخشد، سواي از موسيقي، قديساني است كه ملاقات كرده است و منظورش از قديس كسي است كه در اين جامعه ي فوق العاده ناشايست، به طرز شايسته اي رفتار ميكند.
طبق نظر ونه گات، اين طنزپرداز قهار، فكاهي راهي است براي مقاومت در برابر مشقات زندگي براي در امان ماندن از آن ها؛ اما آخر سر هم به ستوه مي آيي. ستوه از اين زندگي فلاكت بار. از اين روست كه اين روزها فكاهي، ناياب و كمدي پردازان هم جدي شده اند و كمتر خبري از شوخي و طنز است.
-به نظرت تو آدم با استعدادي هستي؟
+ نه، ولي تمام آثار هنري نشانگر مبارزه هنرمند است عليه محدوديت هاي خودش
در كنار رمان هاي گوناگون، گاهي خواندن چنين كتاب هايي كه حاصل يك عمر تجربه ي مردي دنياديده است،بد نيست. مثل اين است كه به پاي حرف هاي پيرمردي بنشيني و اجازه بدهي هرچه ميخواهد از اين دنيا گله كند بلكه آرام شود. هميشه شنيدن ديدگاه سالخوردگان درباره ي حقيقت زندگي، جذاب است.
كورت ونه گات، اين آخر عمري خود را مردي بي وطن مي نامد. او بسيار شاكي است از سياست جنگ جوي آمريكا، مصرف بي رويه ي نفت، به گند كشيدن طبيعت و جو فضاي زمين، جنگ هاي پي در پي بر سر قدرت، سلاح هسته اي، نابغه هايي كه به جرگه ي كثيف دولت ميپيوندند و... حال در سنين پيري، در سرزميني كه برايش جنگيده احساس غربت ميكند.احساس بي وطني. حق هم دارد.
نويسنده وصيت ميكند كه اگر خداي ناكرده روزي مردم اين را روي سنگ قبرم بنويسيد:
"تنها دليل او
براي اثبات وجود خداوند
موسيقي بود."
البته ميگويد چيزي كه به زنده بودنش ارزش مي بخشد، سواي از موسيقي، قديساني است كه ملاقات كرده است و منظورش از قديس كسي است كه در اين جامعه ي فوق العاده ناشايست، به طرز شايسته اي رفتار ميكند.
طبق نظر ونه گات، اين طنزپرداز قهار، فكاهي راهي است براي مقاومت در برابر مشقات زندگي براي در امان ماندن از آن ها؛ اما آخر سر هم به ستوه مي آيي. ستوه از اين زندگي فلاكت بار. از اين روست كه اين روزها فكاهي، ناياب و كمدي پردازان هم جدي شده اند و كمتر خبري از شوخي و طنز است.
-به نظرت تو آدم با استعدادي هستي؟
+ نه، ولي تمام آثار هنري نشانگر مبارزه هنرمند است عليه محدوديت هاي خودش
December 22, 2017
"But I am eighty-two. Thanks a lot, you dirty rats. The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick and Colon.”
Well, I wonder what thoughts mr. Vonnegut would have after last year's elections...
I don't want to review this book in detail - it's good, it's vonnegutian, it's funny and clever, and you should read it yourself, it'll take you a couple of hours, no more. And that was my only problem with this book - it was too short. :)
Well, I wonder what thoughts mr. Vonnegut would have after last year's elections...
I don't want to review this book in detail - it's good, it's vonnegutian, it's funny and clever, and you should read it yourself, it'll take you a couple of hours, no more. And that was my only problem with this book - it was too short. :)
November 11, 2025
Sejam pessoas sábias, independentemente de tudo. Salvem as nossas vidas e as vossas também. Sejam pessoas honradas.
De Kurt Vonnegut só li um conto, por sinal, bastante bom, mas claro que já ouvi falar das suas obras mais famosas e, no que toca à parte biográfica, sei que sobreviveu à catástrofe que foi o bombardeamento desumano da cidade de Dresden, onde estava na altura como prisioneiro de guerra. Uma experiência traumatizante da qual saiu decerto uma melhor pessoa, tendo-se tornado um pacifista, incapaz de sequer caçar e pescar.
E se eu morrer – Deus queira que não – gostaria de ir ao céu perguntar a alguém responsável lá em cima: “Afinal, quais eram as boas notícias e quais eram as más?”
“Um Homem sem Pátria”, escrito em 2005, dois anos antes da sua morte, mostra um homem de 85 com uma mente afiada como uma navalha e com uma consciência social, política e ambiental imaculada.
“Socialismo” não é uma palavra maléfica, não mais do que a palavra “cristianismo”. O socialismo não determinou Estaline, a sua polícia secreta e as suas igrejas entaipadas mais do que o cristianismo determinou a Inquisição Espanhola. Na verdade, tanto o cristianismo como o socialismo prescreveram uma sociedade dedicada ao princípio de que todos os homens, mulheres e crianças nascem iguais e não deverão passar fome.
Vivia-se o segundo mandato de George W. Bush, presidente que o autor abominava, ainda no rescaldo da Guerra do Golfo.
O problema é este: só os malucos querem ser presidente. Até no liceu era assim. Só as pessoas com distúrbios evidentes se candidatavam a chefes de turma.
Não viveu ele o suficiente para chegar ao chalupa actual, mas o diagnóstico não difere:
Mostramos agora ao mundo o semblante orgulhoso de fanáticos da guerra, de sorriso imbecil e queixo protuberante, sem dó nem piedade, mas com armas de potência aterrorizadora – às quais ninguém se opõe. Para o caso de não terem reparado, somos hoje tão temidos e detestados em todo o mundo como em tempos foram os nazis. E por boas razões.
Daí Vonnegut, que era presidente, mas apenas honorário, da Associação de Humanistas Americanos, se considerar um homem sem pátria.
Aqui há uns anos fizemos uma cerimónia dedicada à memória de Isaac [Asimov], e eu falei e a certa altura disse: “O Isaac agora está no céu.” Era a coisa mais engraçada que eu podia ter dito a uma plateia de humanistas. Fi-los rebolar pelo chão. Passaram vários minutos até que a ordem fosse restabelecida. E se eu morrer, Deus queira que não, espero que digam: “O Kurt agora está no céu”. É a minha anedota preferida.
Porque é de humor como ferramenta contra a insanidade face aos podres do mundo que esta obra autobiográfica fala.
O humor é uma maneira de mantermos à distância o horrível que a vida pode ser, uma maneira de nos protegermos. No fim, há um dia em que estamos simplesmente demasiado fartos, e as notícias são demasiado horríveis, e o humor deixava de funcionar.
O que nos conduz inevitavelmente à pergunta deontológica da praxe: quais são os limites do humor? Mais uma vez, não são os mesmos para todos.
Há coisas que não têm piada. Sou incapaz de imaginar um livro ou uma peça humorística sobre Auschwitz, por exemplo. E não consigo fazer uma graça com a morte de John F. Kennedy ou Martin Luther King. Fora isso não me lembro de nenhum assunto do qual me esquivasse, com o qual não pudesse fazer qualquer coisa. As catástrofes totais são extremamente divertidas, como demonstrou Voltaire. É verdade, o terramoto de Lisboa tem graça.
De Kurt Vonnegut só li um conto, por sinal, bastante bom, mas claro que já ouvi falar das suas obras mais famosas e, no que toca à parte biográfica, sei que sobreviveu à catástrofe que foi o bombardeamento desumano da cidade de Dresden, onde estava na altura como prisioneiro de guerra. Uma experiência traumatizante da qual saiu decerto uma melhor pessoa, tendo-se tornado um pacifista, incapaz de sequer caçar e pescar.
E se eu morrer – Deus queira que não – gostaria de ir ao céu perguntar a alguém responsável lá em cima: “Afinal, quais eram as boas notícias e quais eram as más?”
“Um Homem sem Pátria”, escrito em 2005, dois anos antes da sua morte, mostra um homem de 85 com uma mente afiada como uma navalha e com uma consciência social, política e ambiental imaculada.
“Socialismo” não é uma palavra maléfica, não mais do que a palavra “cristianismo”. O socialismo não determinou Estaline, a sua polícia secreta e as suas igrejas entaipadas mais do que o cristianismo determinou a Inquisição Espanhola. Na verdade, tanto o cristianismo como o socialismo prescreveram uma sociedade dedicada ao princípio de que todos os homens, mulheres e crianças nascem iguais e não deverão passar fome.
Vivia-se o segundo mandato de George W. Bush, presidente que o autor abominava, ainda no rescaldo da Guerra do Golfo.
O problema é este: só os malucos querem ser presidente. Até no liceu era assim. Só as pessoas com distúrbios evidentes se candidatavam a chefes de turma.
Não viveu ele o suficiente para chegar ao chalupa actual, mas o diagnóstico não difere:
Mostramos agora ao mundo o semblante orgulhoso de fanáticos da guerra, de sorriso imbecil e queixo protuberante, sem dó nem piedade, mas com armas de potência aterrorizadora – às quais ninguém se opõe. Para o caso de não terem reparado, somos hoje tão temidos e detestados em todo o mundo como em tempos foram os nazis. E por boas razões.
Daí Vonnegut, que era presidente, mas apenas honorário, da Associação de Humanistas Americanos, se considerar um homem sem pátria.
Aqui há uns anos fizemos uma cerimónia dedicada à memória de Isaac [Asimov], e eu falei e a certa altura disse: “O Isaac agora está no céu.” Era a coisa mais engraçada que eu podia ter dito a uma plateia de humanistas. Fi-los rebolar pelo chão. Passaram vários minutos até que a ordem fosse restabelecida. E se eu morrer, Deus queira que não, espero que digam: “O Kurt agora está no céu”. É a minha anedota preferida.
Porque é de humor como ferramenta contra a insanidade face aos podres do mundo que esta obra autobiográfica fala.
O humor é uma maneira de mantermos à distância o horrível que a vida pode ser, uma maneira de nos protegermos. No fim, há um dia em que estamos simplesmente demasiado fartos, e as notícias são demasiado horríveis, e o humor deixava de funcionar.
O que nos conduz inevitavelmente à pergunta deontológica da praxe: quais são os limites do humor? Mais uma vez, não são os mesmos para todos.
Há coisas que não têm piada. Sou incapaz de imaginar um livro ou uma peça humorística sobre Auschwitz, por exemplo. E não consigo fazer uma graça com a morte de John F. Kennedy ou Martin Luther King. Fora isso não me lembro de nenhum assunto do qual me esquivasse, com o qual não pudesse fazer qualquer coisa. As catástrofes totais são extremamente divertidas, como demonstrou Voltaire. É verdade, o terramoto de Lisboa tem graça.
May 12, 2024
Il commento che mi sento di condividere per questo libro è quello scritto dalla traduttrice, che riporto.
“Un uomo senza patria mi è sembrato un libro tanto piacevole da tradurre quanto lo è da leggere. La scrittura di questo ultimo Vonnegut è piana e scorrevole, tutta fatta di aforismi, brevi aneddoti, giudizi concisi e sagaci ( ma a volte pesantissimi) sull’America e sulla civiltà occidentale di oggi. La lingua non è quella di un ambizioso narratore postmoderno ma quella di un uomo anziano, saggio e lucidissimo con una sconfinata verve umoristica….
Ecco perché Un uomo senza patria è un gioiello di onestà e di vis polemica, che si legge - e si traduce- tutto d’un fiato, inseguendo con entusiasmo il filo dei pensieri di uno spirito libero che sembra non conoscere la pedanteria o la pretenziosità.”
“Un uomo senza patria mi è sembrato un libro tanto piacevole da tradurre quanto lo è da leggere. La scrittura di questo ultimo Vonnegut è piana e scorrevole, tutta fatta di aforismi, brevi aneddoti, giudizi concisi e sagaci ( ma a volte pesantissimi) sull’America e sulla civiltà occidentale di oggi. La lingua non è quella di un ambizioso narratore postmoderno ma quella di un uomo anziano, saggio e lucidissimo con una sconfinata verve umoristica….
Ecco perché Un uomo senza patria è un gioiello di onestà e di vis polemica, che si legge - e si traduce- tutto d’un fiato, inseguendo con entusiasmo il filo dei pensieri di uno spirito libero che sembra non conoscere la pedanteria o la pretenziosità.”
February 2, 2023
A Man Without a Country (2005) is Vonnegut’s last publication before he died (2007). It is a collection of introspective essays with a somewhat pessimistic eye toward the future of human civilization (if he was this distraught about 2005 imagine how he would have felt about 2016!). This short book might be the closest he ever came to gifting us an autobiography.
“If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
“If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”
October 20, 2016
ونه گات فوق العاده بود حسابی عاشقش شدم. تازه این کتاب مجموعه مقالاتش بود. همه نوشته ها رو دوست داشتم ولی می خوام این قسمتش همیشه یادم بمونه:
از همه شما که به سن و سال نوه هایم هستید عذر می خواهم. و خیلی از شماها که این کتاب را می خوانید احتمالا هم سن نوه هایم هستید. آن ها هم درست مثل شما، از طرف دولت و شرکت های دورانِ انفجارِ جمعیت، کلاه گشادی سرشان رفته و دروغ ها شنیده اند. بله، اوضاع این سیاره بدجوری آشفته شده. هرچند، همیشه آشفته بوده. هیچ وقت "روزهای خوش و خرم" به خود ندیده، فقط ایام را گذرانده. و من همیشه به نوه هایم می گویم " به من نگاه نکنید. من تازه به این جا رسیده ام."
کله پوک هایی هستند که می گویند آدم بزرگ نمی شود مگر آن که مثل خودشان از یک مصیبت بزرگ -مثلاً دوران رکود اقتصادی، جنگ جهانی دوم، جنگ ویتنام و این چیزها- جان سالم به در برده باشد. مسئول این داستانِ من درآوردیِ ویرانگر، داستان سراها هستند. بارها و بارها در قصه ها پس از مصیبت های اسف بار، شخصیت داستان سرانجام می گوید "حالا شدم یک زن واقعی. حالا شدم یک مرد واقعی. پایان"
عموی خوبی داشتم،عموی مرحومم آلکس. او برادر کوچیکه ی پدرم بود، بی اولاد و فارغ التحصیل هاروارد و در ایندیاناپولیس فروشنده آبرومند بیمه عمر بود. با معلومات و فهمیده بود. دلخوری عمده اش از آدم ها این بود که می گفت بیشتر مردم وقتی خوشحال اند خودشان حالی شان نیست. برای همین مثلاً وقتی در تابستان زیر درخت سیب لیموناد می نوشیدیم و خوش خوشک از این در و آن در می گفتیم، مثل زنبورعسل وزوز می کردیم، عمو آلکس یک دفعه رشته ی چرت و پرت های خوشایندمان را پاره می کرد و با صدای بلند می گفت "آخه اگه این قشنگ نیست، پس چی قشنگه؟"
حالا من هم همان کار را می کنم، بچه ها و نوه هایم هم همین طور. تروخدا وقتی شاد هستید، لطفاً آن دم را دریابید و به هر شکلی که می توانید، با صدای بلند یا زیر لب یا توی دلتان بگویید "اگه این قشنگ نیست، پس چی قشنگه؟" ک.و
از همه شما که به سن و سال نوه هایم هستید عذر می خواهم. و خیلی از شماها که این کتاب را می خوانید احتمالا هم سن نوه هایم هستید. آن ها هم درست مثل شما، از طرف دولت و شرکت های دورانِ انفجارِ جمعیت، کلاه گشادی سرشان رفته و دروغ ها شنیده اند. بله، اوضاع این سیاره بدجوری آشفته شده. هرچند، همیشه آشفته بوده. هیچ وقت "روزهای خوش و خرم" به خود ندیده، فقط ایام را گذرانده. و من همیشه به نوه هایم می گویم " به من نگاه نکنید. من تازه به این جا رسیده ام."
کله پوک هایی هستند که می گویند آدم بزرگ نمی شود مگر آن که مثل خودشان از یک مصیبت بزرگ -مثلاً دوران رکود اقتصادی، جنگ جهانی دوم، جنگ ویتنام و این چیزها- جان سالم به در برده باشد. مسئول این داستانِ من درآوردیِ ویرانگر، داستان سراها هستند. بارها و بارها در قصه ها پس از مصیبت های اسف بار، شخصیت داستان سرانجام می گوید "حالا شدم یک زن واقعی. حالا شدم یک مرد واقعی. پایان"
عموی خوبی داشتم،عموی مرحومم آلکس. او برادر کوچیکه ی پدرم بود، بی اولاد و فارغ التحصیل هاروارد و در ایندیاناپولیس فروشنده آبرومند بیمه عمر بود. با معلومات و فهمیده بود. دلخوری عمده اش از آدم ها این بود که می گفت بیشتر مردم وقتی خوشحال اند خودشان حالی شان نیست. برای همین مثلاً وقتی در تابستان زیر درخت سیب لیموناد می نوشیدیم و خوش خوشک از این در و آن در می گفتیم، مثل زنبورعسل وزوز می کردیم، عمو آلکس یک دفعه رشته ی چرت و پرت های خوشایندمان را پاره می کرد و با صدای بلند می گفت "آخه اگه این قشنگ نیست، پس چی قشنگه؟"
حالا من هم همان کار را می کنم، بچه ها و نوه هایم هم همین طور. تروخدا وقتی شاد هستید، لطفاً آن دم را دریابید و به هر شکلی که می توانید، با صدای بلند یا زیر لب یا توی دلتان بگویید "اگه این قشنگ نیست، پس چی قشنگه؟" ک.و
January 12, 2018
مجموعهای از حرفهای آقای ونهگوت درباره همه چیز.
و البته حرفهای آقای ونهگوت حرفهای خیلی خوبی هست. و ارزش خوندن داره. طنز هم هست گاهی و تلخ.
قسمتی که فراموش نمیکنماش، هیچوقت، موقعیه که درباره مهم بودن زیباییهای لحظهای و کوچیک حرف میزنه و ماجرای پست کردن کارهاش رو برای ناشرش شرح میده. که چطوری به تمام جزئیات زندگیش توجه میکنه و ازشون لذت میبره.
و البته اینکه خوشی واقعی، خیلی ساده و زودگذر هست و اگه چشممون رو بهروش باز نکنیم مثل ماسه از میون انگشتا میریزه پایین و از دستاش میدیم.
و البته حرفهای آقای ونهگوت حرفهای خیلی خوبی هست. و ارزش خوندن داره. طنز هم هست گاهی و تلخ.
قسمتی که فراموش نمیکنماش، هیچوقت، موقعیه که درباره مهم بودن زیباییهای لحظهای و کوچیک حرف میزنه و ماجرای پست کردن کارهاش رو برای ناشرش شرح میده. که چطوری به تمام جزئیات زندگیش توجه میکنه و ازشون لذت میبره.
و البته اینکه خوشی واقعی، خیلی ساده و زودگذر هست و اگه چشممون رو بهروش باز نکنیم مثل ماسه از میون انگشتا میریزه پایین و از دستاش میدیم.
January 2, 2020
خدا رحمتت کنه آقای ونه گوت
اولین کتاب چالش کتاب خوانی امسالم رو عمدا از ونه گوت انتخاب کردم تا بتونم علاوه بر شروع چالش یه صفایی هم بکنم.
این کتاب به نوعی وصیتنامه کورت ونه گوت هست و توش میشه از هر دری، سخنی، رو به وضوح دید. کورت ونه گوت به شدت سیاسی بوده �� توی این کتاب هم مشهود این رویه رو ادامه داده و از هیچ فرصتی برای بیان دیدگاه های سیاسی خودش صرف نظر نمی کنه. همینطور این کتاب به بیان سایر دیدگاه های او پرداخته و نهایتا جستجوی کوتاه ولی عمیق و درخشان در باب معنای زندگی هم داره. از دستش ندید ، هم با ترجمه علی اصغر بهرامی عالیه و هم حسین شهرابی.
خدا رحمتت کند آقای کورت ونه گوت جونیور عزیز.
اولین کتاب چالش کتاب خوانی امسالم رو عمدا از ونه گوت انتخاب کردم تا بتونم علاوه بر شروع چالش یه صفایی هم بکنم.
این کتاب به نوعی وصیتنامه کورت ونه گوت هست و توش میشه از هر دری، سخنی، رو به وضوح دید. کورت ونه گوت به شدت سیاسی بوده �� توی این کتاب هم مشهود این رویه رو ادامه داده و از هیچ فرصتی برای بیان دیدگاه های سیاسی خودش صرف نظر نمی کنه. همینطور این کتاب به بیان سایر دیدگاه های او پرداخته و نهایتا جستجوی کوتاه ولی عمیق و درخشان در باب معنای زندگی هم داره. از دستش ندید ، هم با ترجمه علی اصغر بهرامی عالیه و هم حسین شهرابی.
خدا رحمتت کند آقای کورت ونه گوت جونیور عزیز.
July 13, 2012
As seems to happen often, I became a fan of Vonnegut during college. It's been a few years since then and so to finally hear him writing in his own voice about his own thoughts, as opposed to getting to know him through the eyes of his fictional characters, was very cool. The sarcasm, the dry wit, that cynical-yet-hopeful view of the world...ah yes, if Mark Twain had a 20th Century doppelganger, it was Vonnegut.
June 18, 2013
People may find fault with Vonnegut for his know-it-all, been-there-done-that tone in this memoir. People may not even find anything new or insightful in here since every person well-versed with current affairs and the nitty-gritties of international politics has at least a second-hand knowledge of America's present day troubles. But what people are certainly bound to appreciate is Vonnegut's mordant wit and his fine sense of humour.
November 2, 2023
it’s ridiculous how this planet is evolving backwards.
Read
August 13, 2024Evolution can go to hell as far as I am concerned. What a mistake we are. We have mortally wounded this sweet life-supporting planet—the only one in the whole Milky Way—with a century of transportation whoopee. Our government is conducting a war against drugs, is it? Let them go after petroleum. Talk about a destructive high! You put some of this stuff in your car and you can go a hundred miles an hour, run over the neighbor’s dog, and tear the atmosphere to smithereens. Hey, as long as we are stuck with being homo sapiens, why mess around? Let’s wreck the whole joint.
Gosto muito do tom acídulo característico das palestras e ensaios de Vonnegut. Estes então, publicados em fim de vida, são particularmente acutilantes, amargos e duros. E com justeza, já que visam diretamente uma humanidade que se vai esfumando por detrás de construtos sociais, tecnológicos e políticos que a afastam cada vez mais da sua própria natureza:
Bill Gates says,“Wait till you can see what your computer can become.” But it’s you who should be doing the becoming, not the damn fool computer. What you can become is the miracle you were born to be through the work that you do.
E se a voz de Vonnegut parece a de um velho rezingão, isso não é por acaso. O escritor adotou, ao longo da vida, uma postura de crítico, uma espécie de papel de Velho do Restelo norte-americano, mas um Velho do Restelo (cheio de razão) com um sentido se humor engenhoso, capaz de nos deixar de lágrimas nos olhos, mortos de riso perante as nossas próprias fraquezas. Um riso profundo e sombrio, mas catártico e libertador:
I am going to sue the Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company, manufacturers of Pall Mall cigarettes, for a billion bucks! Starting when I was only twelve years old, I have never chain-smoked anything but unfiltered Pall Malls. And for many years now, right on the package, Brown and Williamson have promised to kill me. But I am now eighty-two. Thanks a lot, you dirty rats. The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick and Colon.(...)I keep hoping the things will kill me. A fire at one end and a fool at the other.
Essa postura, única no tempo e espaço em que Vonnegut habitou (e espaço e tempo ficam muito evidentes nestes ensaios), impregna cada um dos parágrafos deste livro. E mesmo que não concorde com todas as suas afirmações, posicionamentos éticos e políticos, de vez em quando aprecio a sua voz como uma ligeira admoestação para não esquecer que tudo isto é passageiro, que a vida não passa, a vida voa, e que há valores maiores que, nem que seja de vez em quando (a hipocrisia diria sempre), devem reger os nossos atos e pensamentos. Mas, sobretudo, aprecio a sua voz por me lembrar que, com um bocadinho de humor, até as coisas mais negras se aligeiram um pouco (só um pouco):
I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, “Isaac is up in heaven now.” It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, “Kurt is up in heaven now.” That’s my favorite joke.
Gosto muito do tom acídulo característico das palestras e ensaios de Vonnegut. Estes então, publicados em fim de vida, são particularmente acutilantes, amargos e duros. E com justeza, já que visam diretamente uma humanidade que se vai esfumando por detrás de construtos sociais, tecnológicos e políticos que a afastam cada vez mais da sua própria natureza:
Bill Gates says,“Wait till you can see what your computer can become.” But it’s you who should be doing the becoming, not the damn fool computer. What you can become is the miracle you were born to be through the work that you do.
E se a voz de Vonnegut parece a de um velho rezingão, isso não é por acaso. O escritor adotou, ao longo da vida, uma postura de crítico, uma espécie de papel de Velho do Restelo norte-americano, mas um Velho do Restelo (cheio de razão) com um sentido se humor engenhoso, capaz de nos deixar de lágrimas nos olhos, mortos de riso perante as nossas próprias fraquezas. Um riso profundo e sombrio, mas catártico e libertador:
I am going to sue the Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company, manufacturers of Pall Mall cigarettes, for a billion bucks! Starting when I was only twelve years old, I have never chain-smoked anything but unfiltered Pall Malls. And for many years now, right on the package, Brown and Williamson have promised to kill me. But I am now eighty-two. Thanks a lot, you dirty rats. The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick and Colon.(...)I keep hoping the things will kill me. A fire at one end and a fool at the other.
Essa postura, única no tempo e espaço em que Vonnegut habitou (e espaço e tempo ficam muito evidentes nestes ensaios), impregna cada um dos parágrafos deste livro. E mesmo que não concorde com todas as suas afirmações, posicionamentos éticos e políticos, de vez em quando aprecio a sua voz como uma ligeira admoestação para não esquecer que tudo isto é passageiro, que a vida não passa, a vida voa, e que há valores maiores que, nem que seja de vez em quando (a hipocrisia diria sempre), devem reger os nossos atos e pensamentos. Mas, sobretudo, aprecio a sua voz por me lembrar que, com um bocadinho de humor, até as coisas mais negras se aligeiram um pouco (só um pouco):
I am, incidentally, Honorary President of the American Humanist Association, having succeeded the late, great science fiction writer Isaac Asimov in that totally functionless capacity. We had a memorial service for Isaac a few years back, and I spoke and said at one point, “Isaac is up in heaven now.” It was the funniest thing I could have said to an audience of humanists. I rolled them in the aisles. It was several minutes before order could be restored. And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, “Kurt is up in heaven now.” That’s my favorite joke.
January 21, 2012
Something of a misnomer, this title: “A Memoir of Life in George W. Bush’s America.” Hmm. No. In fact, Kurt’s final book is another collage of pieces taken from public speeches, and various articles commissioned for the publication In These Times. Michael Silverblatt described this book as a “response to a plea”—that plea coming from the editors of Seven Stories Press, who tickled Vonnegut into writing little chunks again. Any fresh writing from an eighty-three-year-old man is hard to come by, and Kurt recycles passages from previous books, most notably Dr. Kevorkian. But who cares? This collection is deftly edited to give Kurt’s words real power through brevity, and a cadence is established throughout, building to a moving climax. Not bad for a man without a country. The excrement has truly hit the air conditioner. (P.S. Portions of this appear in this excellent speech).
February 23, 2017
“Persuasive guessing has been at the core of leadership for so long, for all of human experience so far, that it is wholly unsurprising that most of the leaders of this planet, in spite of all the information that is suddenly ours, want the guessing to go on.”
Ovu kratku knjigu je Vonegut napisao u osamdeset četvrtoj godini i nevjerovatno je koliko je i tada bio pun života i volje za kritiziranjem.
Svojim prepoznatljivim britkim stilom piše o svemu što mu padne na pamet. Ima tu malo autobiografijskih zapisa, odličnih savjeta o pisanju uz grafikone, gdje je priložio i kratke osvrte na neka od najpoznatijih literarnih djela, ima i politike, pa malo savjeta kako se bolje nositi sa životnim nedaćama, a sve je prožeto njegovim prepoznatljivim humorom zbog kojeg se ova knjižica ne ispušta iz ruku dok se ne pročita.
Iako sam uživao u čitanju petica mi je prevelika ocjena jer mi se čini da je Vonnegut skupio ono što mu se u tom trenutku našlo na stolu i to poslao izdavaču.
Ovu kratku knjigu je Vonegut napisao u osamdeset četvrtoj godini i nevjerovatno je koliko je i tada bio pun života i volje za kritiziranjem.
Svojim prepoznatljivim britkim stilom piše o svemu što mu padne na pamet. Ima tu malo autobiografijskih zapisa, odličnih savjeta o pisanju uz grafikone, gdje je priložio i kratke osvrte na neka od najpoznatijih literarnih djela, ima i politike, pa malo savjeta kako se bolje nositi sa životnim nedaćama, a sve je prožeto njegovim prepoznatljivim humorom zbog kojeg se ova knjižica ne ispušta iz ruku dok se ne pročita.
Iako sam uživao u čitanju petica mi je prevelika ocjena jer mi se čini da je Vonnegut skupio ono što mu se u tom trenutku našlo na stolu i to poslao izdavaču.
July 14, 2011
Kurt Vonnegut is a national treasure. Period. It was my intention to expand upon my opinion of Kurt Vonnegut in this review but the above statement alone seems sufficient. I love Kurt Vonnegut. Fuck Fox News. I hate Fox News because they hated Kurt Vonnegut. What did he do wrong? He spoke the truth. He spoke without flourish or innuendo, straightforwardly, about things that are taboo. Fox would rather lie to you and discredit an honest man after his death than risk you going out and reading his books. Well, I say, go out and get yourself an enormous, teetering tower of Kurt Vonnegut books. They'll pull the wool from your eyes. Education, ladies and gentleman, is the only key to a brighter future. Stop watching television, listening to the radio, and giving credence to major media sources. They'll lie to you till you don't know right from left. Instead, I urge you to expand your mind with the only thing us humble citizens still have at our disposal that remains untarnished: books, heaps and heaps of glooooooooooorious books. Good reading to you.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,875 reviews