I'm on the fence about a lot of Vonnegut's work. Because on the one hand, I read Slaughterhouse 5 as a literature illiterate in Junior year of High School (it wasn't until after High School that I became a real fan of reading). So there's a lot to love about Vonnegut on a purely nostalgic basis, or at least on the basis that he is who introduced me to literature in the first place. It was he that warmed me up to the great works that were to come, and of all the books that I claim to love now. I wonder to what extent I would appreciate the works that I do know if it wasn't for writers like Vonnegut to sharpen my literary tastes. For that I am thankful for the guy and appreciate the impact he's had on me as a reader and fan of literature. BUT on the other hand, I have to admit you to all, my dearest goodreaders, that I have grown out of Vonnegut's work significantly. And as snobbish or condescending as that might sound, 'tis the truth of the matter. It's difficult, for me anyway, to read other authors who push the envelope of writing and flex their might prowess with prose, to return to my roots and read the plain-jane Vonnegut style and still enjoy it. The lengths to which other authors have brought me seems to overshadow the work that Vonnegut does. He is a writer (of his own admission) that is great in ideas but weak in actual writing ability. While I don't agree that his writing is weak (it is its own style and inhabits its own space as a style of writing), I do agree with the underlying sentiment. V. puts emphasis on the ideas and structure of the story much more than he does of his writing. And I'm at the point in my career as a reader that I will always want something from the writing itself, as a mode and avenue of expression. For me, the whole point of reading literature (what separates itself from any other medium of story-telling) are the things that writing can do in and of itself, hence my proclivity for post-modernism (that puts writing itself as the main focus of its story-telling aim) and prose that is effected poetically in some way, shape or form, Nabokov, Woolf, etc. This is the main issue that I take with all minimalist writing, which maximalist writing (loose categories here, nothing too specific in mind) provides and quenches what I seek to get from writing. If the writing is so transparent so as to allow a fully-clear view into the story itself, then what's the point of using words? Why not any other medium? Such writing yields the medium of writing arbitrary. Not all of this applies to Vonnegut however, because he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve (more than the other minimalist writers that use such style of stripped-down prose). It's interesting that Vonnegut is pomo in several ways—author inserted into the story, incredulity towards grand narratives and self-awareness of the medium itself—yet he presents it all in such a simple way. I think that if I were more inclined towards the stripped-down Hemingway style, that Vonnegut would be one of my favorite writers of all time, but alas, I'm not and alas he's not.This story in particular is a great read: short, fun and intelligent. The ending sets up this ambiguity that resides at the heart of all of Vonnegut's novels. Without spoiling anything, there is a tension running throughout the whole novella between the secular and the religious, and in tandem, meaningless existence and meaningful existence. Despite being a proclaimed atheist and humanist, Vonnegut (the author and the narrative persona) writes a story about heaven and everyone inside it. The reason why this idea and conceit is so much fun in the book is that most of us find comfort in such things (no controversy here, right? assurance of a special place after you die is much more comforting than the unknown void after one dies). So Vonnegut plays with this propensity we have as human beings to keep us going through this playful story, wherein the main character travels back and forth between earth and the gates of heaven to speak to famous figures of history. Yet at the end, the credibility of the narrator is thrown into doubt (as well as the credibility of all such stories that give us hope). The question remains if Vonnegut is an optimist or a pessimist about the hope that people get from such fanciful stories. And that's where his genius shines because for a few sweet minutes after finishing the story, he is both at the same time: hopeful and hopeless.
vonnegut must have written this later in life......what is a humanist? a humanist is a schmitt-heel who makes fun of the beliefs of others, at their expense, and offers nothing in exchange...as cervantes wrote...friend to friend no more draws near and the jester's cane has become a spear.read this one on my amazon kindle, second book i've read on it, both today...got to wondering...are all the pages here? how would i know? can't fan through them and sniff the cover...or is that against the law by now?so kurt vonnegut as the narrator, making some money for public radio, or tv...has these near death experiences arranged by dr. jack kervorkian...dr. death as he has been called, never called that in this....story...(vonnegut is a humanist, dontcha know)......the only fair game are christians...americans, especially the founding fathers, like thomas jefferson, amazingly....wait not...he wasn't at the end of the blue tunnel in heaven...somehow jefferson is a topic though, as a slave owner, yeah, you've heard the spiel...blah de da, jefferson owned slaves.......so you, gentle reader, american, deserve to feel guilt the rest of your natural life...cause, well vonnegut is a humanist and that's the intent.meanwhile, let's all celebrate while barack obama makes fun of those folk in pennsylvania, clinging to their guns and religion....or the rev wright, damns america...no burning cross behind him....but where the fock was the outcry?well, his face was exposed, there on the pulpit of the all-illinois-e church of the modern christ. no hood, but precious little outcry...maybe the rev is a humanist?this one wasn't as bad as that other'n (a man w/o a country)...all that ranting...this one at least had a modicum of comedy, vonnegut, choking on his tongue.two stars is probably being generous....and yeah, sure, okay, tongue in cheek, less of a spear, like that other'n i read by vonnegut, more of the jester's cane, but it's sharp...and hey, that's allowed...he's a humanist.it's this mentality that allows some wit from one of the major networks to go on the national news and say something about "trailer parks" and paula jones in the same sentence and nobody bats a flocking eyelash. humanism? give me a freakin break.oh, and hitler was a christian. gosh, who'd-a-thunk-it! "watch out for the christians!" vonneguts writes. hO hO hO! a real knee slapper there, kurt! funny thing is, i'd just completed a read of the brothers karamazov and i'm assuming russia's religions had some sway at the time and thereafter, but we all know about stalin's purges and the state of religion in that country, right? what? was uncle joe a christian? no...it's not christians one need fear, it's the kind of mentality that thinks writing like this from vonnegut is a hoot. joking you say? okay, i'll buy that, but like i said, the jester's cane has been sharpened and he seems to delight in stabbing all with it and by the time "a man w/o a country" came out, he was a ranting fool.vonnegut was out of his focking mind...hitler/christian?what focking malarkey. hitler was first and foremost a darwinian!this cock-smoking son-of-a--bitch thought he was the head of a superior race and vonnegut insults Christ and his followeres by suggesting this cock-sucker is one of them!!!!and what is so fucking amazing is the number of shitheels who found this amusing.
Do You like book God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian (2001)?
Stuff I Read - God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian by Kurt Vonnegut ReviewSo this is a weird little book. I'm really not sure exactly how to describe it, because it straddles a few lines, bends a few conventions, and it's hard to tell at times just how genuine or sincere the book is trying to be. Which might in part be due to the nature of the project. In a series of very short pieces intended for radio, Vonnegut imagines himself as a journalist to the afterlife, a man who can go and visit the other side to talk to other people who have died. It's a rather strange concept, and one that largely works, though I think these works are limited by their intent and scope and brevity.These were not originally intended to be read, after all, so reading them is to take them out of context in some ways, to see how they work as stories, and then as stories creating a whole. Which also wasn't the point, because these weren't really intended to be taken in one after the other all at once, which is how I read them. They were originally to be taken in days or weeks apart, not necessarily in any order and not necessarily having read or listened to any of the other installments, though similar themes to crop but occasionally. As stories, though, and as a whole, the short works are definitely entertaining, sometimes funny, sometimes thought-provoking, but they don't really work all that well as a collection; they don't build and echo as well as they could.In some ways this book seems more like a mash-up of some strange ideas, some decent jokes, and some fairly shallow philosophy. Vonnegut discusses humanism a bit in the beginning, and it is kind of that idea that circles back around through the short snippets, the 90-seconds of audio. The use of Dr. Kevorkian, the idea of how strangely death is treated in this country, is also something that comes back up, and I think is probably the best treated idea here. That a society can decide that it has the right to kill people and yet deny that people have the right to kill themselves is just messed up. Vonnegut uses his charm, his skill, to point out again and again how complex the real situation is, and uses figures like serial killers and Hitler to make his point about death and the afterlife.In the end, though, I don't think this book is quite as successful as it could have been. It is a bit obvious that these are very short pieces that Vonnegut did more as a fundraiser for public radio than as something that was going to really make a statement. And while it does reach a few points, they aren't explored with the same passion and critical gaze that Vonnegut is more known for. While this was fun, a look into what Vonnegut could do in such a short space, it's entertaining a bit more for the novelty than for the real art. These are fun, witty, clever pieces, don't get me wrong. They just aren't all that great. And with that in mind I'm going to give this book a 7/10.
—Charles
For an extremely short period of time in the late nineties, Kurt was “Reporter on the Afterlife” for the WNYC radio station in, presumably, NYC—hence the station’s name. (Columbo in the house!) This extremely short book compiles his ninety-second radio spots, where he met such figures as Dr. Mary D. Ainsworth, Adolf Hitler, Sir Isaac Newton and Isaac Asimov. Following Timequake, these little pieces were, more or less, what Kurt did towards the end of his life—little paragraphs of philosophical apothegms, autobiographical reflection, and consistently sharp social comment, all written with a cutting wit and humanist bent. If there were an online repository for Kurt’s taped interviews, speeches, appearances, etc (on his website would help) these sorts of collections wouldn’t need to exist. But I’m glad it does. And, on this fortunate occasion, you can listen to the original broadcasts here.
—MJ Nicholls
God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian, Kurt Vonnegutعنوان: خدا حفظتان کند دکتر کهوارکیان؛ نویسنده: کورت ونه گات؛ مترجم: مصطفی رضیئی؛ مشخصات نشر: تهران، افراز، 1389، در 96 ص، شابک: 9789642432301؛ موضوع: مصاحبه های خیالی
—Ahmad Sharabiani
