Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007
An excerpt from “Player Piano”, Kurt Vonnegut’s 1st novel.
Paul had learned to listen with outward calm when Finnerty spoke of his morbid moments. When he was with Finnerty he liked to pretend that he shared the man’s fantastic and alternately brilliant or black inner thoughts — almost as though he were discontent with his own relative tranquility. Finnerty had spoken dispassionately of suicide often; but, seemingly, he did it because he got pleasure from savoring the idea. If he’d felt driven to kill himself, he would have been dead long ago.
”You think I’m insane?” said Finnerty. Apparently he wanted more of a reaction than Paul had given him.
”You’re still in touch. I guess that’s the test.”
”Barely– barely.”
”A psychiatrist could help. There’s a good man in Albany.”
Finnerty shook his head. ”He’d pull me back into the center, and I want to stay as close on the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” He nodded, ”Big, undreamed-of things — the people on the edge see them first.”
So it goes.
Listen:
Vonnegut was pure genius.
I’ll never look at this sign the same again: *
Ha… yes… the ominous asterik. The first book I read by Vonnegut was “Galapagos” and I was hooked. I used to sign, “Leon Trout was here” on bathroom walls. What a wonderful writer…
sirens of titan is my favorite.
i think i left it in texas somewhere. i remember it used to be
on top of the toilet for a
long time
but that was a
long time
ago.
when i heard about his death i was talking on the phone and
just staring
at the violets
that won’t stop
growing on the hills.
i was almost sad but then i remembered
that there are more
interesting feelings
to feel.