End of an Age

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (November 11, 1922 – April 11, 2007)

I suppose I should have posted about the passing of Kurt Vonnegut over a week ago, but I didn't. I was distracted by other things, and, I have to admit, a little embarrassed. I have not read any of his books. I can only say, with some chagrin, that I have seen the movie Slaughterhouse-Five, which was good, it was very very good. However, I know film is a different medium, and a book is almost always better. Or at least different. Am I not the one who is usually shaking my head in dismay over people who say offhandedly, "Oh, yeah, I saw the movie," and just leave it at that, as if a movie can possibly replace the inner life of a book? So what can I possibly say about this writer that I've never read?

I can say that he was the voice of his generation, an enigmatic figure of the last century. I can say that his words tug at me like strains of music from another room: Come over here, Look over here. And I will. I will.

And I can say, as can be said of all writers of really good books, that he was taken from us too soon.