In the introduction to “And So It Goes,” his excellent biography of Kurt Vonnegut, Charles J. Shields recalls an early conversation in which Vonnegut lashed out, with genuine venom, against such family members as his brother, Bernard, a man he had written about with great affection in his 1976 novel, “Slapstick.” A few pages later, Shields recounts an earlier incident in which Vonnegut, incensed by the remarks of a “smart aleck” theatergoer, invited the man into the parking lot and knocked him to the ground. These vignettes serve as early warning signals that the portrait we’re about to encounter — the portrait of a world-renowned humanist — will contain some dark and unexpected revelations.
Vonnegut was born in Indianapolis in 1922, the youngest of three children. His father was a moderately successful architect. His mother, Edith, was a distant, emotionally unstable woman whose eventual suicide would haunt Vonnegut throughout his life. Shields sketches Vonnegut’s adolescent years with admirable efficiency, isolating those elements that would prove most significant: the life-
altering effects of the Depression, Kurt’s first glimpse of the importance of extended families as antidotes to loneliness, his discovery of humor as a means of asserting himself in a highly competitive family. A predilection for irreverent wit followed him from Indianapolis to Cornell University, where he was an indifferent student and inveterate joker whose primary interest was writing for the college newspaper. His abortive academic career ended with the advent of World War II and his enlistment in the infantry.





















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