Palm Sunday: An Autobiographical Collage (1981)

As is indicated by the subtitle, this is an eclectic mix of (mostly) KV's uncollected writing at the time it was published in 1981. The format allows him to put in plain English many of the themes evident in his fiction. It's interesting to see his background and the things that made him tick. The high points for me were parts 1 (The First Amendment), 5 (Self-Interview), 8 (Mark Twain), and 11 (Religion).

Less enjoyable were parts 2 (Roots) and 15 (Jekyll and Hyde Updated). Roots is quite self-indulgent. It is a dry account of Vonnegut's ancestry going back a few generations, penned for the most part by his Uncle John. ( )

There are a few gems to be found in here. I recommend the title sermon, "Palm Sunday", to all fans of Vonnegut (at the least). ( )

I start off by stating that i came to this one a little backward in that i had read 'Man Without a Country' first and really enjoyed it. I have always enjoyed Vonnegut's writing style and find him to be a hilarious writer. Again all the obvious statements, but what struck me about this book came from a comment my wife said when i gave her a few paragraphs from the book that had me cracking up about suicide, "I think that Kurt Vonnegut writes best when he gives me information from his own life and details he has picked up from living it" BIngo! For me this is what made Vonnegut great. He is able to detail through these brief sketches all those branches and roots that have made so many American lives and in that respect we are able to better understand his faults and eccentricities. Is this the right book to jump into for Vonnegut? A resounding NO would be my answer but for those that have picked up on a few novels and might want to know more about what made Vonnegut tick then any of the three autobiographical tomes would be a great place to check it out. ( )

This book, the first of two "autobiographical collages" of Vonnegut's life, musings, and heretofore unpublished writings, is stunning not for the clarity of its intent or its compulsive readability, but for how it shows better than almost any other Vonnegut text how versatile a writer he could be.

Within this book are short stories, letters, speeches, sermons, introductions, essays, one self-interview, and a treatment of a play. Not all of them hit the mark, as is to be expected, but many of them are, and they are all at least passable. This is an admirable feat because so many of Vonnegut's novels seem to take on similar themes in a similar style and voice. Here, when Vonnegut takes off the mask of fiction, he reveals himself to be a far more talented writer than many may have given him credit for.

He finishes the book, interestingly enough for an athiest, with a Palm Sunday sermon which he concludes with, "I thank you for your sweetly faked attention." Yet by the time we reach that line, our attention has been far from faked, and nothing short of rapt.

Various writings (ephemera in the old days before Vonnegut became unable to create ephemera) and autobiographical musings. I liked the one on Twain and the one on Celine was interesting. Maybe there is too much autobiography (he describes all his ancestors to the great grandparent level.)