Passing of an inspiration

My all-time favorite novelist, Kurt Vonnegut, passed away today (Courant, by Carole Goldberg).

Regardless of what any of my former English teachers may think, their "required" reading never did much of anything for me (with the notable exception of Huckleberry Finn... which I still remember fondly). Nope. If I am well-read, it has little to do with their choices.

It was my freshman year at CHS... or maybe I was still at Dodd... my brother bought me a copy of Galapagos, Vonnegut's then-most recent novel. And since I was (and still am) fascinated with the archipelago, I decided to do what I rarely ever did... give the book a chance.

From page 1, I was captured. I started going to the Cheshire Public Library on a regular basis. I had to read Everything Vonnegut... (well, all of his novels at least... with the exception of Slaughterhouse-5 which bored me to death every time I tried cracking that book open). He was fantastic and he inspired me to read.

And so, I bid Kurt Vonnegut (and Kilgore Trout!) a fond farewell. He not only inspired me to read, he was the first novelist to capture my imagination.

Tim White