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Goodbye, Kurt cleaning "or whatever is handy where Poo!

April 12 2007
12:05

I am writing since 1949. I am self - taught. I have no theories about literature, useful to others. When I write, I just become yourself. And I'm six feet two inches tall, weigh me about two hundred pounds, lumber, only swim well. That's all this, temporarily borrowed, carcass and writes books. But in the water I'm beautiful.


My father and paternal grandfather were architects in Indianapolis, Indiana, where I was born. My grandfather on his mother was a beer factory. My grandfather won a gold medal at the Paris exhibition for its beer, called "Liber lager. The secret of - addition of coffee.


My only brother older than me for eight years, he - a famous scientist. His specialty - the physics of something related to the clouds. His name is Bernard, and he is much more interesting to me.


I remember he wrote me, when its first son, Peter, brought from the hospital: "Now, - the letter began - I mostly tidy piece of shit from somewhere horrible.


My only sister was older than me by five years. She died four decades. The growth in it, too, was over six feet. Beauty, it was heavenly, and surprisingly graceful - not only in water but on land. She was a sculptor. Christened her "Alice", but she always said that no it was not Alice. I agree. And all agreed. Perhaps someday, in a dream, I discovered her name for real.


Her last words before dying were: "Do not pain." She killed her cancer.


And now I understand that the brother and sister identified the main themes of my novels: "Go where no horrible piece of shit" and "do not have pain."


I was in charge of external relations for General Electric, and then became a freelance artist - delivered so-called "pap", mostly - science fiction. I grew up mentally by changing the profession, I can not decide. This, like much else, I ask of God on Judgement Day - by the way, they should know how to really called my sister.


It is possible that this would happen, for example, next Wednesday.

Once I asked a question about his moral degeneration of a certain university professor who, sitting in his Mercedes-Benz-300, "he assured me that all departments and employees of foreign relations, and the authors of pap - the same dirty trick: they both distort the truth money. I asked him - what he considers the lowest grade literature, and he said: "science fiction".


My sister smoked too much. My father smoked too much. My mother smoked too much. I smoke too much. My brother is also smoked too much, and then threw what was a miracle, like the Gospel miracle of loaves and fishes.

As a guest, at a cocktail party, I was approached by a pretty girl and asked:
- What are you doing now?
- Samoubivayus cigarettes - I said.
She thought it was very clever. And I - no.
I thought - how disgusting despise life so to continually suck carcinogenic stuff. I smoke, I "poll-mall" These suicide say - "poll-mall". Amateurs call this sort of "pall-mall".


One relative of mine secretly wrote the story of some members of our family. Something he showed me, but about my grandfather, an architect said: "He died at age 40 with something, and, in my opinion, was glad to get rid of all this. By "all this" he, apparently, mean life in Indianapolis. This fear of life and sometimes fumbling in me.


Our health leaders will never say, for whatever reason a lot of Americans smoke without restraint. And the reason is that smoking - quite reliable and very decent way of suicide.

br /> a shame that sometimes I too would like to go "from all this, but now no longer want. I have six children - my own three, three - from his late sister. Children are wonderful. My first marriage was successful, and so far very successful. My wife is still beautiful. However, ugly women writers did not happen - I have not seen such.

Kurt Vonnegut

Translated from English R. Wright-Kovaleva "Open space", 1972, № 5.

natasha_s

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