Chapter 4
Personal Turmoil and Professional Triumph
As the 1970s began, Vonnegut's life underwent dramatic transformation. His marriage of nearly 25 years to Jane ended as he left their established life on Cape Cod for Manhattan. In poignant letters to his longtime friend and editor Knox Burger, he confessed to a deep "revulsion to Cape Cod" despite his profound love for his family. The coastal haven that had once provided solace now felt suffocating. With his six children - Mark, Edith, Nanette, Steven, Kurt Jr., and Lily - now grown, he characterized this period as "a time of change, of good-bye and good-bye and good-bye," marked by increased alcohol consumption and escalating domestic tensions.
The arrival of photographer Jill Krementz, initially commissioned to "chronicle" him during the production of his play "Happy Birthday, Wanda June," marked a pivotal turning point. Their professional relationship evolved into a personal one, leading them to share a Manhattan apartment by 1973. Their marriage in 1979 represented a fresh start, culminating in the purchase of a house in Sagaponack, Long Island. There, they joined an illustrious community of writers including James Jones (author of "From Here to Eternity"), Irwin Shaw ("Rich Man, Poor Man"), and Truman Capote, creating a vibrant literary enclave.
In an emotionally raw 1971 letter to his daughter Nanny, Vonnegut took pains to explain that his separation wasn't precipitated by another woman but by the persistent, destructive fighting with Jane. He emphasized that his relationship with Jill developed only after he'd already made the difficult decision not to return home, writing with characteristic directness: "I love you as much as I love anybody in the world." These personal communications reveal his struggle to maintain family bonds while pursuing personal peace.
Throughout the 1970s, Vonnegut's letters paint a portrait of a man actively seeking new "extended families" to replace what he'd lost. He immersed himself in the American literary establishment through the National Institute of Arts and Letters, working extensively with PEN to advocate for imprisoned writers worldwide. He developed a particularly close relationship with his Russian translator Rita Rait, whom he championed tirelessly. Drawing from his Midwestern roots, he frequently recommended churches to lonely people as instant extended families, and spoke admiringly of Alcoholics Anonymous (founded in Indianapolis by his uncle Alex) for its ability to create supportive communities nationwide.
Professional successes helped balance personal upheavals. The 1972 film adaptation of "Slaughterhouse-Five" brought him particular joy, with Vonnegut praising how faithfully "they simply put the novel on the screen." His growing fame, however, brought new challenges, including censorship battles he fought with characteristic wit and vigor. Following book burnings in North Dakota and bannings in New York, he penned a scathing piece in The New York Times, memorably describing censors as "orangutans" who needed remedial education in First Amendment rights.
His literary output remained strong throughout this period of personal transition. "Breakfast of Champions" (1973) was followed by the successful essay collection "Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons," which achieved bestseller status. Though his 1976 novel "Slapstick" received notably harsh reviews (prompting his sardonic comment "They loved me in Medicine Hat"), he demonstrated his resilience by rebounding with "Jailbird" in 1979, a sharp satirical take on the Watergate scandal that garnered critical acclaim and restored his literary standing.
Chapter 5
The Artist's Evolution: New Forms of Expression
The 1980s marked a transformative decade of artistic expansion for Vonnegut, who finally embraced the visual creativity that ran deep in his family lineage. His grandfather and father were accomplished architects who left their mark on Indianapolis's cityscape, while his sister Alice and daughters were naturally gifted artists. Though he had long incorporated sketches and doodles into his literary works, most notably in "Slaughterhouse-Five" and "Breakfast of Champions," Vonnegut's first formal art exhibition at Margo Feiden Galleries in 1980 represented a significant artistic milestone.
His visual style was distinctively minimalist yet expressive, often featuring simple lines that captured complex emotions. In a revealing 1980 letter to Donald Fiene, Vonnegut detailed his debut art show's reception, noting how visitors were "surprised by how good it was" but showed typical art-world hesitation about purchasing. He successfully sold twenty-one pieces, primarily portraits and heads, along with several still-lifes and nude studies, maintaining a consistent price point of $400 for standard-sized works. This visual artistic practice became increasingly vital to his creative expression, particularly during periods when writing proved challenging or emotionally draining.
During this period, Vonnegut's creative experimentation extended beyond visual art into unexpected literary territories. He crafted a children's book reimagining the Nativity story, bringing his characteristic humanist perspective to this traditional tale. A pivotal moment came after attending Andrew Lloyd Webber's Requiem Mass premiere in 1985. Finding the traditional Latin text both "terrible" and "sadistic," Vonnegut undertook the ambitious project of writing his own humanist version. He collaborated with translators to render it in Latin and worked with composers to create a musical setting, which eventually premiered with a Unitarian choir in Buffalo, demonstrating his ability to bridge secular humanism with traditional religious forms.
Despite these creative diversions, Vonnegut maintained his prolific literary output, publishing five major novels during the 1980s: "Palm Sunday," "Deadeye Dick," "Galapagos," "Bluebeard," and "Hocus Pocus." Each work showcased his evolving narrative style and deepening philosophical perspectives. However, the decade also brought significant personal challenges, including a serious hospitalization following an overdose in 1984, the loss of several close writer friends, and most devastatingly, the death of his first wife Jane from cancer in 1986. Throughout these trials, he remained committed to his role as an advocate for writers' rights through his work with PEN.
In a particularly revealing 1987 letter to Harry James Cargas, Vonnegut discussed his ongoing work on the secular humanist Requiem, mentioning his serendipitous collaboration with a composer he met while serving jury duty. The letter showcased his characteristic wit as he playfully linked childhood athletics to middle-age ailments, and challenged religious orthodoxy by questioning the historical foundations of trinitarian doctrine. This correspondence highlighted how Vonnegut continued to blend serious intellectual discourse with his trademark humor, even in personal communications.
Chapter 6
The Final Chapter: Finding Meaning in a Changing World
After his devastating 1989 Mozambique trip where he witnessed suffering comparable to Auschwitz, Vonnegut published "Hocus Pocus" (1990), "Fates Worse Than Death" (1991), and his final novel "Timequake" (1997). He struggled with writing during this period, comparing himself to Melville's whalers who "had said absolutely everything they could ever say."
Finding renewed creative expression through visual art, he partnered with printmaker Joe Petro III to create silk-screen prints of his drawings, describing the process as "absorbing" and a "sopper-upper" of his creative energy. In 1996, Robert Weide adapted "Mother Night" into a film starring Nick Nolte, which Vonnegut appreciated as "a swell movie"-a satisfying outcome for a novel that had been originally published as an unreviewed paperback in 1962.
The new millennium began traumatically when an overturned ashtray started a fire in his townhouse, sending him to the hospital with smoke inhalation. After recovery, he relocated to Northampton, Massachusetts, near his children who supported him through what he called "The Battle of the Bulge." He taught at Smith College, exhibited his silk-screen artwork, and began a novel about a stand-up comedian titled "If God Were Alive Today."
Though the novel stalled, his artwork provided a creative outlet when he felt he had "said absolutely everything." A 2004 exhibition featured four generations of Vonnegut family art. Despite feeling creatively spent, the Bush administration and America's political climate drove him back to writing. His essays for In These Times became the bestselling "A Man Without a Country," offering political commentary, wisdom, and his enduring message: "God damn it, you've got to be kind."
In his final years, Vonnegut's letters reveal a man reflecting on his legacy while maintaining his characteristic wit. Writing to Jerome Klinkowitz in 2004, he shared what he considered his personal "E=MC2"-a sentiment that reflected his feelings about the state of the world. To poet Alice Fulton in 2007, he politely declined an invitation to speak at Cornell, describing himself at 84 as resembling "an iguana," hating travel, and having "nothing to say."
Vonnegut remained productive into his eighties before dying on April 11, 2007, after a fall at his home. His legacy continues with the establishment of the Vonnegut Museum and Library, his enduring popularity among young readers, and the continued teaching of his works in schools nationwide.
Chapter 7
The Writer's Craft: Vonnegut's Unique Voice and Vision
Throughout his letters, Vonnegut offers remarkable insights into his writing process and philosophy, revealing a mind that merged artistic sophistication with deliberate accessibility. In a 1990 letter to Marc Leeds, he described his writing style as "lower class, intuitive, moody, and anxious to hold the attention of a potentially hostile audience," with a tendency like comedians and jazz musicians to "change the subject or mood" quickly. This self-awareness of his artistic approach demonstrated how carefully he cultivated his seemingly casual style.
This jazz-like approach to writing wasn't accidental but carefully developed over years of experimentation. In a 1989 letter, Vonnegut credited Bob and Ray comedy tapes with giving him "permission to be intelligently ridiculous," helping him break through a two-year creative block. He particularly admired their ability to maintain deadpan delivery while presenting absurd situations, a technique he would later perfect in works like "Slaughterhouse-Five" and "Cat's Cradle." The influence of music and comedy on his work appears repeatedly in his correspondence, revealing how he crafted his distinctive voice through a combination of timing, tone shifts, and strategic humor.
Vonnegut's letters also showcase his practical approach to writing and the business of literature. In a 1972 letter to his son Mark about book advances, he offered candid advice about the publishing industry's complexities, explaining how advances work financially as loans against future royalties and warning about publishers wanting to "cross-collateralize" multiple books. He drew from his own experiences with publishers, sharing specific examples of contract pitfalls and negotiation strategies. He encouraged Mark to focus on writing rather than money games, noting that "really good books usually don't" make much money, and cited examples from his own career where artistic success didn't translate to financial reward.
His advice to aspiring writers was equally practical and grounded in real-world experience. In a 1996 letter to Alex Maslansky, Vonnegut emphasized that writers need real experiences that "take time to accumulate" rather than relying on television's "illusion of experiences." He advocated for writers to immerse themselves in their immediate surroundings and local communities, arguing that authentic storytelling emerges from intimate knowledge of specific places and people. He encouraged seeking personal truths and embraced provincialism: "The secret of universality is provincialism. Don't open a window and make love to the world." This philosophy manifested in his own work, where he frequently returned to his experiences in Indianapolis and Dresden to explore universal themes.
Perhaps most revealing is his primary lesson in creative writing, which focused on "sociability" - "Please, please, please, make sure the reader is having an interesting time, and the hell with you" - a dictum young writers found "an exasperating barrier." This reader-first approach influenced everything from his sentence structure to his plot developments, leading him to develop techniques like his famous time-jumps and recurring characters that kept readers engaged while exploring complex themes. He consistently emphasized that a writer's duty was to their audience, not their own ego, and demonstrated this through his accessible yet profound writing style.
Chapter 8
The Human Behind the Legend: Vonnegut's Enduring Legacy
What emerges most powerfully from Vonnegut's letters is his fundamental humanity. Despite his fame and literary stature, he remained deeply connected to his family, friends, and readers. His correspondence reveals a man who valued kindness above all else, who fought passionately against censorship and injustice, and who never lost his sense of humor even in the darkest times. Whether writing to his children about life's challenges or responding to fans about their interpretations of his work, Vonnegut maintained an authenticity and warmth that transcended his celebrity status.
In his final decade, Vonnegut continued to speak truth to power while maintaining his characteristic wit. His essays for In These Times became the bestselling "A Man Without a Country," offering political commentary and wisdom that resonated with readers across generations. He tackled contentious issues like the Iraq War, environmental degradation, and the erosion of civil liberties with both fierce conviction and sardonic humor. His enduring message-"God damn it, you've got to be kind"-remains as relevant today as when he first wrote it, serving as both a personal philosophy and a call to action for his readers.
Vonnegut's letters complete the portrait of a man whose literary voice shaped generations. They reveal the struggles, triumphs, and everyday moments that informed his work and worldview. From his early days as a struggling writer sending hopeful submissions to magazines, to his experiences teaching at the Iowa Writers' Workshop, to his later years as an American literary icon, Vonnegut's correspondence offers an unfiltered glimpse into the mind of a true original. His letters to publishers show his dedication to craft, while his personal correspondence reveals his struggles with depression, his joy in family life, and his constant effort to, in his own words, "make sure the reader is having an interesting time."
The letters also illuminate Vonnegut's creative process, showing how real-life experiences transformed into his distinctive literary works. His experiences as a prisoner of war during the Dresden bombing, for instance, appear in various letters years before becoming the centerpiece of "Slaughterhouse-Five." His correspondence with fellow writers like Norman Mailer and John Irving reveals the literary circles he inhabited and his thoughts on the craft of writing itself.
In the end, these letters stand as a testament to Vonnegut's enduring legacy-not just as a writer of extraordinary imagination and insight, but as a deeply human voice speaking truth in an often inhuman world. As he wrote to his daughter Nanny in 1999, "I am not about to turn off the ignition. I could never do that to the rest of you." Through his extensive correspondence with anti-war activists, environmentalists, and young writers, he demonstrated an unwavering commitment to fostering positive change. His letters, like his novels, continue to inspire new generations to question authority, embrace humanity's quirks, and find humor in life's darkest moments. Through his letters and his literature, Vonnegut's voice continues to resonate, challenging us to be kinder, more thoughtful, and perhaps a bit more wonderfully weird in an increasingly complex world.