Look at the Birdie. Ein dreifach Hoch auf die Milchstrasse!, englische Ausgabe
Short Fiction
(Sprache: Englisch)
"Relentlessly fun to read."-Dave Eggers • A collection of fourteen previously unpublished short stories from one of the most original writers in all of American fiction
In this series of perfectly rendered vignettes, written just as he was starting to...
In this series of perfectly rendered vignettes, written just as he was starting to...
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"Relentlessly fun to read."-Dave Eggers • A collection of fourteen previously unpublished short stories from one of the most original writers in all of American fictionIn this series of perfectly rendered vignettes, written just as he was starting to find his comic voice, Kurt Vonnegut paints a warm, wise, and funny portrait of life in post-World War II America-a world where squabbling couples, high school geniuses, misfit office workers, and small-town lotharios struggle to adapt to changing technology, moral ambiguity, and unprecedented affluence.
Here are tales both cautionary and hopeful, each brimming with Vonnegut's trademark humor and profound humanism. A family learns the downside of confiding their deepest secrets into a magical invention. A man finds himself in a Kafkaesque world of trouble after he runs afoul of the shady underworld boss who calls the shots in an upstate New York town. A quack psychiatrist turned "murder counselor" concocts a novel new outlet for his paranoid patients. While these stories reflect the anxieties of the postwar era that Vonnegut was so adept at capturing-and provide insight into the development of his early style-collectively, they have a timeless quality that makes them just as relevant today as when they were written. It's impossible to imagine any of these pieces flowing from the pen of another writer; each in its own way is unmistakably, quintessentially Vonnegut.
Featuring a foreword by author and longtime Vonnegut confidant Sidney Offit and illustrated with Vonnegut's characteristically insouciant line drawings, Look at the Birdie is an unexpected gift for readers who thought his unique voice had been stilled forever-and serves as a terrific introduction to his short fiction for anyone who has yet to experience his genius.
Includes these never-before-published stories:
"Confido"
"FUBAR"
"Shout About It from the Housetops"
"Ed Luby's Key Club"
"A Song for Selma"
"Hall of Mirrors"
"The
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Nice Little People"
"Hello, Red"
"Little Drops of Water"
"The Petrified Ants"
"The Honor of a Newsboy"
"Look at the Birdie"
"King and Queen of the Universe"
"The Good Explainer"
"[Look at the Birdie] brings us the late writer's young voice as he skewers-sometimes gently, always lethally-post World War II America."-The Boston Globe
"Hello, Red"
"Little Drops of Water"
"The Petrified Ants"
"The Honor of a Newsboy"
"Look at the Birdie"
"King and Queen of the Universe"
"The Good Explainer"
"[Look at the Birdie] brings us the late writer's young voice as he skewers-sometimes gently, always lethally-post World War II America."-The Boston Globe
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Lese-Probe zu „Look at the Birdie. Ein dreifach Hoch auf die Milchstrasse!, englische Ausgabe “
CONFIDOThe Summer had died peacefully in its sleep, and Autumn, as soft-spoken executrix, was locking life up safely until Spring came to claim it. At one with this sad, sweet allegory outside the kitchen window of her small home was Ellen Bowers, who, early in the morning, was preparing Tuesday breakfast for her husband, Henry. Henry was gasping and dancing and slapping himself in a cold shower on the other side of a thin wall.
Ellen was a fair and tiny woman, in her early thirties, plainly mercurial and bright, though dressed in a dowdy housecoat. In almost any event she would have loved life, but she loved it now with an overwhelming emotion that was like the throbbing amen of a church organ, for she could tell herself this morning that her husband, in addition to being good, would soon be rich and famous.
She hadn't expected it, had seldom dreamed of it, had been content with inexpensive possessions and small adventures of the spirit, like thinking about autumn, that cost nothing at all. Henry was not a moneymaker. That had been the understanding.
He was an easily satisfied tinker, a maker and mender who had a touch close to magic with materials and machines. But his miracles had all been small ones as he went about his job as a laboratory assistant at the Accousti-gem Corporation, a manufacturer of hearing aids. Henry was valued by his employers, but the price they paid for him was not great. A high price, Ellen and Henry had agreed amiably, probably wasn't called for, since being paid at all for puttering was an honor and a luxury of sorts. And that was that.
Or that had seemed to be that, Ellen reflected, for on the kitchen table lay a small tin box, a wire, and an earphone, like a hearing aid, a creation, in its own modern way, as marvelous as Niagara Falls or the Sphinx. Henry had made it in secret during his lunch hours, and had brought it home the night before. Just before bedtime, Ellen had been inspired to give the box a name, an
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appealing combination of confidant and household pet Confido.
What is it every person really wants, more than food almost?" Henry had asked coyly, showing her Confido for the first time. He was a tall, rustic man, ordinarily as shy as a woods creature. But something had changed him, made him fiery and loud. "What is it?"
"Happiness, Henry?"
"Happiness, certainly! But what's the key to happiness?"
"Religion? Security, Henry? Health, dear?"
"What is the longing you see in the eyes of strangers on the street, in eyes wherever you look?"
"You tell me, Henry. I give up," Ellen had said helplessly.
"Somebody to talk to! Somebody who really understands! That's what." He'd waved Confido over his head. "And this is it!"
Now, on the morning after, Ellen turned away from the window and gingerly slipped Confido's earphone into her ear. She pinned the flat metal box inside her blouse and concealed the wire in her hair. A very soft drumming and shushing, with an overtone like a mosquito's hum, filled her ear.
She cleared her throat self-consciously, though she wasn't going to speak aloud, and thought deliberately, "What a nice surprise you are, Confido."
"Nobody deserves a good break any more than you do, Ellen," whispered Confido in her ear. The voice was tinny and high, like a child's voice through a comb with tissue paper stretched over it. "After all you've put up with, it's about time something halfway nice came your way."
"Ohhhhhh," Ellen thought depreciatively, "I haven't been through so much. It's been quite pleasant and easy, really."
"On the surface," said Confido. "But you've had to do without so much."
"Oh, I suppose "
"Now, now," said Confido. "I understand you. This is just between us, anyway, and it's good to bring those things out in the open now and then. It's healthy. This is a lousy, cramped house, and it's left its mark on y
What is it every person really wants, more than food almost?" Henry had asked coyly, showing her Confido for the first time. He was a tall, rustic man, ordinarily as shy as a woods creature. But something had changed him, made him fiery and loud. "What is it?"
"Happiness, Henry?"
"Happiness, certainly! But what's the key to happiness?"
"Religion? Security, Henry? Health, dear?"
"What is the longing you see in the eyes of strangers on the street, in eyes wherever you look?"
"You tell me, Henry. I give up," Ellen had said helplessly.
"Somebody to talk to! Somebody who really understands! That's what." He'd waved Confido over his head. "And this is it!"
Now, on the morning after, Ellen turned away from the window and gingerly slipped Confido's earphone into her ear. She pinned the flat metal box inside her blouse and concealed the wire in her hair. A very soft drumming and shushing, with an overtone like a mosquito's hum, filled her ear.
She cleared her throat self-consciously, though she wasn't going to speak aloud, and thought deliberately, "What a nice surprise you are, Confido."
"Nobody deserves a good break any more than you do, Ellen," whispered Confido in her ear. The voice was tinny and high, like a child's voice through a comb with tissue paper stretched over it. "After all you've put up with, it's about time something halfway nice came your way."
"Ohhhhhh," Ellen thought depreciatively, "I haven't been through so much. It's been quite pleasant and easy, really."
"On the surface," said Confido. "But you've had to do without so much."
"Oh, I suppose "
"Now, now," said Confido. "I understand you. This is just between us, anyway, and it's good to bring those things out in the open now and then. It's healthy. This is a lousy, cramped house, and it's left its mark on y
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Autoren-Porträt von Kurt Vonnegut
Kurt Vonnegut’s humor, satiric voice, and incomparable imagination first captured America’s attention in The Sirens of Titan in 1959 and established him as “a true artist” (The New York Times) with Cat’s Cradle in 1963. He was, as Graham Greene declared, “one of the best living American writers.” Mr. Vonnegut passed away in April 2007.Sidney Offit has written two novels, two memoirs, and ten books for young readers. He was a senior editor of Intellectual Digest and a book editor of Politics Today, and for three decades he has served on the boards of the Authors Guild and PEN American Center. Currently, Mr. Offit is the curator emeritus of the George Polk Awards in Journalism. He lives in New York City with his wife, Avodah.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Kurt Vonnegut
- 2010, 272 Seiten, mit Abbildungen, Maße: 13,4 x 20,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: The Dial Press
- ISBN-10: 0385343728
- ISBN-13: 9780385343725
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
The fourteen stories in Look at the Birdie, none of the afraid to entertain, dabble in whodunnitry, science fiction and commanding fables of good versus girls. Why these stories went unpublished is hard to answer. They re polished, they re relentlessly fun to read, and every last one of them comes to a neat and satisfying end. For transmittal of moral instruction, they are incredibly efficient delivery devices. Dave Eggers, The New York Times Book Review[Look at the Birdie] brings us the late writer s young voice as he skewers sometimes gently, always lethally post World War II America. . . . These stories recall not only a vanished time but also an almost extinct writing style: direct, funny, and free of slickness. The Boston Globe
Vonnegut s wry and whimsical spirit lives on The Daytona Beach News-Journal
In a perfect world, this would be the sort of thing people would line up for at midnight. New York
Why these entertaining little tales were never published before is a mystery. Perhaps some magazine editor was going through a mental breakdown when the stories showed up in the mail. Or perhaps Vonnegut stuffed them into a sock drawer and forgot them. Whatever the case, they are without exception fun to read. . . . A throwback to the days when American readers expected magazines to publish engaging stories. The Roanoke Times
Occasionally from the nation s cultural attic come rare finds, like this wondrous new collection of Kurt Vonnegut short stories. . . . Reading Look at the Birdie is a bit like watching TV s Mad Men, with the added knowledge that the stories are of their time, not re-creations. The mastery evident in these early stories provides a precious glimpse of a writer finding his wings in the years before he soared. Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
Vanity and mendacity had better watch out, because their dearest enemy remains among us, still
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cheerfully kicking their butts. So it goes. The Washington Times
An instructive view of Vonnegut s talent in the making. Publishers Weekly
When reading these stories, even with their blemishes, the biggest thrill is the knowledge that this young author would later produce some of the most innovative and memorable books of the twentieth century. San Francisco Chronicle
An instructive view of Vonnegut s talent in the making. Publishers Weekly
When reading these stories, even with their blemishes, the biggest thrill is the knowledge that this young author would later produce some of the most innovative and memorable books of the twentieth century. San Francisco Chronicle
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