It pains me to give Vonnegut anything less than 4 stars, but this book was not very good.

There were several good points in it that could be consolidated into less than 100 pages. Showing the stricture of a story (the idea that was rejected as his masters thesis) through the use of graph paper and the idea that writing takes patience instead of talent ... those were great. A lot of the other writing was fluff that lacked his sarcastic and humorous tone.

Vonnegut writes a hell of a blivit. This companion to 1974's "Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons" consists, like that earlier volume, largely of non-fiction in the form of essays, addresses, interviews, etc. And like its companion, it offers a wealth of insight into Vonnegut's fiction, with particular emphasis on autobiographical connections. You don't have to be a Vonnegut devotee, either, in order to enjoy "Palm Sunday," although his self-assessment of his novels (he assigns grades to each of them) is enlightening, even if you disagree with him. (Really? An "A" for "Jailbird?")

Among the highlights are his treatment for a musical based on "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," which is laugh-out-loud hilarious. Elsewhere, he demonstrates, strikingly, that the story arc of Cinderella matches that of the Bible. And his self-interview is priceless, classic Kurt.

If there is one prominent fault with this book, however, it's its length. The inclusion of a second-rate short story, an overly-long history of his family, and, arguably, one too many speeches, slows the pace. Although he might have shaved it down here and there to good effect, given his definition of a "blivit," perhaps there is some calculated (or at least knowing) poetic justice in overstuffing the front and back covers.

It is tempting to wonder how this book was viewed in light of his total output at the time it was first published, in 1981. He had, after all, released two weak novels in a row, and critics -- especially the hostile ones -- might have seen this as the fallback position of a writer well past his prime. It is interesting to note, in this regard, that "Palm Sunday" is replete with lamentations about his harsher critics, usually wrapped in a thin veneer of grudging humor. As it turned out, though, Vonnegut may have been down, but he was far from out.

I have been reading Kurt Vonnegut since high school, so going on 30 years. Only now, reading Palm Sunday, an autobiographical collection of essays, notes, letters, sketches, stories and interviews, first published in 1981, could I gain a more complete understanding of one of my favorite authors.

I now understand how autobiographical many of his other books are, with themes gleaned from his experiences. A Los Angeles Times book review said of Vonnegut – “He is either the funniest serious writer around or the most serious funny writer” and I don’t think I can do any better than that.

Palm Sunday is a must for a serious fan and a good book otherwise for anyone else.

There was a man in a restaurant, and he called the waiter over, and he said, 'Waiter - there is a needle in my soup.' And the waiter said to him, 'Oh sir, I am so sorry. That is a typographical error. It should have been a noodle.'"

Witty, self-aware, and at times a bit offensive, Vonnegut has captured a small piece of his brain for the world to read.

"Books are sacred to free men for very good reasons, and that wars have been fought against nations which hate books and burn them. If you are an American, you must allow ideas to circulate freely in your community, not merely your own."

"What troubles me most about my lovely country is that its children are seldom taught that American freedom will vanish, if, when they grow up, and in the exercise of their duties as citizens, they insist that our courts and policemen and prisons be guided by divine or natural law."

"Are we foolish to be so elated by books in an age of movies and television? Not in the least, for our ability to read, when combined with libraries like this one, makes us the freest of women and men--and children."

"Our freedom to say or write whatever we please in this country is holy to me. It is a rare privilege not only on this planet, but throughout the universe, I suspect. And it is not something somebody gave us. It is a thing we give to ourselves."

"What could be more essential in a pluralistic society like ours than that every citizen see dignity in every other human being everywhere?"

Published in 1981 by Delacorte Press.

Kurt Vonnegut offers this collection (he calls is a "collage") of fiction, non-fiction, interviews, and even a musical based on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

As is the case with all collections, some parts of the collection are excellent and some parts are not very good. I believe that he first half of the collection is the best, mostly because of the inclusion of a history of the Vonnegut family in Indianapolis. Ironically, it was not written by Vonnegut, but by a family member who had married into the Vonnegut family.

Indianapolis is my adopted hometown and this Vonnegut family history reads like a history of the city from the mid-1800s to the mid-1900s. I found it fascinating reading, especially the story of the subscription brothel gentlemen's club that was frequented by the city's elite in an area that still has political "clubs" with fancy dining and smoking rooms more than 100 years later. It would be tacky to pay a prostitute, but paying club dues that were used to maintain the club and also to pay the prostitutes - well that's not tacky at all!

The musical based on Jekyll and Hyde written in 1978 was completely horrible.

Vonnegut is well-known for having written a report card of his published books - this is the book that features that report card. Oftentimes, I disagree with his self-assessment - but not this time. He gives this book a "C" (yes, he graded the book as he was writing/collecting all of the parts of it) and I agree.

I rate this book 3 stars out of 5.

Ако очаквате високо интелектуална книга, сбъркали сте човека, тук Вонегът е циничен, груб, а на места и вулгарен – такъв какъвто не го бях виждала и очаквала. Хареса ми, макар и не толкова много колкото очаквах, но след като се отърсих от предварителната си нагласа успях да го видя такъв какъвто е, а той безспорно е изключително колоритен, макар че тук не е толкова забавен и остроумен, тук лекичко повдига завесата, за да ни покаже кой е истинският Вонегът, или и този път ни пързаля и ни се присмива отнякъде...
https://knijensviat.wordpress.com/201...

I enjoyed it, as with all other Vonnegut work. He rated himself in the book and gave Palm Sunday a “C”. He gives himself multiple D’s, for reference. I wouldn’t be so harsh. Entertainment value for me personally is always very high with vonnegut, and here as always, I find it fun to try to identify when he is joking or not before he shows his hand. Not as good as “Man without a country” but still worth the read for Vonnegut fans, for sure.

One of the things that I love about the Internet is that I can run across things that I wrote a while ago, read them, and be reminded of how dumb I can be. Kurt Vonnegut probably would have loved that too. But he's been stuck in the ground for a few years.
So it goes.
Sometimes I find something I like. When that happens, I realize that it lives there, on the Internet, and probably can't be converted to a piece of paper because it is an Internet creature. Unless one were to get a "Stuff White People Like" or "Shit My Dad Says" type book deal. Where do they hand those out?
But, I guess I should say a few words about the book I just read because that's what the computer tells me. Kurt (I feel entitled to call him that (what an * I am)) was a man that I respect. He was insanely clever and understood that everyone who ever lives is an * to some degree, but they just can't help it. They kill each other and they destroy the world, but some of them can make jazz music, and that has to count for something, right?
I will undoubtedly realize how dumb this comes across in a few days.
Thanks for the attention.

"Writers are unlucky speakers, by and large, which accounts for their being in a profession which encourages them to stay at their desks for years, if necessary, pondering what to say next and how best to say it."

Oh, Kurt, you really should have told your publisher you didn't have anything the year you put this together. Told him and your readers they'd have to wait until you had another story to tell. 

Kurt Vonnegut could spin a story and had a remarkable gift for putting it on paper. Those gifts did not extend into the public speaking realm though people still invited him to speak at graduations and whatnot anyhow. 

Maybe to hear him speak would be different than reading those speeches? One can hope.

This book consists mainly of speeches he delivered and essays about family and famous people he knew, excerpts from a genealogical book a cousin wrote, and yada yada yada. Had it been just about anyone but KV, I'd have DNF'ed this early on. 



However, I'm glad I stuck with it  because, along with a few gems of wit and wisdom scattered throughout, there were two parts that alone bumped the rating up from one to three stars.

First is his short story "The Space Fuck", which aside from being funny is also the first story (according to KV) to have "fuck" in its title. Friends and followers might recall that I normally dislike short stories (that says a lot, it being one of the best parts of this book for me), and also that "fuck" is one of my favourite words, partly because it's so unfairly maligned, but also because it's so versatile. Kudos to KV for smoothing the way for other writers.

Second is the eponymous chapter "Palm Sunday". It is the only speech in this book that I enjoyed, and it really made me laugh. It's brilliant. 

He gave this speech on a Palm Sunday at an Episcopal church (no doubt one of the very few to invite this atheist to speak) and it is about the story where Jesus is having dinner with his disciples and the sisters Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus. Poor Lazzy reeked after having lain dead in a grave for a few days. I guess Jesus used up so much of his magic raising him from the dead that he wasn't able to also stop the rot that had set in.

No wonder Martha had out the oil with which she was massaging Jesus' feet. She was trying to cover the unbearable stench emanating from Brother Lazarus.

Imagine that dinner. The overwhelming smell of rotting flesh. The maggot that dropped from poor Lazarus' half-eaten eyeball, plopping right into his soup. Because his eyeballs were half eaten, he couldn't see very well. Slurp! 

Ok, that's not at all what Kurt talked about in this speech but my imagination often takes me places I don't want to go, as friends and followers might also recall. 

So anyway, I wouldn't recommend this book unless you're a Vonnegut fan who wants to read all of his works. There are some readers who loved the book but I think if you want to try his nonfiction Man Without a Country is the one to read.

A bit of a disappointment considering my love for Vonnegut. This collection of speeches, letters and sketches indicate a lack of material when he had to write this, many of the chapters felt a bit like unnecessary anecdotes that gave me very little insight into Vonnegut himself. The only chapter I really enjoyed was “Religion”, in which he provided the satirical and humanity-deprecating humour that I love about him. Essentially all of my favourite quotes were in this chapter:

“The guesses we like best, as with so many things we like best, we’re taught to us in childhood-by people who loved us and wished us well. We are reluctant to criticize those guesses. It is an ultimate act of rudeness to find fault with anything which is given to us in a spirit of love. So a modern secular education is often painful. By it’s very nature, it invites us to question the wisdom of the ones we love. Too bad.” - 196

“Entire nations love to blow the hell out of other nations, and then to come like angels to pass out glass eyes and artificial limbs and Hershey bars and all that, to rebuild everything, to get everything going again. We would have to understand from the first scientific fact that any wound we inflict on the life-support systems of this planet is likely to be quite permanent. So anyone who wounded the planet, and the pretended to heal it, would simply be another hypocrite.” -203-204

“Nobody ever gets anywhere near close to the truth, which is this: the nuclear family doesn’t provide nearly enough companionship… I’ve tried, but I could never be a hundred people to you. You’ve tried, but you could never be a hundred people to me.” -206-207

“Any time I see a person fleeing from reason and into religion, I think to myself, there goes a person who simply cannot stand being so goddamned lonely anymore.” -215