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Kurt Vonnegut ms, originally uploaded by Koosama.

Here’s the Paris Review Interview with Kurt Vonnegut from 1977. He talks in detail about his prisoner of war experience and the bombing of Dresden—scenes that will sound familiar to readers of Slaughterhouse Five.

Kurt Vonnegut died last night in Manhattan. He was 84.

He is survived by his novels Player Piano, Cat’s Cradle, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, Slaughterhouse Five, Breakfast of Champions, Slapstick, Jailbird, Mother Night, Deadeye Dick, Galapagos, Bluebeard,  Hocus Pocus, and Timequake.

In her review of Mother Night Doris Lessing wrote: “Precisely because in all his work he has made nonsense of the little categories, the unnatural divisions into “real” literature and the rest, because he is comic and sad at once, because his painful seriousness is never solemn, Vonnegut is unique among us; and these same qualities account for the way a few academics still try to patronize him: they cling to the categories. Of course they do: they invented them. But so it has ever gone.

“Ordinary people, with whole imaginations, reading the newspapers, the comic strips and Jane Austen or watching the world reel by on television, keep an eye out for Ice-9 while hoping that we are indeed recognizing the members of our karasses when they come near, try to make sure that we don’t pay more than what is due to the false karasses, and dare to believe that while there is life, there is still life–such readers know that Vonnegut is one of the writers who map our landscapes for us, who give names to the places we know best.”

Koosi, originally uploaded by Koosama.

Today is Koosi’s birthday. She was too busy stalking a lizard on the ceiling to have a proper picture taken. When she is not hunting, she likes to hide under curtains and furniture and take a swipe at whoever walks by.

Pakistani DVD Burner with Megaphone. From Foreign Policy., originally uploaded by Koosama.

From our correspondent: “Just take a stroll around the six blocks or so surrounding the Golden Mosque in Manila. Or any of the tiangge-malls around the city. And then read the news item below. What a difference! And there are myopic bureaucrats who accept “incentives” from Hollywood Big Media and want to close down the censorship-free “Quiapo cinematheque”.

“When the barangay heads of the Muslim quartier were called to a meeting by PGMA to stop selling Godard and Bertolucci films, they pointed out that because of the DVD market the neighborhood was crime-free for the first time in its history.

“Funny that like the site of the DVD-burning in Islamabad, Quiapo is also less than two kilometers away from the Presidential Palace.”

Here’s the piece from the Foreign Policy editors blog. “ISLAMABAD, PAKISTAN – APRIL 06: Students at an Islamic madrassa burn thousands of DVDs, videos and music CDs April 6, 2007 at the Lal Mosque in Islamabad, Pakistan. . .”

The unconsummated love affair of Ernest Hemingway and Marlene Dietrich, in thirty years of previously unpublished letters. She called him “Papa” (everyone did), he called her “The Kraut” (She fled Nazi Germany). They met on a luxury liner in the 1930s and began a correspondence which only ended with his suicide in 1961. She died fifteen years ago; her daughter decided to postpone publication of the letters until now. Dietrich was cinema’s femme fatale and Hemingway was a womanizer. He said they had an “unsynchronised passion”. The star of The Scarlet Empress and the author of For Whom The Bell Tolls never got together. Wait, isn’t that the plot of The Sun Also Rises?

“Why are we watching Miss Potter?” James asked. “Because Ewan McGregor is in it and he might take his clothes off,” I said. After all he does full frontal nudity at the slightest provocation (he was impressive in the ridiculous Pillow Book). No such luck—everyone in the movie was buttoned-up. Worse, Miss Potter turned out to be a Hallmark movie.

I’m worried about Ewan McGregor’s career. Why is he playing second banana in mediocrities like this? The moment he appeared as Renton not choosing life in Trainspotting it was obvious he was meant for great things. He played a lying, thieving junkie who betrays his friends, and he still had the audience on his side—that takes massive charm and talent. And he has a natural exuberance that just lights up the screen. I saw him in a documentary about polar bears, and even the critters liked him. Then he’s cast in the Star Wars prequels (which I regard as the betrayal of my generation), and before you know it he’s appeared in a string of duds. Maybe he needs to do another Baz Luhrman musical, or reteam with Nicole Kidman since they were fantastic in Moulin Rouge. Ewan! Don’t fritter it away! I know you love the road, but get off that motorcycle and make a great movie!