Writers for a Plague Year — STEVEN HARDESTY

There are only two American novelists worth reading in a plague year, as in this our own year of coronavirus, and those two are Kurt Vonnegut and Richard Brautigan.

Vonnegut tells the truth about America, a hard truth to hear. Brautigan sings of the antique dream of America, making the hardest truth bearable. The telling and the singing are all any writer can do for us until we Americans get up off our asses and go do something about our problems and our mistakes.

Vonnegut disguises his bitter truth in comedy and the bizarre so he can insinuate the truth into a reader’s thinking. That works. When I’m feeling low and blue about the politics of pandemic and all the rest of the everyday bad news, it is Vonnegut’s sleek prodding that pushes me to seek ways to help drive this country toward its better self.

But, when I’m sunk in despair for all the craziness around me and bored sheltering-in-place against the coronavirus, it is Brautigan who lifts me up. He sings the old songs about the dream of America. Not of the American Dream, whatever that is today. But the antique dream of “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” That’s my America.

So let me give you some medical advice, from a fellow who never set foot in med school and feels sick at the sight of a needle: As we crawl through this frightening pandemic, and through the misery of the economic depression sure to follow, nothing can put more steel in your spine and more hope in your heart than a double dose of Vonnegut and Brautigan.

Cheers! and best of luck to you all.