![]() Kurt always retorted that he liked public school better. His mother railed against this injustice for most of Kurt’s school-going life, promising him that someday he’d return to private school. He had originally been enrolled in private school, but when his family lost all their money in the Great Depression, he was sent to public school. Kurt’s love for his hometown began when he was a young boy. If he did, he didn’t mean it. Kurt complimented the city of his birth much more than he criticized it. (How could you keep from loving those six-way intersections and haphazardly placed residential areas?) “Didn’t say it was the armpit of the universe?” said another visitor. One museum visitor said the city had the worst urban planning he had ever seen. People who aren’t Kurt Vonnegut seem to have plenty of reasons to dislike Indianapolis. Indianapolis refused even to acknowledge him until it declared 2007 the Year of Vonnegut, an event complicated somewhat by its honoree’s death less than halfway through it. The answer is that Kurt was born and raised in Indianapolis, and his family lived in the city for generations – his great-grandfather, Clemens Vonnegut, came here from Germany in 1850 – but after World War II, Kurt never lived here again. Many people ask us when they first enter the museum, “Why is there a Vonnegut museum in Indianapolis, of all places?” For those not familiar with Kurt’s early life, it’s a valid question. I have not yet read everything by Vonnegut, but I’m working on it. Please forgive me if I omit your favorite work in my discussion. This is the first in a planned series in which I, Emma the Intern, report Kurt Vonnegut’s opinion on a certain topic, drawing mostly on his published works. ![]()
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