"He's gone to be with god"
Any true Vonnegut fan will know how fitting a tribute that is.
My first encounter with Vonnegut was in my last year of high school, when our literature teacher told us that each student must choose a different novel, and do a class report about it. I found this novel that had a picture of two scantily-clad women on the cover, in a sci-fi kind of scenario, and figured it would be easy, light reading.
It was "Sirens of Titan", one of Vonnegut's earlier novels. And I absolutely fell in love with it. It was superficially science fiction, but was really a social commentary, written in a style both humorous and cynical. From that day onwards, I was a die-hard Vonnegut fan.
Yeah, his work varied in quality -- not surprising, given the emotional ups and downs of his own life. But he was unflinchingly honest both in his evaluation of mankind, and (more difficult) in his evaluation of himself.
When I first started questioning my religious beliefs, and looked for something to replace it (other than the nebulous term of "atheist", which defines me only by what I don't believe, rather than what I do believe), it was Vonnegut who led me to Humanism (he himself was the president of the American Humanist Association).
He was a man who faced huge challenges in life. Much like the characters in his novels, sometimes he faced those challenges head-on; sometimes he faced them simply because he had no choice; and sometimes he ran away from them.
I was honored to see him in person at a rare public talk about his works; he was asked an inevitable question about his suicide attempt. He stated simply that it was an act of cowardice, but that he was entitled to be a coward. Then he went on to talk about how many people had gotten upset with him for trying to take "the easy way out". His response was that he never set himself up to be a role model for anyone, and whatever he chose to do with his life was "his own f**king business".
I don't think he ever set out to accomplish fame, and certainly not adulation. He was a troubled man, with a million questions about life, and about what it meant to be human. His musings about those questions (he rarely provided any answers) resulted in the many different books and essays that he produced over the years.
And I guess that's what I liked and respected most about Vonnegut. He presented himself, in all his weaknesses and uncertainties, exactly as he was. And in doing that, it helped me to understand that I was not alone in my own weaknesses and uncertainties, that they were in fact the common lot of humanity.
Vonnegut was the atheist's atheist; he was the skeptic's skeptic. He gave voice to the questions, fears, and uncertainties that so many others feel. His 'failure' to provide many answers wasn't a failure at all; it was just a pragmatic acceptance that this is part of the human condition, and that sometimes the man who shows the greatest wisdom is the one who simply admits "I don't know what the ◊◊◊◊ it means".
*an apology for the two instances of the f-word here; however, considering the context, and Vonnegut's own use of the word in exactly the same manner, I hope that it will be taken in the spirit it is offered*