Kurt, Hal and Mr. Clemens

I've always held a particular fondness for Kurt Vonnegut's Timequake. I was fortunate to get to hear him speak at my college around the time of its release, and his appearance and my reading of the book coincided. I recall recognizing many of his Timequake stories and phrases from that evening as he delivered them in person.

Several years later I caught him again at the same venue. The almost spry, professorial speaker I witnessed a few short years before had been replaced with one of a slower gait and more measured delivery. He still made quite an impression, though, and the mounting years and his declining health did little to diminish his embrace of humanity and many of its foibles.

I left the theater that night feeling that I would yet see him again. After all, this second appearance had been unexpected. But I did not. As many of you know, rumors of Vonnegut's demise last year were not exaggerated; Kurt had flown.

I've been making my way through Timequake again, at a leisurely pace. This is the first time I've read Vonnegut since he died and I find myself comforted by his humor and wisdom, yet missing his presence.

Vonnegut spoke of Mark Twain almost as a mentor or kindred spirit. Alas, they are no more, and that is why I jumped at the opportunity to see Hal Holbrook in Mark Twain Tonight! last night at the Temple Buell Theater. I was not disappointed.

Now in his eighties, Holbrook has outlived - in age - Twain by several years, though one could argue reaching your seventies in Twain's time was probably harder than it is to reach your eighties in ours.

Regardless, Holbrook cut a fine figure as Twain, a reformed southern gentleman of sorts. His portrayal of a world weary sort unable to completely suppress his own glimmer did recall the times I saw Vonnegut. Whereas Vonnegut carried himself as the wise and wisecracking everyman in tweed, Holbrook as Twain was lighter on his feet and a bit more unrepentant about the boyish rogue that lurked within him.

This boyishness cursed by age and knowledge held court throughout the evening. It shone through most obviously during his second act rendition of a scene from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Here Holbrook channeled Huck and Jim with an ease that led one to believe the man on stage had actually lived the events he was acting out. What more can you ask of an actor?

The bulk of the performance served as a forum for Twain's trademark and undeniably American wit. His partly cloudy take on the human race tried to leave no stone unturned, from drunks to wives, to teetotalers, to loafers and the overly ambitious. Above all, he made sure his quiver held special arrows for journalists, politicians and preachers. And he was not afraid to let fly!

Judging by the constant laughter of the packed house and the standing ovation he received at the close of the show, Holbrook clearly channeled Twain to great success. I left the theater feeling replenished, my own skepticism intact.

In tribute, the unrepentant boy in me made sure to stop off on my way home for a four-pack of root beer, some of which I polished off whilst watching some Looney Tunes when I got home. You know, Merry Melodies.

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As an addendum I would like to add that on my way home I did stop at the 16th Street Mall Barnes & Noble and was verily tempted to pick up some Twain by using my emergency, lifeline gift card. In the end I held off, and this morning I placed some Twain on hold through the public library. My lifeline remains intact!