The Paris Review Review
Jonathan Franzen, Franzen, The Art of Fiction Fiction No. 207 207 Interviewed by te!hen J. "#rn I$% &'(, )INT%R 20&0
Jonathan Franzen*s Franzen*s +ction bears the ar- of a idwest #!brin/in/, his his boo-s !reocc#!ied with #iet 1ives n#rt#red there and bro-en a!art by contact with the rest of the wor1d. "#t fo#r 1on/ nove1s n ove1s into an #n#s#a11y !#b1ic career, Franzen Franzen now oves abo#t the co#ntry #ite a bit, 1ivin/ ost of the year in New or-, or-, where he writes in an o3ce over1oo-in/ b#sy &2(th treet, and soe of it in a 1eafy co#nity on the o#ts-irts of anta 4r#z, where I et hi 5#st a few days before his ost recent nove1, Freedom, was re1eased. The sca1e of Freedom*s ra!t#ro#s rece!tion isn*t yet evident on the ornin/ of o#r +rst conversation, tho#/h the boo- has h as a1ready been ca11ed 6the nove1 of the cent#ry, and its a#thor has 5#st becoe the +rst writer in a decade to a!!ear on the cover of Time a/azine8 a visit to the )hite 9o#se is soon to coe. At the sae tie, two !o!#1ar fea1e nove1ists have been ar/#in/, via Twitter, that Franzen owes his stat#re to the !re5#dices and /ender asyetries of boo- reviewin/, and there are hints, too, that a broader bac-1ash is brewin/. :In ;ondon a few wee-s 1ater, he*11 have his /1asses sto1en by !ran-sters at a boo- !arty.< !arty.< As we drive thro#/h the ornin/ fo/, Franzen Franzen reco#nts both sides to e as if he has no vested interest in either !osition=his stance is that of a detached, and s1i/ht1y a#sed, observer. Jonathan Franzen Franzen was born in &'(', &'(', in )estern )estern !rin/s, I11inois, I11inois, and raised in )ebster )ebster >roves, a s#b#rb of t. ;o#is. The yo#n/est of three chi1dren, Franzen Franzen /rew #! in a hoe doinated by !ra/atic !arents=his father an en/ineer, his other a hoea-er=who saw 1itt1e va1#e in the arts and who enco#ra/ed hi to occ#!y hise1f instead with ore !ractica1 s#b5ects. A fascination with the sciences han/s over #ch of Franzen*s ear1y writin/, co!osed before his arriva1 at warthore 4o11e/e. ?ne #n!#b1ished story describes a visit fro Pytha/oras. An ear1y !1ay abo#t Isaac Newton was cha!ioned by a !hysics teacher at )ebster )ebster >roves 9i/h choo1. Franzen describes his +rst boo-, The Twenty-Seventh City :&'@@<, as a sci+ nove1 that is a11 f and no sci=a conce!tdriven onib#s +ction in which a /ro#! of inB#entia1 and !o1itica11y abitio#s Indians, 1ed by the forer !o1ice coissioner of "obay, in+1trate the b#rea#cracy of an #ns!ectac#1ar idwestern town and terrorize its residents. The Twenty-Seventh City is is set in his native t. ;o#is, b#t Franzen wrote the a5ority of the nove1 whi1e e!1oyed as a research assistant at 9arvard $niversity*s Ce!artent of %arth and P1anetary ciences, where he wor-ed cr#nchin/ data on seisic activity. activity. This eD!erience wo#1d enrich his second nove1, Strong Motion :&''2<, an intiate de!iction of a assach#setts fai1y whose
eotiona1 and econoic 1ives are disr#!ted by a series of #neD!ected earth#a-es in the "oston area. Franzen, as he s#Eered s# Eered Strong Motion si/na1ed the start of a t#rb#1ent decade for Franzen, !ersona1 1osses=the death of his father8 divorce fro a1erie 4orne11, his wife of fo#rteen years=and str#//1ed to coe to ters with the !#r!ose of writin/ +ction after his +rst two nove1s won critica1 !raise b#t disheartenin/1y few readers. Those str#//1es were the s#b5ect of #ch of the searchin/ non+ction he wrote d#rin/ the nineties, and his idcareer aster!iece The Corrections :200&< was the o#tcoe. The eD!ansive sa/a of a dis5ointed idwestern idwestern fai1y, The Corrections won the Nationa1 "oo- Award and the Jaes Tait "1ac- eoria1 Prize, and introd#ced Franzen, then a re1ative1y obsc#re a#thor of abitio#s +ction, to the broad a#dience of readers he had 1on/ been see-in/=a broader a#dience than any 1iterary nove1ist of his /eneration. The fo11owin/ interview interview too- !1ace over over two days in an o3ce borrowed borrowed fro fro the $niversity of 4a1ifornia, anta 4r#z. it#ated aid redwoods on the o#ntain ri above anta 4r#z and onterey "ay, the o3ce wo#1d have oEered an ocean view, b#t a a-eshift arran/eent of towe1s, bedsheets, and !i11ows had been en/ineered to b1oc- o#t the cobined dan/ers of 1i/ht and distraction. I!rovised window treatents aside, Franzen Franzen !refers his wor- s!ace to reseb1e RenGe eitche-*s ho#se in Strong Motion =a 6bare, c1ean !1ace. Aside fro a 1a!to!, the on1y !ersona1 ites in the roo were siD boo-s, arran/ed in a sin/1e !i1eH a st#dy of )i11ia Fa#1-ner, Friedrich Nietzsche*s Thus Spake Zarathustra Zarathustra , and fo#r wor-s by John teinbec-.
INT%RI%)%R 9ave yo# at#red as a writer FRAN%N )hen The Twenty-Seventh City was was bein/ is#nderstood, and when Strong Motion was fai1in/ to +nd an a#dience, I ass#ed that the !rob1e was not the writer b#t the wic-ed wor1d. "y the tie I was wor-in/ on Freedom, tho#/h, I co#1d see that soe of the conte!oraneo#s criticiss of those boo-s had !robab1y been va1id=that the +rst rea11y was overdefended and ineD!1icab1y an/ry, and that the !o1itics and thri11er !1ottin/ :and, a/ain, th e ineD!1icab1e an/er< of the second rea11y were soeties obtr#sive. The writer*s 1ife is a 1ife of revisions, and I cae to thinthat what needed revision were y own ear1ier boo-s. ?ne of the /reat !rob1es for the nove1ist who !ersists is the shorta/e of ateria1. )e a11 so1ve the !rob1e in diEerent ways8 soe !eo!1e do vo1#ino#s research on nineteenthcent#ry Per#. The 1iterat#re I* interested in and want to !rod#ce is abo#t ta-in/ the cover oE o#r s#!er+cia1 1ives and de1vin/ into the hot st#E #nderneath. After The Corrections I fo#nd yse1f thin-in/, )hat is y hot ateria1 y idwestern chi1dhood, y !arents, their arria/e, y own arria/e=I*d a1ready written two boo-s abo#t this st#E, b#t I*d been yo#n/er and scared and 1ess
s-i11ed when I wrote the. o one of the any !ro/ras in Freedom was to revisit the o1d ateria1 and do a better 5ob. INT%RI%)%R "etter how FRAN%N I #nderstand better how #ch of writin/ a nove1 is abo#t se1feDaination, se1f transforation. I s!end vast1y ore tie nowadays tryin/ to +/#re o#t what*s sto!!in/ e fro doin/ the wor-, tryin/ to +/#re o#t h ow I can becoe the !erson who can do the wor-, investi/atin/ the shae and fearH the shae of se1feD!os#re, the fear of ridic#1e or condenation, the fear of ca#sin/ !ain or har. That -ind of se1fana1ysis was entire1y absent with The Twenty-Seventh City , and a1ost entire1y absent with Strong Motion . It becae necessary for the +rst tie with The Corrections. And it becae the centra1 !ro5ect with Freedom=so #ch so that the act#a1 writin/ of !a/es was a1ost 1i-e a treat I was /iven after doin/ the rea1 wor-. INT%RI%)%R There was a nineyear inter1#de between those two nove1s. FRAN%N The Corrections cast a shadow. The ethods I*d deve1o!ed for it=the hy!er vivid characters, the inter1oc-in/nove11as str#ct#re, the 1eitotifs and eDtended eta!hors=I fe1t I*d eD!1oited as far as they co#1d be eD!1oited. "#t that didn*t sto! e fro tryin/ to write a Corrections1i-e boo- for severa1 years and ia/inin/ that si!1y chan/in/ the str#ct#re or writin/ in the +rst !erson co#1d s!are e the worof becoin/ a diEerent -ind of writer. o# a1ways reach for the easy so1#tion before yo#, in defeat, s#bit to the ore di3c#1t so1#tion.
There certain1y was no shorta/e of content by the idd1e of the 1ast decade. The co#ntry was in the toi1et, we*d becoe an internationa1 ebarrassent, and those ateria1istic aster 1an/#a/es that I*d oc-ed in The Corrections were becoin/ on1y ore asterf#1. And I sti11 had y own dee! a#tobio/ra!hica1 ateria1, which I*d e!1oyed in we11as-ed for in the +rst two nove1s. %vent#a11y I rea1ized that the on1y way forward was to /o bac-ward and en/a/e a/ain with certain very #ch #nreso1ved oents in y ear1ier 1ife. And that*s what the !ro5ect then becaeH to invent characters eno#/h #n1i-e e to bear the wei/ht of y ateria1 witho#t co11a!sin/ into characters too #ch 1i-e e. INT%RI%)%R o#r +rst !#b1ication was a co11aborative !1ay ca11ed The Fig Connection , which yo# wrote in hi/h schoo1. )hat interested yo# abo#t draa FRAN%N I* that oddity of a writer who had a /ood hi/hschoo1 eD!erience, and I did a 1ot of actin/ in vario#s !1ays. Theater for e was ain1y a way of havin/ f#n in /ro#!s, as
o!!osed to !airin/ oE into co#!1es who nec-ed a11 ni/ht in a bac- seat. It was a -ind of !ro1on/ed innocence. I wasn*t !artic#1ar1y in 1ove with the theater, and the !1ays that y friends and I wrote weren*t 1iterary. )e were 5#st a-in/ st#E #! for f#n. $nti1 I was twentyone, I had no conce!t of 1iterat#re, rea11y. INT%RI%)%R 9ad yo#r chi1dhood been innocent, too FRAN%N I a1ways seeed to be the 1ast !erson to +nd o#t abo#t thin/s that everybody e1se -new. I was 1itera11y sti11 !1ayin/ with b#i1din/ b1oc-s, a1beit artistica11y and with friends, d#rin/ y senior year in hi/h schoo1. INT%RI%)%R )as yo#r writin/ enco#ra/ed at hoe FRAN%N ost1y not, no. I hate the word creative, b#t it*s not a bad descri!tion of y !ersona1ity ty!e, and there was no !1ace for that in y !arents* ho#se. They considered art of a11 -inds, inc1#din/ creative writin/, frivo1o#s. Art was soethin/ I co#1d do in y free tie, and if I co#1d /et schoo1 credit for it, so #ch the better. "#t it was active1y disco#ra/ed as a serio#s !#rs#it. y !arents were disayed and !er!1eDed and an/ry when y o1der brother To sto!!ed st#dyin/ architect#re and a5ored in +1, and when he went to the Art Instit#te in 4hica/o and /ot an .F.A. To was the on1y wor-in/ artist I -new, and I ido1ized hi and wanted to be 1i-e hi, rather than 1i-e y !arents. "#t I*d seen the /rief he*d /otten fro the, so I -e!t y own !1ans secret for as 1on/ as !ossib1e. y dad, a1tho#/h he didn*t /et a /ood fora1 ed#cation, was treendo#s1y sart and c#rio#s. 9e read to e every ni/ht thro#/ho#t y ear1y chi1dhood, a1ways y dad, not y o. 9avin/ /rown #! bathed ni/ht1y in his stron/ o!inions, I becae a fair1y o!inionated !erson yse1f and was ha!!y to be ab1e to -ee! hi co!any. 9e read Time a/azine cover to cover every wee-, and we ta1-ed abo#t whatever was /oin/ on in the wor1d. o, stran/e1y, there was a 1ot of inte11ect#a1 disc#ssion in that otherwise #ninte11ect#a1 ho#se. "#t there were no 1iterary boo-s on y !arents* she1ves. I had no cate/ory for what I wanted to do, and this was the /reat eDciteent of writin/ The Fig Connection , seein/ how we11 it wor-ed as a st#dent draa, and then, wonder of wonders, /ettin/ it !#b1ished. This was the oent when a wor1d of !ossibi1ity o!ened #!H I reeber thin-in/, I* act#a11y /ood at writin/=and isn*t this f#n INT%RI%)%R It so#nds 1i-e f#n was an i!ortant !art of yo#r ear1y writin/. FRAN%N
F#n is sti11 an i!ortant !art of writin/. I want to brin/ !1eas#re with everythin/ I write. Inte11ect#a1 !1eas#re, eotiona1 !1eas#re, 1in/#istic !1eas#re, aesthetic !1eas#re. I have in y ind +ve h#ndred eDa!1es of nove1s that have /iven e !1eas#re, and I try to do wor- that /ives bac- soe of what those +ve h#ndred boo-s have /iven e. The e!i/ra!h of Strong Motion is ta-en fro Isaac "ashevis in/er, who is very si!atico in this re/ard. 9is Nobe1 s!eech, in which he asserts that the storyte11er*s !riary res!onsibi1ity is to entertain, ade a dee! i!ression on e. INT%RI%)%R Co yo# fee1 b#rdened by that ob1i/ation to entertain FRAN%N ore otivated than b#rdened. It*s hard to fee1 b#rdened by the -now1ed/e that !1eas#resee-in/ !eo!1e are act#a11y 1oo-in/ forward to y neDt boo-. For the +rst ha1f of y career, tho#/h, I had a very !oor sense of who these !eo!1e i/ht be. oe snar-y !erson in %n/1and once acc#sed e of writin/ the Harper’s essay 6)hy "other as ar-et research. INT%RI%)%R 9ow did yo# fee1 abo#t that FRAN%N )e11, in a narrow sense, he was abso1#te1y ri/ht. )hen yo#r +rst two nove1s haven*t fo#nd #ch of an a#dience, it a-es sense to sto! and try to +/#re o#t who might read a 1iterary nove1 nowadays, and why th ey i/ht be doin/ it. And +ndin/ an a#dience has #n#estionab1y chan/ed the way I write. If there*s a diEerent fee1 to Freedom than to The Corrections , it*s not #nre1ated to havin/ et however any tho#sand readers on vario#s boo- to#rs. These are the !eo!1e who are readin/ boo-s, carin/ abo#t boo-s, and botherin/ to coe o#t on a rainy T#esday ni/ht to hear soebody read a1o#d, as to a chi1d, and then standin/ for ha1f an ho#r waitin/ to /et a scribb1e on the tit1e !a/e of a boo- they*ve s!ent oney for. These !eo!1e are y friends. I* one of the yse1f. I once stood in a 1on/ si/nin/ 1ine to /et +ve seconds with )i11ia >addis, 5#st so I co#1d te11 hi how /reat I tho#/ht The Recognitions was. Not everythin/ in the wor1d needs to be 1a#/hed an/ri1y at, yo# rea1ize. There t#rn o#t to be ore eotions avai1ab1e to a wor-in/ writer than I i/ht have /#essed ear1ier on. And one of the i/ht be 1ove =1ove and /ratit#de. I /ot a 1ot of attention as a -id beca#se everyone e1se in the ho#se was so #ch o1der than e. It was !robab1y too #ch attention=that can be a b#rden=b#t one res#1t is that I 1i-e attention. I 5#st 1i-e attention, I doK "#t it*s co#nterba1anced by a need and cravin/ to be a1one ost of the tie. This is one reason I*ve fo#nd bein/ a writer a very s#itab1e !rofession. o# have the !ossibi1ity of /reat b#rsts of satisfyin/ attention, and then yo#*re 1eft a1one. INT%RI%)%R
)hen did yo# be/in to thin- of yo#rse1f as a writer FRAN%N I had a notion of yse1f as a writer1y !erson by the tie I /ot to co11e/e, which eant that there were two thin/s I co#1d doH I co#1d /o o#t for the news!a!er, and I co#1d send thin/s to the co11e/e 1iterary a/azines. I did both. "#t I hated bein/ a 5o#rna1ist, beca#se I was too shy to do interviews. I once /ot y friend To 95e1 and e in tro#b1e by a-in/ hi do an interview with the vice !resident of the co11e/e, as !art of a news story I was writin/, and then twistin/ the vice !resident*s words to a-e hi 1oo- bad. In any ways, 95e1 was the to#/hest critic I ever had. 9e was an %. ". )hite worshi!er, and he 1oved to ridic#1e y worst sentences. )e read each other*s !a!ers, too=there was a #t#a1a!!renticeshi! #a1ity to o#r friendshi!. INT%RI%)%R )as there a sii1ar #a1ity to yo#r readin/ FRAN%N It s1ow1y becae ore serio#s in the co#rse of fo#r years of co11e/e. I*d read a 1ot as a -id=ei/ht ho#rs a day a11 s#er, soe s#ers=b#t it was ost1y ysteries and !o!#1ar science and science +ction. Then, beca#se I went to co11e/e as a !ros!ective !hysics a5or, I too- on1y one c1ass in % n/1ish 1iterat#re d#rin/ y +rst three years, a s#rvey of the odern %n/1ish nove1. Predictab1y, I was ost sitten with Iris #rdoch. I was ei/hteen, and Severed Head seeed to e a !rofo#nd and i!ortant boo-. The one writer I co!1ete1y co#1dn*t stand was C. 9. ;awrence. I wanted to -i11 hi for havin/ inBicted Sons and !overs on e. #ch 1ater, I went bac- and read the boo- a/ain, or read ha1f of it, beca#se I fe1t that the Joey and Patty ateria1 in Freedom had soe -inshi! with the ore1s. And I co#1d see why I*d hated it when I was ei/hteenH It hit way too c1ose to hoe. "#t fran-1y I sti11 fo#nd it -ind of #nbearab1e. I wanted to say to ;awrence, No, yo# have not fo#nd a way not to a-e rs. ore1*s seD#a1ized en/#1fent of her son ic-y and eDcr#ciatin/. In a way, it*s /reat and heroic that ;awrence was wi11in/ to write s#ch an eDcr#ciatin/ boo-, to 1ay it a11 o#t there. "#t for e the boo- a1so becae a shinin/ eDa!1e of how not to a!!roach this radioactive ateria1=a reinder of the !ressin/ need to +nd a str#ct#re and a tone and a !oint of view that wo#1d ironize it eno#/h to a-e it "un. y rea1 !rob1e with the s#rvey c1ass was that I was too yo#n/ for it. ;i-e ost ei/hteenyearo1ds, I didn*t have eno#/h eD!erience to #nderstand what the sta-es even were in ad#1t 1iterat#re. "eca#se I hadn*t /rown #! in a ho#seho1d that !1aced any va1#e on c#1t#re, 1iterat#re was 5#st a /ae to e, and writin/ was 5#st a craft that I ho!ed to a-e a 1ivin/ with soeday. I wrote whatever the news!a!er editors assi/ned e to write and wor-ed on y sentences. INT%RI%)%R Co yo# reca11 any !ieces in !artic#1ar
FRAN%N The !iece I had the ost f#n with was a fa11 ca!#sfashion !review. I wrote it as a 5o-e, in very ornate !rose. INT%RI%)%R There are severa1 fashion artic1es in the archive. FRAN%N evera1 artic1es >ood ;ord. I was havin/ a bad tie at schoo1. Those fashion !ieces !robab1y cae o#t of a wish to anta/onize. INT%RI%)%R A bad tie FRAN%N I had bad dor roos, and I*d 1anded in a n erdy sit#ation as a !ros!ective !hysics a5or. There were very few c#te /ir1s, and those few had no interest in e. y on1y si/ni+cant abition was to /et 1aid, and I was fai1in/ s!ectac#1ar1y at it, for reasons now obvio#s to e b#t co!1ete1y invisib1e at the tie. I tho#/ht abo#t transferrin/ to a diEerent schoo1, b#t then I rea1ized that if I a5ored in >eran I co#1d /o to %#ro!e for a year, and that thin/s i/ht be better there. Thin/s were not better there, at 1east not /ir1wise. "#t I cae bac- to the tates 1ess o#tra/eo#s1y iat#re. And every once in a whi1e a !erson*s 1ife fee1s 1i-e a nove1, and the ei/ht wee-s in the idd1e of y 1ast year of co11e/e were a tie 1i-e that. %verythin/ cae to/ether #ic-1y, a11 the st#E that had been 1atent s#dden1y crysta11ized, and I fe1t transfored in the s!ace of ei/ht wee-s. I becae a h#an bein/. "y the end of that Jan#ary, I was havin/ seD with the !erson I wo#1d end #! arried to for fo#rteen years, and I*d becoe a deterined, foc#sed writer who wanted to do nothin/ b#t write abitio#s nove1s. INT%RI%)%R )hat had ha!!ened FRAN%N I wrote abo#t it in The #iscom"ort Zone =y discovery, as Ri1-e !#ts it in The $ote%ooks o" Ma&te !aurids 'rigge , that I had an interior 1ife I*d !revio#s1y -nown nothin/ abo#t. It had to do with readin/ Ri1-e and Maf-a and the other odern >eran !rose writers, and it had to do with y brother To. It had to do with havin/ been away fro y fai1y for so 1on/=with coin/ bac- and s#dden1y bein/ ab1e to see the in the fraewor- that the >eran oderns had /iven e. It had to do with fa11in/ in 1ove. INT%RI%)%R )hat abo#t yo#r brother
FRAN%N I was in dee! e#1ation of To, who had be/#n as a sti11 !hoto/ra!her and then oved into avant/arde +1. I adired To*s e#i!ent, as it were. Ri/ht before I*d /one to >erany, I*d wor-ed for hi as a 1aborer in 4hica/o and had ade eno#/h oney to b#y a 1itt1e ?1y!#s, the sa11est ;R on the ar-et, which I too- to %#ro!e and tried to do art !hoto/ra!hy with. I wanted to ta-e odd !ict#res, es!ecia11y ones of the ind#stria1 areas, a/ain in e#1ation of To, who had an #rbanind#stria1 aesthetic. "#t I a1ways had an #neasy re1ationshi! with !ict#res. I co#1d never +/#re o#t what I was tryin/ to do with !hoto/ra!hy. ;andsca!e !hoto/ra!hy in !artic#1arH ?h, it*s a !retty s#nset. ?h, that*s a !retty roc- foration. )ho the f#c- cares I*d coe to associate it with what I !erceived as y other*s obsession with a!!earances=her dictatin/ what I wore to schoo1, her constant f#ssin/ with the decoration of o#r ho#se, her shae abo#t havin/ -ids who were diEerent fro her friends* -ids, the /enera1 barrenness of worryin/ so #ch abo#t s#rfaces. A !ersistent fantasy I had thro#/ho#t y 1ate teens and twenties was that I was bein/ fo11owed with a caera, and that !eo!1e who hadn*t res!ected e eno#/h, /ir1s who hadn*t wanted e, wo#1d see where I was now and be i!ressed. It was an awf#1 reverie, beca#se I co#1d fee1, even as I was havin/ it, that it was an inheritance of that obsession with s#rfaces. In the s!rin/ of y 5#nior year in %#ro!e, To had coe over and trave1ed with e, and when we were in i1an his ovie caera was sto1en. "y the fo11owin/ 4hristas, it was c1ear that he wasn*t /oin/ to /et a new one. 9e*d /iven #! +1a-in/, and I now had the b#rden and the o!!ort#nity to be the fai1y artist. And, s!eci+ca11y, to be a writer, /iven y disenchantent with ia/es. INT%RI%)%R Is that obsession with a!!earances sti11 a concern to yo# FRAN%N %Dhibitionis is a !rob1e for any writer. The cravin/ for an a#dience, co#!1ed with the shae of eD!osin/ yo#rse1f to it. This is st#E that I was a1ways torented by and have been wor-in/ thro#/h as recent1y as in Freedom. "#t I had a11 the c1#es I needed in >erany, in NietzscheH 6%verythin / that is dee! 1oves the as-. The Twenty-Seventh City is one bi/ as-. And the 1on/ter abition for a11 y wor- has been to +nd better and better as-s=to +nd the eans to a-e visib1e and fee1ab1e the #nsayab1e thin/s inside e. INT%RI%)%R 9ow did yo# acco!1ish it FRAN%N I was a s-inny, scared -id tryin/ to write a bi/ nove1. The as- I donned was that of a rhetorica11y airti/ht, eDtree1y sart, eDtree1y -now1ed/eab1e idd1ea/ed
writer. To write abo#t what was rea11y /oin/ on in e with res!ect to y !arents, with res!ect to y wife, with res!ect to y sense of se1f, with res!ect to y asc#1inity=there was 5#st no way I co#1d brin/ that to the s#rface. I*d tried writin/ abo#t it direct1y in short stories before I /ot /oin/ with The Twenty-Seventh City , and I 5#st hadn*t had the cho!s to /et at it, didn*t have eno#/h distance on it, didn*t #nderstand it we11 eno#/h. o I !#t on the as- of a idd1ea/ed !ostodern writer. ;oo-in/ bac- now, I see a twenty+ve year o1d with a very co!roised sense of asc#1inity, of his own a1eness. There was a direct transfer of 1ibido to the brain= this was y way of 1eavin/ the !enis o#t of the e#ation and /oin/ with what I -new I had, which was that I was sarter than ost !eo!1e. It had been dr#ed into e by y dadH 6o# are sarter than ost !eo!1e. 9e fe1t hise1f to be sarter than ost !eo!1e, !robab1y ri/ht1y so. 9e fe1t that it had ta-en hi too 1on/ to +/#re this o#t, and he said to e, any ties, 6Con*t a-e the ista-e I ade. o I set a 1ot of store in bein/ brainy. And satire was !artic#1ar1y a!!ea1in/, beca#se, +rst, it was f#nny, and I a1ways 1i-ed to be f#nny, and, second, yo# didn*t have to ta-e res!onsibi1ity for /eneratin/ yo#r own faith, yo#r own core be1iefs. o# co#1d si!1y eD!ose the endacity and fa1seness of others. It was a way for the baby of his fai1y=who*d been s#rro#nded, as a -id, by three !owerf#1 a1e !resences=to eDercise soe -ind of astery and c#t other !eo!1e down to size. And, no 1ess i!ortant, it was a way to i/nore the aterna1 side of the e#ation. C#rin/ those aazin/ winter wee-s of &'@0 and &'@&, y other had 1itera11y been ade sic-, serio#s1y i11, by news abo#t the seD 1ife of one of y brothers. I*d seen +rsthand that the ere eD!ression of overt asc#1ine seD#a1ity co#1d !#t a woan in the hos!ita1K o it*s rea11y no wonder that inte11ect !resented itse1f as a safer a1ternative in The Twenty-Seventh City . -
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In the 1ater boo-s, as I be/an to !#t the worst of y own Sons and !overs !sychodraas behind e, I reached for diEerent -inds of as-s. The reason it too- so 1on/ to do Freedom was that the as-s not on1y had to be eDtree1y 1ife1i-e b#t a1so had to be invented o#t of who1e c1oth, beca#se, a/ain, after #ch tryin/ and fai1in/, I*d seen that there was no way I co#1d write direct1y abo#t certain centra1 !arts of y own eD!erience, y eD!erience with y o and y eD!erience in y arria/e. )hat ade direct reve1ation i!ossib1e was !art1y y sense of shae and !art1y a wish to !rotect third !arties, b#t it was ost1y beca#se the ateria1 was so hot that it defored the writin/ whenever I cae at it direct1y. And so, 1ayer by 1ayer, I b#i1t #! the as-s. ;i-e with !a!ierchG, stri! after stri!, o1din/ ever ore 1ife1i-e feat#res, in order to !erfor the otherwise #n!erforab1e !ersona1 draa. INT%RI%)%R The as- is a way to convey tr#th, rather than to concea1 it. FRAN%N es. "#t a1so reco/nizin/, cr#cia11y, that the aor!ho#s, #nconscio#s, na-ed so#1 is a horror. The ost terrifyin/ scene in Ri1-e*s Ma&te !aurids 'rigge is the one in which a1te, as a boy, starts !#ttin/ on !arty as-s fro a tr#n- in his fai1y*s attic, one
after another, #nti1 +na11y one of the ta-es contro1 of hi. 9e sees his as-ed se1f in the irror and /oes oentari1y insane with terror that there is no hi, there*s on1y the as-. ears 1ater, as an ad#1t, wa1-in/ aro#nd in Paris, he sees a woan on a !ar- bench who !#ts her face in her hands and then 1oo-s #! with a na-ed face, a horrifyin/ Nothin/, havin/ 1eft the as- in her hands. Ma&te is essentia11y the story of a yo#n/ writer wor-in/ thro#/h a fear of as-s to a reco/nition of their necessity. Ri1-e antici!ated the !ostodern insi/ht that there is n o !ersona1ity, there are 5#st these vario#s intersectin/ +e1dsH that !ersona1ity is socia11y constr#cted, /enetica11y constr#cted, 1in/#istica11y constr#cted, constr#cted by #!brin/in/. )here the !ostoderns /o wron/ is in !ositin/ a n#11ity behind a11 that. It*s n ot a n#11ity, it*s soethin/ raw and fri/htenin/ and botto1ess. It*s what #ra-ai /oes 1oo-in/ for in the we11 in The (ind-up 'ird Chronic&e . To i/nore it is to deny yo#r h#anity. INT%RI%)%R The deve1o!ent of the Aerican writer today ost ty!ica11y ta-es !1ace within the #niversity, in creativewritin/ !ro/ras. Cid yo# consider that ro#te FRAN%N I /ot arried instead to a to#/h reader with /reat taste. )e had o#r own 1itt1e ro#ndthec1oc- .F.A. !ro/ra. This !hase of o#r arria/e went on for abo#t siD years, which is three ties 1on/er than the #s#a1 !ro/ra. P1#s, we didn*t have to dea1 with a11 the st#!id res!onses to writin/ that wor-sho!s /enerate. )e did act#a11y a!!1y to soe !ro/ras one year, in ho!es of /ettin/ a #niversity to s#!!ort #s +nancia11y, and we were both acce!ted at "rown. "#t the oney "rown oEered wasn*t /ood eno#/h. In hindsi/ht, I* /1ad I didn*t /o, beca#se it i/ht have soothed soe -in-s o#t of the wor- that were better not soothed o#t. As a 5o#rna1ist, I* a1ways strivin/ to becoe ore !rofessiona1, b#t as a +ction writer I*d rather reain an aate#r. INT%RI%)%R Cid yo# devise another -ind of !ro/ra for yo#rse1ves Cid yo# /o to readin/s FRAN%N No, we didn*t want to be aro#nd other writers. In soe seiconscio#s way, we reco/nized that we weren*t /ood yet, and we needed to !rotect o#rse1ves fro de!ressin/ eD!os#re to !eo!1e who*d a1ready /otten to be /ood. INT%RI%)%R )hat boo-s were yo# readin/ in those years FRAN%N %verythin/. I read +ction fo#r or +ve ho#rs a ni/ht every ni/ht for +ve years. )or-ed thro#/h Cic-ens, the R#ssians, the French, the oderns, the !ostoderns. It was 1i-e a ret#rn to the 1on/ readin/ s#ers of y yo#th, b#t now I was readin/ 1iterat#re, /ettin/ a sense of a11 the ways a story co#1d be ade.
"#t the !ria1 boo-s for e reained the ones I*d enco#ntered in the fa11 of &'@0H Ma&te, 'er&in &e)anderp&at* , The Magic Mountain , and, above a11, The Tria&. In each of these boo-s the f#ndaenta1 story is the sae. There are these s#!er+cia1 arran/eents8 there is the 1ife we thin- we have, this very #ch socia11y constr#cted 1ife that is cofortab1e or #ncofortab1e b#t nonethe1ess what we thinof as 6o#r 1ife. And there*s soethin/ e1se #nderneath it, which was re!resented by a11 of those >eran1an/#a/e writers as Ceath. There*s this awf#1 tr#th, this as-1ess se1f, #nder1yin/ everythin/. And what was stri-in/ abo#t a11 fo#r of those /reat boo-s was that each of the fo#nd the draa in b1owin/ the cover oE a 1ife. o# start with an individ#a1 who is in soe way defended, and yo# stri! away or 5#st eD!1ode the s#rface and force that character into confrontation with what*s #nderneath. This was very strai/htforward1y and eD!1icit1y the !ro/ra with The Twenty-Seventh City , to ta-e the we11defended Probst and stri! away and stri! away. INT%RI%)%R And yo# saw artin Probst as a !ara11e1 to Jose!h M. FRAN%N es, in y own v#1/ar readin/ of Maf-a, I did. #dden1y one day, for no reason, there were a b#nch of Indians in t. ;o#is, and they were cons!irin/ to r#in Probst*s 1ife. INT%RI%)%R I reca11 readin/ that yo# 1abored over the be/innin/ of The Twenty-Seventh City = wrote and rewrote it=and then wrote the +na1 sta/es= FRAN%N ost of the boo-. INT%RI%)%R ost of the boo-, #ite #ic-1y. FRAN%N I*d started by wor-in/ for onths and onths on the +rst cha!ter, which was abo#t Probst wa1-in/ his do/ and thin-in/ with c#1!ab1y eDtree satisfaction abo#t his acco!1ishents. I !o#red co#nt1ess ho#rs into very !#r!1e sentences describin/ the bea#ty of the 1i/ht in )ebster >roves, y hoetown, on a 1ate wee-day afternoon. It was a cha!ter that ended with the death of the do/. It was terrib1y overwritten. INT%RI%)%R )hat do yo# ean by overwritten FRAN%N Tryin/ to do too #ch with a sentence. I was very #ch sti11 #nder the s!e11 of the >erans. o# can do thin/s in >eran with sentence str#ct#re that are 1ess
advisab1e in %n/1ish=!ac- in a11 sorts of syntactica1 e1eents before the +na1 verb. I was !1ayin/ with 1an/#a/e and with the !ossibi1ities of so#nd, a1tho#/h not so #ch with a11iteration. I*d read Ra%%it+ Run at a certain !oint and s!ent a co#!1e of wee-s bein/ hi/h1y a11iterative before coin/ to y senses and rea1izin/ that not on1y was y a11iteration bad, $!di-e*s was, too. I was doin/ a 1ot of !#nnin/, tho#/h. I was very attached at that yo#n/ a/e to !#re 1in/#istic !1ay, and b1issf#11y #naware of how it i/ht a11 read. I tho#/ht the conce!t of y boo-, the #nfo1din/ of a cons!iracy, o#/ht to be stron/ eno#/h to dra/ the reader thro#/h any ao#nt of 1in/#istic !1ayf#1ness. I was reachin/8 I was writin/ abo#t st#E I didn*t rea11y -now anythin/ abo#t and tryin/ to incor!orate every scra! of inforation and interestin/ observation I*d ever had. I wo#1d write as any !a/es as I co#1d in a day. I once wrote seventeen !a/es in a day. And those seventeen !a/es are in the +nished boo-. )hen I /ot ro11in/, y deterination to /et the boo- done and have it be /ood and /et it !#b1ished was so stron/ that I had 1iit1ess ener/y. The +nished an#scri!t was thirteen h#ndred !a/es. I was twenty+ve. INT%RI%)%R o#*ve said yo# were writin/ ei/ht ho#rs a day. FRAN%N I co#1d do ten soeties. INT%RI%)%R %ven when thin/s weren*t wor-in/ FRAN%N I didn*t have the eD!erience of thin/s n ot wor-in/. I didn*t -now eno#/h to -now when soethin/ wasn*t a11 that /ood. The cha!ters 5#st cae c1atterin/ o#t. INT%RI%)%R I* str#c- by the n#ber of drea se#ences in The Twenty-Seventh City . FRAN%N ore and ore, I thin- of nove1 writin/ as a -ind of de1iberate dreain/. John >ardner described nove1s as 6vivid, contin#o#s dreas, and tho#/h I* not s#re >ardner ever wrote a !artic#1ar1y eDce11ent nove1, he was ri/ht abo#t the notion of the drea. A notion reinforced by y fee1in/ that a11 of Maf-a*s +ction reads 1i-e transcribed dreas. ost of the dreas in The Twenty-Seventh City were dreas I*d had yse1f. I wanted their #ncanniness beca#se I was tryin/ to write an #ncanny boo-. A booabo#t a-in/ stran/e a fai1iar !1ace. And the fastest ro#te to #ncanniness is to fa11 as1ee! and have a drea in which everythin/ is at once fai1iar and stran/e. That
was the fee1 I was after in that boo-H )hat -ind of weird, s#rrea1 wor1d have I fa11en into here, in the ost borin/ of idwestern cities If the dreas are fa11in/ away in the 1ater boo-s, I*d 1i-e to thin- it*s beca#se I* /ettin/ better at a-in/ the boo- itse1f the drea. As I becoe ore cofortab1e with accessin/ the !riary !sychic st#E inside e, and +ndin/ ade#ate draatic vehic1es for it, the need for the 1itera1 drea !robab1y diinishes. INT%RI%)%R 9ow did yo# co!ose the boo- FRAN%N I ty!ed The Twenty-Seventh City on a i1ver Reed ty!ewriter. Then I set the booaside for near1y a year whi1e I tried to +nd an a/ent. In hindsi/ht, the res!onses of the to!drawer a/ents I*d sent it to see rear-ab1y /racio#s, a1tho#/h I didn*t eD!erience the that way at the tie. >1oria ;oois to1d e on the !hone, with a 1itt1e 1a#/h, 6I*11 /et bac- to yo# when I*ve read the second= %o) . That*s when I did a trans1ation of Spring wakening , and I was wor-in/ on soe short stories a/ain, with no ore s#ccess than before. )hen I str#c- o#t with the a/ents, I ca11ed #! the on1y writer I had any !ersona1 connection to, 9#/h Nissenson, the nove1ist, and he !roceeded to froth at the o#th for an ho#r abo#t how st#!id and corr#!t the !#b1ishin/ ind#stry was, and how 1azy certain we11 -nown writers were=it was soewhat ebittered frothin/. Then he as-ed e, 69ow 1on/ is the boo- And I to1d hi, and he said, 6I* not /oin/ to read yo#r boo-, b#t I can te11 yo# ri/ht now it*s two ties too 1on/. o#*ve /ot to /o bac- and c#t it by ha1f. Then he said, 6Is there a 1ot of seD in it There*s /otta be a 1ot of seD in it. It was a wonderf#1 /ift. I set down the !hone and !ic-ed #! the an#scri!t, which I hadn*t 1oo-ed at in ei/ht onths, and I said, 6y >od, there*s two h#ndred !a/es that I can c#t in ha1f an ho#r. I 5#st s#dden1y saw it. I s#dden1y ade the connection between y needs as a reader and what I was doin/ as a writer, which I had never ade before. That in fact I was not interested in !#nishin/ the reader, beca#se I didn*t en5oy bein/ !#nished yse1f. If I wanted the boo- to be read, it needed to ove, and so I had to a-e the c#ts to a-e it ove. INT%RI%)%R Cavid Foster )a11ace wrote to yo# in the s#er of &'@@, after readin/ The TwentySeventh City . FRAN%N es. INT%RI%)%R )hen did yo# eet FRAN%N
I don*t thin- we s#cceeded in eetin/ # nti1 &''0. I was away in %#ro!e for a year, and he Ba-ed on o#r +rst two a!!ointents to eet, for reasons that becae c1earer 1ater. It*s a te11ta1e si/n of a s#bstance !rob1e when !eo!1e don*t show #!. INT%RI%)%R )as this yo#r +rst friendshi! with another writer FRAN%N )e11, a!art fro y wife, yes. Aro#nd the sae tie, I a1so /ot to -now "i11 o11ann, who was 1ivin/ in New or- then. INT%RI%)%R And what diEerence did this a-e FRAN%N It*s a11 bo#nd #! in the story of y arria/e, which I rea11y wo#1d !refer not to /et into here. "#t, brieBy !#t, it was a very heretic arria/e, and si!1y to be in conversation with other !eo!1e who I tho#/ht were doin/ /ood wor-=and a1so to /et their ta-e on y arita1 sit#ation=was h#/e. oon after that, I /ot to -now Cavid eans, too. o ri/ht aro#nd the be/innin/ of the nineties I s#dden1y had three a1e writer friends, as o!!osed to none. And beca#se I was enterin/ a !eriod of radica1 do#bt abo#t the !oint of writin/ 1iterary nove1s, it was an incredib1e b1essin/ to ta1- with other !eo!1e who were abitio#s and tho#/htf#1 and ta1ented, who were dedicatin/ their 1ives to tryin/ to write /ood boo-s. INT%RI%)%R o#*ve said that yo# and )a11ace corres!onded abo#t +ction 1ess than !eo!1e i/ht eD!ect. FRAN%N At a certain !oint, yo# /et to be /ood eno#/h friends that yo# !ic- #! the !hone rather than writin/ a 1etter. The 1etterwritin/ !hase is sort of a 6fee1in/ o#t each other*s !osition !hase. I cae into those conversations with a fee1in/ of an #nattractive1y eDtree ra/e a/ainst 1iterary theory and the !o1iticization of acadeic %n/1ish de!artents. It was re1ated to y /rowin/ anta/onis toward a stat#s ode1 of the nove1=the idea that a nove1*s hi/hest achieveent is to be read and st#died by scho1ars. And yet y own atte!ts to connect with a 1ar/er a#dience had so far fai1ed. Cave was very cofortab1e in the acadey, b#t he hise1f was /oin/ thro#/h eD!eriences that were a-in/ c1ear that there was ore to 1ife than !rod#cin/ interestin/ teDts that a sa11 n#ber of very sart readers i/ht en/a/e with. 9is own 1ife was in crisis, and he was coin/ into new ateria1, his a#thentic !ersona1 ateria1, and so he, too, we1coed a conversation abo#t how to ove beyond !#re inte11ect#a1 !1ay into rea1s of, for want of a better word, eotiona1 si/ni+cance. The !oint of a/reeent that he and I event#a11y reached was the notion of 1one1inessH that +ction is a !artic#1ar1y eEective way for stran/ers to connect across tie and distance. The for#1ation had s1i/ht1y diEerent
eanin/s for the two of #s, b#t it was the brid/e we event#a11y fo#nd to connect his view to y view. INT%RI%)%R And the diEerence FRAN%N I too- the notion, +na11y, as a ca11 to ars to contin#e tryin/ to write boo-s that ordinary !eo!1e, non!rofessiona1s, co#1d connect with. I thin- that Cave, #! to the tie when he sto!!ed writin/, was sti11 str#//1in/ with his distr#st of the !art of hise1f that wanted to !1ease !eo!1e. I !erceived, ri/ht1y or wron/1y, that o#r friendshi! was ha#nted by a co!etition between the writer who was !#rs#in/ art for art*s sa-e and the writer who was tryin/ to be o#t in the wor1d. The artforart*ssa-e writer /ets a certain -ind of c#1t credibi1ity, /ets boo-s written abo#t his or her wor-, whereas the writer o#t in the wor1d /ets !#b1ic attention and oney. ;i-e I say, I !erceived this as a co!etition, b#t I don*t -now for a fact that Cave !erceived it that way. There*s soe evidence that he did, b#t he was a tro#b1ed !erson and was torented by the !ossibi1ity of !eo!1e is!erceivin/ hi. 9is instinct was to -ee! !eo!1e at a distance and 1et the wor- s!ea- for itse1f, and I do -now that he en5oyed the stat#s he*d attained. 9e i/ht have denied it, b#t he denied a11 sorts of obvio#s1y tr#e thin/s at diEerent oents. 9e cae fro an acadeic fai1y, and the fact that 1ots of boo-s were bein/ written abo#t his wor- rea11y was /ratifyin/ to hi. In the way that sib1in/ co!etition wor-s, I*ve consistent1y aintained a !osition of not carin/ abo#t that st#E. And Cave*s 1eve1 of !#re1y 1in/#istic achieveent was t#rf that I -new better than to try to co!ete on. INT%RI%)%R )hen did yo# +rst coe across Ce;i11o FRAN%N I reeber a 4hristas visit to y wife*s fai1y d#rin/ which she /ave e ,&ayers. I reeber readin/ it on the train bac- #! to "oston and havin/ one of the !#rest aesthetic res!onses I*ve ever had. I*d +na11y fo#nd soebody who was !#ttin/ on the !a/e the a!oca1y!tic, !ostind#stria1 #rban aesthetic that I*d been 1oo-in/ for in +1 and !hoto/ra!hs and had fo#nd eD!ressed in #sic, !artic#1ar1y by Ta1-in/ 9eads. And here was soebody who was /ettin/ it on th e !a/e and writin/ 1i-e a drea. 9is !rose was 1i-e a ca11 to d#tyH o# #st write better. 9ere, see, it can be done. I +nd it rear-ab1e that !eo!1e don*t ta1- ore abo#t ,&ayers. In certain ways, Ce;i11o never wrote better. INT%RI%)%R )hat did yo# +nd so attractive abo#t hi FRAN%N
It cae as no s#r!rise when I 1earned, 1ater, that he soeties co!osed boo-s with one !ara/ra!h on each !a/e, startin/ a new !a/e after on1y a few sentences. 9is !ara/ra!hs rea11y do have a standa1one #a1ity. It was thro#/h readin/ hi that I cae to see !a/es as co11ections of individ#a1 sentences. For a yo#n/ writer, in !artic#1ar, the terrors of the !ara/ra!h becoe ore ana/eab1e when yo# see it as a syste of sentences. I a1so started to see a11 the 5#n- CNA that had c1#ttered y !ara/ra!hs before then, and that I*d been #naware of. INT%RI%)%R Ce;i11o*s sentences see to invo1ve intiate connections between individ#a1 words, even 1etters=a vis#a1 !atternin/. FRAN%N es. In y own wor-, I can see his vis#a1 inB#ence in the dinnertab1e scene in The Corrections that I wrote iediate1y after readin/ nderwor&d . "#t I don*t thin- y !a/es read 1i-e his, beca#se I had a !reference for ro#nder 1etters= c *s and p*s. I thin- of hi as bein/ ore into & *s and a*s and i *s. INT%RI%)%R C *s and p*s
FRAN%N I -e!t seein/ a !1ate of food with beet /reens and 1iver and r#taba/a= intense !#r!1e /reen, intense oran/e, rich r#sty brown=and fee1in/ a wish to write sentences that were 5#icy and sens#o#s. INT%RI%)%R Co yo# ean the so#nd, too FRAN%N No, the way they 1oo-ed, the ro#ndness of %*s and g *s, the 5#iciness. That*s a1ost the 1ast tie I reeber thin-in/ abo#t the words that way. Nowadays I have a1ost the o!!osite aesthetic=I* 1oo-in/ for trans!arency. INT%RI%)%R And when did yo# discover Pynchon FRAN%N I*d coe #! with the !1ot of The Twenty-Seventh City when I was a co11e/e so!hoore, in a !1aywritin/ wor-sho!, and o#r instr#ctor had to1d e I*d better ta-e a 1oo- at Pynchon. I +na11y /ot aro#nd to it after I /rad#ated and went bac- to >erany. I too- /ravity’s Rain%ow a1on/ in assar-et !a!erbac-, and it #tter1y cons#ed e. It was 1i-e /ettin/ the B# to read that boo-. It was 1i-e I was +/htin/ oE soe very a//ressive infection. I started writin/ Pynchonian 1etters to y then +ancGe, and I thin- it*s si/ni+cant that she hated those 1etters and ade her hatred of the -nown, and that I steered away fro that voice=beca#se of o#r -
re1ationshi!, beca#se of an intense re1ationshi! with a woan. )hich now sees to e eb1eaticH o# co#1d either !1ay with the boys 1i-e that, and re1e/ate woen to inor and s#bstantia11y ob5ecti+ed characters on the ar/in, or yo# co#1d try to have a f#11Bed/ed re1ationshi! with a woan, in which case that -ind of boy writin/, however bri11iant and asterf#1, was necessari1y s# bordinate. It*s worth notin/ that at this !oint in y 1ife, I fee1 #ch ore indebted to vario#s fea1e writers=A1ice #nro, 4hristina tead, F1annery ?*4onnor, Jane i1ey, Pa#1a FoD, to nae a few=than I do to Pynchon. INT%RI%)%R )hat abo#t the 1etters was Pynchonian FRAN%N The tan/1y sentences, the overf#11ness of the, and a -ind of dirty eD!1icitness. A hi!ster 5adedness. 6een it a11, done it a11, don*t ean shit. ;i-e the dar- side of R. 4r#b. And yet Pynchon*s enter!rise in that boo-=creatin/ an iense1y co!1eD wor1d in which cons!iracy is the or/anizin/ !rinci!1e=was soethin/ I interna1ized and tried to b#i1d on. I saw that I i/ht be ab1e to /o beyond the #nseen cons!iracy to a seen cons!iracy, inhabited by co!1icated characters with who we i/ht, oreover, sy!athize. To t#rn the who1e notion of the victi of cons!iracy inside o#t and a-e the victi hise1f a !rob1eatic +/#re and the cons!irators !erha!s we11 5#sti+ed. That was y best shot, as a twentythreeyearo1d, at dea1in/ with y brief b#t 1ifethreatenin/ infection with Pynchon. INT%RI%)%R And that infection did not 1ast to yo#r 1ater nove1s FRAN%N No. %ven in y +rst boo-, I fo#nd a better ode1 in 4oover. 9e had soe of the sae satiric and encyc1o!edic abitions as Pynchon, b#t he was wor-in/ at the 1eve1 of characters and their re1ationshi!s to one another, and I 5#st /ravitated to that. INT%RI%)%R o#*ve described yo#r +rst two boo-s as 6systes nove1s. FRAN%N I had an idea of the socia1 nove1 that I didn*t rea1ize was a1ready o#toded. I rather naive1y be1ieved that, if I co#1d ca!t#re the way 1ar/e systes wor-, readers wo#1d #nderstand their !1ace in those systes better and a-e better !o1itica1 decisions. I*d ta-en rea1 de1i/ht in the boo-s of the !revio#s /eneration that had revea1ed these -inds of systes to e. In The Twenty-Seventh City , the systes were city and co#nty /overnent and re/iona1 econoics. And there were vario#s systes
in Strong Motion , ost notab1y the systes of science and re1i/ion=two vio1ent1y o!!osin/ systes of a-in/ sense in the wor1d. This conce!tion of the nove1, I thin-, cae o#t of y en/a/eent with science +ction, which is a11 abo#t conce!ts. o# have a coo1 ideaH )hat if we co#1d trave1 bac- in tie )hat if in the f#t#re there*s on1y one seD And then the characters coe into bein/ to a-e that story ha!!en. >oin/ into y +rst two boo-s, I did have severa1 characters +r1y st#c- in y head, b#t any of the sa11er characters were invented to serve the systes. )hereas, in y 1ast two nove1s, the systes are there to serve the characters. There are 1in/erin/ e1eents of the o1d ethod in The Corrections =I*d been fascinated, for eDa!1e, by y !arents* stories of cr#ises and, 1i-e Cave )a11ace, I saw the cr#ise shi! as soehow eb1eatic of o#r tie. "#t y !riorities have ost1y Bi!!ed. INT%RI%)%R 9ow did yo# be/in to write Strong Motion FRAN%N A b#nch of thin/s had ha!!ened. y +rst boo- had been !#b1ished, and y wife and I had Bed to %#ro!e8 thin/s were /ettin/ hard in the arria/e. And, !erha!s not coincidenta11y, I*d fa11en #nder the s!e11 of re1i/io#s writers, !artic#1ar1y F1annery ?*4onnor and Costoyevs-y. y wife and I be/an to#rin/ cathedra1s and 1oo-in/ at edieva1 sc#1!t#re and Roanes#e ch#rches. (ise '&ood, The 'rothers 0arama*ov , and the cathedra1 at 4hartres are a11 eDa!1es of re1i/io#s art, which is neither 5#st re1i/ion nor 5#st art8 it*s a s!ecia1 cate/ory, a s!ecia1 bindin/ of the aesthetic and the devotiona1. ?*4onnor and Costoyevs-y vent#re intense1y into the eDtrees of h#an !sycho1o/y, b#t a1ways with serio#s ora1 !#r!ose. "eca#se of the di3c#1ties in y arria/e, I was attracted to their search for ora1 !#r!ose in eotiona1 eDtreity. I ia/ined static 1ives bein/ disr#!ted fro witho#t=1itera11y sha-en. I ia/ined vio1ent scenes that wo#1d stri! away the veneer and /et !eo!1e sho#tin/ an/ry ora1 tr#ths at each other. I had the tit1e Strong Motion very ear1y on. INT%RI%)%R )hen had yo# becoe interested in earth#a-es FRAN%N I*d been a research assistant in seiso1o/y=this was the eDce11ent 5ob that had f#nded the writin/ of The Twenty-Seventh City =and so I -new a 1ot abo#t it, inc1#din/ the fact that h#an bein/s can ca#se earth#a-es by !#!in/ 1i#ids #nder/ro#nd. There are very few brid/es between the /eo1o/ic sca1e and the h#an sca1e, between the 1ar/e forces of nat#re and the sa11 forces of th e heart, and I reco/nized ear1y on that the !henoenon of h#an1y ind#ced seisicity was -ind of a /o1d ine 1iterari1y. "#t Strong Motion is ain1y a nove1 abo#t an intense 1ove aEair. It s!ins o#tward fro there to enco!ass an a1ternative "oston in which earth#a-es are occ#rrin/.
"y that !oint in y 1ife, re1ationshi!s, for want of a better word, had !resented these1ves as bein/ of #ndeniab1e !riary i!ortance. The conBict in y arria/e co#1d no 1on/er be i/nored. INT%RI%)%R And that fo#nd its way into the nove1 FRAN%N Strong Motion was a nove1 written by a !erson to who thin/s were ha!!enin/ as he wrote it. It was a third !arty in the re1ationshi!. y wife*s own second nove1 was a fo#rth !arty. )e bro#/ht these two eDtra +/#res into the ho#se, so as to have #ch 1on/er and ore co!1icated disc#ssions and +/hts. "#t I honest1y have a !oor reco11ection of how I wrote that boo-. It was a bad tie, and we were trave1in/ a 1ot=r#nnin/, rea11y=atte!tin/ /eo/ra!hic so1#tions to non/eo/ra!hic !rob1es.
?ne of the 1ines fro The Tria& that has a1ways stayed with e is, a!!roDiate1y, 69e had so #ch i!ortant, #r/ent wor- to do at the o3ce, and he was 1osin/ so #ch tie to his tria1. Precise1y now, when he needed to devote a11 his wits and stren/th and attention to his career, he instead had to worry abo#t his tria1. )hen I thin- abo#t y own tra5ectory as a writer, it*s in those ters. I be/an with an abitio#s wish to be a writer of a certain stat#re, and to be entioned in the co!any of s#ch and s#ch, and to !rod#ce a certain -ind of asterf#1 boo- that en/a/es with conte!orary c#1t#re and a11 that. I wanted to /et on with the serio#s b#siness of bein/ an abitio#s writer, b#t there was this dan tria1 we11in/ #! fro within. It was certain1y tr#e in Strong Motion+ when thin/s were /ettin/ hard in the arria/e, and it becae a11 the ore tr#e in The Corrections H Precise1y then, when I needed to foc#s a11 of y attention on writin/ a nove1, y !arents were fa11in/ a!art. If yo# s#Eer with that for eno#/h years, it event#a11y dawns on yo# that, in fact, yo#*ve isconstr#ed the rea1 wor- of bein/ a n ove1ist. INT%RI%)%R o# once described The Corrections as an attac- on the nove1*s eneies, as an ar/#ent for the nove1. FRAN%N The eney I had in ind was ateria1is. The fear o#t of which that boo- was written was that the new ateria1is of the brain, which has /iven #s dr#/s to chan/e o#r !ersona1ities, and the ateria1is of cons#er c#1t#re, which !rovides end1ess distractions and enco#ra/es the end1ess !#rs#it of ore /oods, were both antithetica1 to the !ro5ect of 1iterat#re, which is to connect with that which is #nchan/in/ and #nchan/eab1e, the tra/ic diension of 1ife. INT%RI%)%R Patty describes the res!onsibi1ity of !arents to raise chi1dren who reco/nize rea1ity. FRAN%N
I a indeed interested in se1fdece!tion. Rea1ist +ction !res#!!oses that the a#thor has access to the tr#th. It i!1ies a s#!eriority of the a#thor to his or her coica11y b1#nderin/ characters. The Corrections was written as a coedy, a soewhat an/ry coedy, and so the se1fdece!tion ode1 wor-ed !erfect1y. e1fdece!tion is f#nny, and the writer /ets to a//ressive1y inBict !ainf#1 -now1ed/e on one character after another. In Freedom, the rec#rrent eta!hor is s1ee!wa1-in/. Not that yo#*re deceivin/ yo#rse1f=yo#*re si!1y as1ee!, yo#*re not !ayin/ attention, yo#*re in soe sort of drea state. The Corrections was !reocc#!ied with the #nrea1, wi11f#11y se1f dece!tive wor1ds we a-e for o#rse1ves to 1ive in. o# -now, enchantent has a !ositive connotation, b#t even in fairy ta1es it*s not a /ood thin/, #s#a11y. )hen yo#*re #nder enchantent, yo#*re 1ost to the wor1d. And the rea1ist writer can !1ay a #sef#1 and entertainin/ ro1e in vio1ent1y brea-in/ the s!e11. "#t soethin/ abo#t the !osition this !#ts the writer in, as a !ossessor of tr#th, as an e!isteo1o/ica1 enforcer, has coe to a-e e #ncofortab1e. I*ve becoe ore interested in 5oinin/ the characters in their drea, and eD!eriencin/ it with the, and 1ess interested in the ere fact that it*s a drea. INT%RI%)%R The Corrections was yo#r +rst eEort to b#i1d a nove1 aro#nd Andy Aberant, b#t event#a11y yo# eDcised hi, as yo# wo#1d 1ater fro Freedom.
FRAN%N es, Andy of the #ndead has now fai1ed twice to a-e the c#t. 9e was a se1f conscio#s1y ora11y co!roised character, +rst as a ec#rities and %Dchan/e 4oission attorney, 1ater as the o!erator of a bo/#s 1and tr#st. In The Corrections I ia/ined hi invo1vin/ hise1f in a fai1y that was rea11y, rea11y sh#t down, and coin/ to have a re1ationshi! with each eber of the fai1y, he1!in/ the achieve what they co#1dn*t achieve these1ves. I* a1ways 1oo-in/ for ways to see thin/s thro#/h fresh eyes, and it seeed to e !otentia11y interestin/ to observe a fai1y fro the !ers!ective of an essentia11y ado!ted son=6se1fado!ted in ad#1thood was the notion. It was a-in to observin/ the Probsts thro#/h the eyes and ears of those eavesdro!!in/ Indians. INT%RI%)%R In an ear1y section, !#b1ished in /ranta, yo# say that Andy cae into the wor1d needin/ !eo!1e to be1ieve that he -new everythin/. FRAN%N ?ne of the reasons Andy never wor-ed is that he was too #ch 1i-e e, at 1east the de!ressive side of e. I /et de!ressed when I* fai1in/ to /et a nove1 /oin/, and Andy sees to coe a1on/ as the voice of y de!ressive, hy!erinte11ect#a1 distance fro y own 1ife. If he*d ever been ab1e to rise to the 1eve1 of !arody, he i/ht have wor-ed as a character.
"#t those ;aberts 5#st -e!t /ettin/ 1ar/er and 1ar/er. A1fred and %nid were a1ways A1fred and %nid, their voices were ta-en fro 1ife. y !arents were not A1fred and %nid, b#t on bad days they co#1d so#nd 1i-e the. 4hi! and >ary and Cenise had been Boatin/ aro#nd in y ind, in diEerent avatars, for soe years, with diEerent occ#!ations and in diEerent sit#ations. Fi/#rin/ o#t how to /ather these +ve characters into soe be1ievab1e seb1ance of a fai1y too- severa1 very #n!1easant years of fa1se starts and note ta-in/. INT%RI%)%R The Corrections was the +rst boo- yo# wrote entire1y on a co!#ter.
FRAN%N In ters of !rocess, the one sa11 diEerence between a ty!ewriter and a co!#ter is that a co!#ter a-es it easier to +nd fra/ents yo#*ve written and then for/otten abo#t. )hen yo# wor- at a boo- for as 1on/ as I do, yo# end #! doin/ a 1ot of asseb1a/e fro scaven/ed ateria1s. And with a co!#ter yo#*re ore 1i-e1y, on a s1ow ornin/, to drift over to another +1e fo1der and o!en #! soethin/ o1d. 4h#n-s of teDt trave1 with yo#, rather than /ettin/ b#ried in a drawer or stored in soe reote, inaccessib1e 1ocation. ?ne afternoon in &''( I wrote siD or ei/ht !a/es abo#t the /erontocracy of t. J#de, based on soe idwestern ho#ses that I ha!!ened to -now we11. I*d 5#st +nished readin/ the an#scri!t of 1nfnite 2est . I*d been tryin/ for severa1 years to 1a#nch a /rotes#e1y over!1otted nove1 abo#t Phi1ade1!hia and !risons, and readin/ a /ood friend*s aazin/ an#scri!t ro#sed e fro y do/atic s1#bers, so to s!ea-. Aro#nd the sae tie, I was a1so wor-in/ on a short story abo#t a !erson 1ivin/ in New or-, tryin/ to have a 1ife, tryin/ to a-e contact with woen, and i!eded by the fact that his father was s1ee!in/ in an enoro#s b1#e chair in his 1ivin/ roo. I co#1dn*t +/#re o#t where to /o with the story, so I set it aside. "#t a few onths 1ater, when I des!erate1y needed soethin/ to read at a ,aris ReviewOs!onsored event with Cavid eans, I searched y co!#ter and fo#nd these two ch#n-s of writin/ that I co#1d !#t to/ether and read. Cona1d Antri and JeE %#/enides, who I hard1y -new, b#t who s#bse#ent1y becae /ood friends, cae #! afterward and said, 6That was rea11y /ood. The ,aris Review went on to !#b1ish that ch#n-, and it becae soethin/ I wanted to #se in the nove1, too. INT%RI%)%R And it went sooth1y after that FRAN%N No. Then cae f#rther bad years, tryin/ to a-e that ridic#1o#s, over!1otted onster wor-. It was +na11y another friend*s wor- that ro#sed e8 I read the an#scri!t of nderwor&d on a eDican vacation. I cae hoe fro that vacation and set aside the sti11onstro#s !1ot and !1#n/ed into the cr#iseshi! cha!ter and had an eD!erience very sii1ar to A1fred*s in that cha!ter. I*d intended to write a si!1e, #ic- narrative abo#t cr#iseshi! hi1arities, and I fe11 thro#/h the s#rface of the !resent action into a 1on/, 1on/ Bashbac-. I was writin/ abo#t an 6ordinary
evenin/ with the ;aberts=basica11y 5#st a sa11 draa of 4hi!*s ref#sa1 to eat his food. "#t Ce;i11o*s ethod in the recyc1in/ cha!ter of nderwor&d , where vario#s 1ines of tho#/ht are cris!1y sorted into a1ternatin/ !ara/ra!hs in the s ae way that his ain character is sortin/ his ho#seho1d trash, had att#ned e to how #ch s#s!ense and forebodin/ yo# can create si!1y by de!1oyin/ !ara/ra!h brea-s. In y case, I was sortin/ the fai1y*s fo#r !oints of view by !ara/ra!h. The writin/ !rocess for that Bashbac- was diEerent fro any !rocess before or since, and it rea11y chan/ed y idea of what I was doin/ as a nove1ist. I*d #it ci/arettes a onth ear1ier, and as a res#1t I was drin-in/ tons of coEee. I*d /et #! in the ornin/ and drin- so #ch coEee that I ade yse1f a1ost sic-. Then I*d have to 1ie down and ta-e a hard na!, which I co#1d s#dden1y do beca#se I was in better contact with y nat#ra1 body rhyths. Instead of havin/ a ci/arette when I was fee1in/ s1ee!y, why not 5#st 1ie down and s1ee! For the +rst tie in y 1ife, I co#1d ta-e these wonderf#1, intense twentyin#te na!s. "#t then, beca#se I was so 1oaded #! with caEeine, I wo#1d coe s#r/in/ bac- #! to the s#rface and /o strai/ht to the des- and write a !a/e. And that was it for the day. INT%RI%)%R J#st one !a/e FRAN%N A !a/e was eno#/h, by then. If yo# read the bio/ra!hies of !eo!1e who have written /ood boo-s, yo# often see the !oint where they s#dden1y coe into these1ves, and those wee-s in the s!rin/ of &''7 were when I cae into yse1f as a writer. They fee1 1i-e soe of the best wee-s of writin/ I*11 ever have. The discovery that I co#1d write better abo#t soethin/ as trivia1 as an ordinary fai1y dinner than I co#1d abo#t the eD!1odin/ !rison !o!#1ation of the $nited tates, and the cor!oratization of Aerican 1ife, and a11 the other thin/s I*d been tryin/ to do, was a rea1 reve1ation. INT%RI%)%R 9ow did yo# conceive of the str#ct#re of the boo- FRAN%N I was very aware of how tie wo#1d be hand1ed. ?nce I*d +na11y +/#red o#t that a 1ar/e nove1 co#1d be constr#cted o#t of #1ti!1e short nove1s, each of the b#i1din/ to a crisis in which the ain character can no 1on/er esca!e rea1ity, I had an o!!ort#nity to !1ay with tie ana/eent=how far bac- into the !ast to !1#n/e after the o!enin/ section, how to !arce1 o#t the /rad#a1 ret#rn toward the !resent, where to sit#ate the eetin/ of the bac-story with the !resent story. I s-etched o#t in !enci1 how the chrono1o/y wo#1d wor- in each of the +ve nove11as, and I was !1eased to have a diEerent str#ct#re for each of the. I a1so 1i-ed the way the /ra!hs 1oo-edH A horizonta1 1ine, re!resentin/ the !resent action, was interr#!ted by ch#n-s of bac-story which wo#1d rise at vario#s s1o!es 1i-e soethin/ s#rfacin/. ;i-e a issi1e risin/ #! o#t of the !ast to intersect with a !1ane Byin/ horizonta11y in the !resent.
INT%RI%)%R "oth of yo#r +rst two nove1s end with otion, with i!ortant iss#es sti11 o!en, and that sees to oEer an interestin/ contrast to the endin/s of yo#r 1ast two nove1s, which in certain ways are ore ti/ht1y reso1ved. FRAN%N I can see that 1ac- of reso1#tion now as a yo#n/ writer*s ove. o# +nd that yo# have ta1ent as a nove1ist, yo# #nderstand a 1ot ore abo#t the wor1d than any other !eo!1e yo#r a/e do, and yet yo# haven*t 1ived eno#/h=certain1y I hadn*t=to rea11y have soethin/ to say. %verythin/ is sti11 /#essed at, every conc1#sion is !rovisiona1. And this cae to be y /ri!e with the !ostodern aversion to c1os#re. It*s 1i-e, >row #! a1readyK Ta-e soe res!onsibi1ity for yo#r narrativeK I* not 1oo-in/ for the eanin/, b#t I a 1oo-in/ for a eanin/, and yo#*re denyin/ e a vita1 e1eent of a-in/ sense of any story, which is its endin/K Aversion to c1os#re can be refreshin/ at certain historica1 oents, when ossi+ed c#1t#ra1 narratives need to be cha11en/ed. "#t it 1oses its s#bversive bite in a c#1t#re that ce1ebrates eterna1 ado1escence. It becoes !art of the !rob1e. INT%RI%)%R )here were yo# writin/ The Corrections FRAN%N I b#i1t an o3ce #! in 9ar1e in &''7. It had a h#/e so#thfacin/ window 1oo-in/ direct1y at &2(th treet, which is one of the noisier streets of New or-. I -new I had to b1oc- o#t the 1i/ht, beca#se the s!ace was so intense1y bri/ht, b#t I a1so b#i1t a second window for so#nd !rotection. )or-in/ witho#t ci/arettes had ade e #ch ore !rone to distraction. 4i/arettes had a1ways been the way I*d sna!!ed yse1f to attention. 4i/arettes had ade e sart, and sart had been the or/anizin/ !rinci!1e for a co#!1e of boo-s. art had been the 1oc#s of y anhood, b#t it was no 1on/er /ettin/ e anywhere. I*d #it beca#se I*d decided that they were /ettin/ in the way of fee1in/. )itho#t ci/arettes, tho#/h, I was so easi1y irritated by even oderate1y bri/ht 1i/ht or oderate noise that I iediate1y becae de!endent on ear!1#/s. They becae a -ind of a ci/arette re!1aceent, as did a dar-ened roo. And that*s been the scene ever since. INT%RI%)%R Ces!ite the si1ence, #sic often feat#res in yo#r boo-s. FRAN%N I* ore envio#s of #sic than of any other art for=the way a son/ can ta-e yo#r head over and a-e yo# fee1 so intense1y and so iediate1y. It*s 1i-e snortin/ the !owder, it /oes strai/ht to yo#r brain.
%ach of y boo-s has had a set of son/s associated with it. There*s a1ways roc- and ro11 in the iD, b#t the ost i!ortant #sic for The Corrections was !robab1y ,etrushka, the travins-y ba11et. ,etrushka corres!onded not on1y to the fee1in/ I was after b#t to the str#ct#re, too, the re1ation of tona11y dis!arate !arts to an #1tiate1y #ni+ed who1e. I a1so -e!t coin/ bac- to teve Reich*s Music "or 34 Musicians as a ode1 for the -ind of eta!horic 1ayerin/ and interconnection I was after. INT%RI%)%R The Corrections is f#11 of references to the brain, b#t in Freedom the who1e 1an/#a/e of brain cheistry and brain architect#re bare1y re/isters.
FRAN%N )e11, yo# -now, new ties, new eneies. Freedom was conceived and event#a11y written in a decade where 1an/#a/e was #nder as concerted an assa#1t as we*ve seen in y 1ifetie. The !ro!a/anda of the "#sh adinistration, its a!!ro!riation of words 1i-e "reedom for cynica1 shortter !o1itica1 /ain, was a c1ear and !resent dan/er. This was a1so the decade that bro#/ht #s o#T#be and #niversa1 ce11!hone ownershi! and Faceboo- and Twitter. )hich is to sayH bro#/ht #s a who1e new wor1d of b#syness and distraction. o the defense of the nove1 oved to diEerent fronts. ;et*s ta-e one of those b#zzwords, "reedom, and try to restore it to its !rob1eatic /1ory. ;et*s redo#b1e o#r eEorts to write a boo- with a narrative stron/ eno#/h to !#11 yo# into a !1ace where yo# can fee1 and thin- in ways that are di3c#1t when yo#*re distracted and b#sy and e1ectronica11y bobarded. The i!#1se to defend the nove1, to defend the t#rf, is stron/er than ever. "#t the foes chan/e with the ties. INT%RI%)%R Cid yo# conceive Freedom initia11y as a !o1itica1 nove1 FRAN%N es, I s!ent severa1 years 1oo-in/ for soe interestin/ way into o#r nationa1 !o1itica1 narrative, soe )ashin/tonian wrin-1e that hadn*t been eD!1ored to death in other edia. "#t I co#1dn*t +nd that wrin-1e, and, fran-1y, I was a1so never ab1e to /et !ast y iediate !artisan an/er to the ore o!eninded !1ace where tr#thf#1 nove1s are written. I was a-in/ the sae ista-e I a1ways see to a-e initia11y, tryin/ to write fro the to! down. I a1ways have to 1earn the hard way to be/in with character. INT%RI%)%R )hen did yo# be/in to see the sha!e of the boo- FRAN%N ?n1y near the end. As 1ate as seven onths before I handed it in, I had in ind a co!1ete1y diEerent for for the boo-. I tho#/ht it was /oin/ to be a nove1 of doc#ents. y !erennia1 refrain when I* wor-in/ is 6I don*t -now what the boo- is
abo#tK I don*t have a storyK Rea11y on1y when the 1ast co#!1e of cha!ters coe into foc#s does that refrain cease. In the s!rin/ of 2007, after +ve years of !eriodic fai1#re with the boo-, I*d ade eno#/h !ro/ress that I co#1d have a very stron/ drin- with y editor and s-etch o#t a 1ovetrian/1e story with a Patty1i-e character at its center. 9e said, 6That so#nds 1i-e a /reat, f#nny short nove1, I*11 /ive yo# a contract for it. o we wrote #! a contract with a de1ivery date of ten onths 1ater, beca#se I was sti11 intendin/ to write abo#t !o1itics and wanted the boo- o#t before the 200@ e1ections. I went to "er1in, to breathe the /ood o1d >eran 1iterary air, and I tried to #se the iso1ation and the dead1ine !ress#re to /et soe cha!ters ban/ed o#t. "#t the characters weren*t there yet. I cae bac- hoe and Ba/e11ated yse1f a11 s#er, b#t the characters sti11 weren*t there. %vent#a11y I reached a !oint of s#ch des!air that I decided to ta-e a year oE. INT%RI%)%R And yo# did ta-e a year oE FRAN%N )e11, near1y. I !#t +ve so1id onths into a $ew 5orker !iece on the environenta1 sit#ation in 4hina. I a1so researched a second !iece, a edi#ter 1on/it#dina1 st#dy of twentytwoyearo1ds arrivin/ in New or- 4ity, fresh o#t of co11e/e. I #1tiate1y decided not to write that one, o#t of -indness to y s#b5ects, who were wonderf#1 -ids and said far ore to a $ew 5orker re!orter than they sho#1d have. That !iece /rew o#t of y coin/ to ters with not havin/ had chi1dren, y sense that I was /ettin/ o1d before y tie, that I*d 1ost a vita1 connection with yo#th and th#s with ho!e and !ossibi1ity. The 4hina !iece cae o#t of a #estion that Cave and I ta1-ed abo#t constant1yH 9ow can we -ee! sittin/ in o#r roos and str#//1in/ with +ction when there is so #ch wron/ with the wor1d C#rin/ the s#er after I si/ned the boo- contract, y sense of d#ty becae #tter1y o!!ressive. o #ch bad st#E was ha!!enin/ in the co#ntry=and ha!!enin/ to wi1d birds aro#nd the wor1dK=that I fe1t I 5#st co#1dn*t -ee! wastin/ onths. I had to /o o#t and do soethin/, /et y hands dirty with soe !rob1e. ?n1y after the 4hina !iece fai1ed to +nd a discernib1e a#dience or have any discernib1e i!act did I /et it thro#/h y head that I i/ht act#a11y have ore eEect on the wor1d by retreatin/ to y roo and doin/ what I was !#t on earth to do. INT%RI%)%R 9ow do yo# -now when the wor- is /oin/ we11 FRAN%N The word I*ve been #sin/ to ta1- abo#t that 1ate1y is ade6uacy7 y !riary reader and cons#1tant for Freedom was y friend %1isabeth Robinson, who*s been str#//1in/ with her own new nove1, and one of her /ifts to e was her sayin/, 6o# on1y have to a-e this boo- ade#ate. To which she was nice eno#/h to addH 6o#r ade#ate is very /ood.
)hen I was yo#n/er, the ain str#//1e was to be a 6/ood writer. Now I ore or 1ess ta-e y writin/ abi1ities for /ranted, a1tho#/h this doesn*t ean I a1ways write we11. And, by a wide ar/in, I*ve never fe1t 1ess se1fconscio#s1y !reocc#!ied with 1an/#a/e than I did when I was writin/ Freedom. ?ver and over a/ain, as I was !rod#cin/ cha!ters, I said to yse1f, 6This fee1s nothin/ 1i-e the writin/ I did for twenty years=this 5#st fee1s trans!arent. I wasn*t seein/ in the !a/es any of the si/ns I*d ta-en as enco#ra/in/ when I was writin/ The Corrections. The sentences bac- then had had a !o!. They were, yo# -now, serio#s !rose sentences, and I was ab1e to van#ish y do#bts si!1y by rereadin/ the. )hen I was showin/ Corrections cha!ters to Cavid eans, I basica11y eD!ected his r#bber sta!, beca#se the sentences had a 1eve1 of eE#1/ence that 1eft e tota11y defended. "#t here, with Freedom, I fe1t 1i-e, 6?h y >od, I 5#st wrote however any eta!horfree !a/es abo#t soe weird days in the 1ife of a co11e/e st#dent, I have no idea if this is any /ood. I needed va1idation in a way I never had before. I was aditted1y soewhat conscio#s that this was a /ood si/n=that it i/ht ean that I was doin/ soethin/ diEerent, !ressin/ 1an/#a/e ore co!1ete1y into the service of !rovidin/ trans!arent access to the stories I was te11in/ and to the characters in those stories. "#t it sti11 fe1t 1i-e a 1ea! into the void. INT%RI%)%R It is often said abo#t yo#r recent boo-s that they 1oo- ore 1i-e nineteenthcent#ry nove1s than twenty+rstcent#ry ones. FRAN%N The !eo!1e at the wedish Acadey, who bestow the Nobe1 Prize, recent1y confessed their thoro#/h/oin/ 1ac- of interest in Aerican 1iterary !rod#ction. They say we*re too ins#1ar, we*re not writin/ abo#t the wor1d, we*re on1y writin/ abo#t o#rse1ves. >iven how Aericanized the wor1d has becoe, I thin- they*re !robab1y wron/ abo#t this=we !robab1y say ore abo#t the wor1d by writin/ abo#t o#rse1ves than a wedish a#thor does by writin/ abo#t a tri! to Africa. "#t even if they*re ri/ht, I don*t thin- o#r ins#1arity is necessari1y a bad thin/. Nineteenthcent#ry R#ssia stri-es e as a !ara11e1. R#ssia is its own 1itt1e wor1d, fao#s1y /ood at re!e11in/ inc#rsions by forei/n !owers, and it*s aintained a se!arate s#!er!ower identity for cent#ries. aybe that very in s#1arity, that fee1in/ of 1ivin/ in a co!1ete b#t not #ite # niversa1 wor1d, creates certain -inds of 1iterary !ossibi1ity. A11 of those o1d R#ssians were draatica11y en/a/ed with the #estion of what wo#1d becoe of their co#ntry, and the #estion didn*t see inconse#entia1, beca#se R#ssia was a vast nation. )hereas, when a ;iechtensteiner wrest1es with the f#t#re of ;iechtenstein, who rea11y cares It*s !ossib1e that the $.. and R#ssia are eDact1y the ri/ht size to be hos!itab1e to a certain -ind of eD!ansive nove1istic !ro5ect. %n/1and was, too, for a tie, than-s to its e!ire, and the /o1den a/e of the %n/1ish nove1 coincided with its i!eria1 doination. There a/ain, it wasn*t the who1e wor1d, it was 5#st a very 1ar/e icrocos. Tr#e coso!o1itanis is inco!atib1e with the nove1, beca#se n ove1ists need !artic#1arity. "#t we a1so need soe roo to ove aro#nd. And we*re 1#c-y to have both here.
That said, I don*t fee1 !artic#1ar1y nineteenth cent#ry. A11 of the iss#es that becae !rob1eatic with odernis sti11 need to be ne/otiated in every boo-. INT%RI%)%R And yet it doesn*t see that nove1ty is a11 that i!ortant to yo# anyore. FRAN%N I* wary of the !#rs#it of nove1ty for nove1ty*s sa-e. At the sae tie, if I don*t fee1 1i-e I* doin/ soethin/ new, I can*t do anythin/. Readin/ tie is so scarce nowadays, and a1ternative entertainent is so wide1y avai1ab1e, that I* -een1y att#ned, as a reader, to whether a boo-*s a#thor sees to be eD!eriencin/ soethin/ new or is 5#st t#rnin/ the cran-. There*s a1ways new content, of co#rse. 4ontent wi11 carry yo# a certain distance8 it can resc#e yo# when yo#*re in tro#b1e fora11y. I thin- the i!ortance of content is what 9aro1d "1oo, for eDa!1e, rea11y #nderestiates in the nove1. "1oo*s at his best with !oetry, beca#se !oetry is so !#re1y 1an/#a/e. "#t his a!!roach becoes soethin/ c1ose to nonsense when he a!!1ies it to nove1s, beca#se he*s sti11 basica11y 5#st 1oo-in/ at 1an/#a/e. ;an/#a/e is i!ortant, abso1#te1y, b#t the history of the nove1 is on1y !art1y sty1istic. Fa#1-ner obvio#s1y be/at any inB#ences, ditto 9ein/way, ditto Joyce, ditto 4arver and ;ish, ditto Ce;i11o. "#t rhetorica1 innovation is 5#st one of the any streas that feed into the river of +ction. INT%RI%)%R )here do the odernists +/#re in yo#r deve1o!ent FRAN%N I have 1earned and fee1 I wi11 contin#e to 1earn an enoro#s ao#nt fro Pro#st= his !#re1y nove1istic /ifts, his reco/nition of how #ch yo# can /ain by 1ettin/ a story s1ow1y eDtend over 1on/ stretches of tie, his ethod of renderin/ the sense of /rad#a1 dawnin/ as we 1ive o#r 1ives. Thin/s are not what they initia11y see, thin/s are often eDact1y the o!!osite of what they see. And 4onradH the !rescience of The Secret gent , the !sycho1o/ica1 br#ta1ity and intensity of 8ictory , the incisive criti#e of co1onia1is in $ostromo . Those boo-s are arve1s to e in both content and ethod. 4onrad devotes the +rst ha1f of $ostromo to s1ow1y b#i1din/ to a set !iece that he then oits, so that he can 5#! to a diEerent !1ace at a diEerent tie and b1ow yo#r soc-s oE there. 9e b#i1t hise1f #! to a scene, he was then not interested in writin/, at which !oint he irac#1o#s1y discovered, 6?h, b#t there is a story here, it*s 5#st not the one I tho#/htK It*s breathta-in/. I 1ove it, 1ove it. INT%RI%)%R o# once /ave a bea#tif#1 descri!tion of &ysses as bein/ 1i-e a cathedra1. FRAN%N
aybe y Joyce tie is sti11 coin/. I 1i-e ,ortrait o" the rtist a 1ot. I 1i-e #u%&iners even ore. "#t I can never sha-e the fee1in/ that, after those boo-s, Joyce was chasin/ a certain -ind of stat#s. 9e was inventin/ the very cate/ory in which he wanted his wor- to !1ace hi. And that*s where the cathedra1 ia/e coes froH I* /oin/ to b#i1d soethin/ /rand that yo#*re /oin/ to adire and st#dy for decades. There*s a sort of chi11y Jes#itica1 #a1ity to Joyce, and the Jes#its are, of co#rse, /reat stat#son/ers and e1itists. I* an o1d e/a1itarian idwesterner, and that -ind of !ersona1ity 5#st r#bs e the wron/ way. I +nd soeone 1i-e "ec-ett #ch ore sy!athetic. 9e*s often harder to read than Joyce, so it*s not a atter of the di3c#1ty. It*s the fee1in/ that "ec-ett is /oin/ after a rea11y !ersona11y fe1t horror and +ndin/ coedy and #niversa1ity in that horror. 9e*s obvio#s1y very concerned with 1an/#a/e, b#t the 1an/#a/e is in the service of soethin/ not ere1y tho#/ht b#t a1so "e&t . And that, to e, is a friend1ier enter!rise. I sho#1d a1so say soethin/ abo#t those words status and contract . Probab1y thro#/h fa#1ts of its own, y essay on 1iterary di3c#1ty and )i11ia >addis has been soewhat is#nderstood. The !riary thin/ I fai1ed to a-e c1ear was that the terino1o/y of status and contract was >addis*s own. As far as one can te11 fro his rather conf#sed and o!a#e non+ction writin/s, he was a bi/ stat#s /#y. 9e sees to have be1ieved that the wor1d rea11y was better oE in the 1ate idd1e A/es than it is today, when the wor1d is arran/ed by v#1/ar contract. 9e sees to have !referred the o1der stat#s syste, where hi/h was hi/h and 1ow was 1ow and /reat wor-s of art were #nderstood by very few. The reason I seized on those words is that status has another, ore coon eanin/ in this co#ntry=6stat#s sybo1, 61iterary stat#s, and so on. INT%RI%)%R Is the res!onse of critics i!ortant to yo# FRAN%N I*d be 1yin/ if I !retended that Terrence RaEerty*s vicio#s review of The Twenty Seventh City in The $ew 5orker didn*t have an eEect on the way I went abo#t writin/ Strong Motion . "asica11y, tho#/h, with very few eDce!tions, I sto!!ed readin/ y reviews after Jaes )ood*s !iece on The Corrections . I*d 1oo-ed to forward to it beca#se he can be a very !erce!tive reader, and I -new that we had soe coon eneies and enth#siass. And what he wrote was a #ibb1in/ and car!in/ and narrow1y censorio#s thin/, with a wi11f#11y dense isreadin/ of y Harper’s essay. That disa!!ointent, a1on/ with +fteen #nwise1y s!ent in#tes of >oo/1in/ yse1f in 200&, !retty we11 c#red e of the need to read abo#t yse1f. -
INT%RI%)%R And the overwhe1in/ res!onse to Freedom hasn*t chan/ed that FRAN%N Nah. INT%RI%)%R
)hat are !eo!1e issin/ or over1oo-in/ in yo#r wor- FRAN%N I thin- they ay be over1oo-in/ Strong Motion a 1itt1e bit. "#t what sees to e ost often over1oo-ed is that I consider yse1f essentia11y a coic writer. This was !artic#1ar1y tr#e with The #iscom"ort Zone , which I wrote for 1a#/hs, and which I* to1d wasn*t 1a#/hed at in a11 #arters. I* reinded of a very earnest yo#n/ Ita1ian an who cae #! to e after a readin/ in Roe at which I*d read soe of y brea-#! stories. 9e said to e, with this -ind of tra/ic face, 6I don*t #nderstand. o#*re readin/ abo#t !eo!1e who are /oin/ thro#/h terrib1e !ain, and everyone in the a#dience is 1a#/hin/. I don*t reeber what I said to hi, b#t I*d 1i-e to thin- I said, 6%Dact1y.