George Saunders on the manuscripts of successful applicants to Syracuse University:
--the sense that it’s not just showing off
--it’s an instinct that there’s a person behind this story…[I couldn’t hear the rest and my notes seem to indicate that he went on to discuss giving them “craft” or “crack” {probably not} maybe “a crack” like a crack at Syracuse? I need to work on my handwriting]
--sometimes it’s a mess [the questioner asked if the work that stood out was most often “polished” or “complete”]
--but if it feels real, if it has a human soul, an intelligence and a kindness—I’m excited by those people.
Me too, Mr. Saunders. Saunders himself seems like such a kind man (this based on the two minutes where I blabbed away about how much I loved him and he managed to make it far less awkward than this kind of exchange usually is, especially for me. Some people seem to manage to get their books signed gracefully and without humiliation. The others in attendance [Toochi, Big Concrete, Glass as Selves, and Beefsteak/T-Bone] strike me as just such people). He also managed to answer the question (I seriously love Q&As so much) “Is it difficult to get published?” in a sincere and still somehow encouraging way—he seemed genuinely stupefied by how difficult it actually is.
In addition to bad handwriting, I have very poor hearing (this is why I talk so loud, people) but I wanted to add these little notes and misquotes because they touch on what I love so much about Saunders the interviewee (as opposed to the writer): this willingness to be earnest, to be heartfelt, to say plainly these essential things, the ones that, if said in workshop, or at least the workshops I’ve been in, might be deemed too sentimental. Too gushy-mushy. I’m big gushy mushy mess, though, and I love George Saunders big time for being so honest and plainspoken/eloquent (how does he manage both?) about what, while it may seem obvious, seems to not even be taken into consideration in the workshop setting (again, in my experience). Or maybe I was too busy taking notes during all those workshops to notice when we talked about the kindness and soul behind the stories that were up that night?
For more of this goodness, check out this interview. The last answer in particular, I love.
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PS I took lots of notes at the Franzen round table today, maybe I’ll post some of those later? I’ll do my best to edit out the blushes and swoons. Though if given the choice between marrying “Sea Oak” the story or Jonathan Franzen the man, I’d have to say it would be a tough call. Would people like to read some of what he said this afternoon? I don’t want to drone on (or rather, transcribe on) if it’s repetetive/ not of interest.
yes, I would like to hear what Franzen said at the roundtable. And I am just stunned by the answer to that last interview question. Maybe my cold medication has made me a little loopy & sentimental, but I'm going to paste in the Q & A here and then excuse myself to cry quietly in the corner.
failbetter: What is the most crucial bit of advice you give to your students in regards to approaching and following through with their own works of fiction?
Saunders: Well, I don't know that I would give this advice directly, but I would like to somehow communicate art as an essential moral function. It should, as Chekhov said, prepare us for tenderness. And in this regard it starts, I think, with intention. If our intention is to be clever, or have a career, or imitate so- and-so, then, even if you succeed, it's not such a big deal. But if our intention is to crack life open for just a second, expose the inherent laziness and habitual energy in our normal thought, then we almost can't go wrong...even our failures are successes
of a sort. So I try to convey that, by trying to remind myself of that, in my teaching and my writing. We really don't know anything, and writing and reading seem to be terrific ways to remind ourselves that nothing—no worldview, no idea, no thing, no person, no thought—is permanent. And paradoxically, this belief in impermanence helps us see life more truly and live more fully and behave better.
ahhhh....
oh please. i'd love to here what Franzen said at the round table. I'm so glad you're such a nice transcriber.
Hey bizness, I would love any notes you take at his lecture tonight. I can't make it because my little pukepots need some instruction. You know what I mean. Here's to Singer's Solution to World Poverty. If any of them kill the kid, I think I'll just cry and call Saunders and ask how he feels about polygamy. I am from Utah, after all. And did you see his boots?! On a serious note, I love that he will say things as grandiose as "And paradoxically, this belief in impermanence helps us see life more truly and live more fully and behave better." Who says things like this anymore? We are trained to be so critical, often forgetting that writing can actually be a worthwhile and important endeavor. I need a constant reminder of this. I'm taping up Mr. -I-am-a-god-in-nice-boots-and-with-nice-facial-hair's interview response as I type this pointless thing.
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