The Paris Review Interviews, IV

edited by Philip Gourevitch
Picador, 2009.

The fourth collection of author interviews printed in The Paris Review contains sixteen interviews, including those with William Styron, Jack Kerouac, E.B. White, P.G. Wodehouse, Maya Angelou, Haruki Murakami, Marilynne Robison, and more. The interviews are organized in chronological order, with the oldest published in 1954 and the most recent in 2008, just a year before this collection was printed.

The interviews are done in a variety of styles, from multiple meetings with an author to a live interview in front of an audience; in all cases, the authors are allowed to review the interview and edit, clarifying points before the interview sees print. This makes for a unique blend of artistry between the interviewer and author, as the conversation ranges from thoughts on writing and reading to politics and life in general. The type of writing the author is known for is identified at the beginning as "The Art of Fiction" or "The Art of Poetry," for example, and the interviewer frames the interview by outlining the writer's life and describing where they met and the conditions of the interview itself.

I received this book for my birthday three years ago. I started reading it immediately, but slowed down when I reached the fourth interview, that of E.B. White. He was identified as a writer of essays, while I only knew him as the author of Charlotte's Web and the other children's books. I thought I'd read his entire oeuvre has a child. So, before I read the interview, I had to first read a book of his essays. I didn't stop to read any other author's works before reading their interviews, but I was most interested in those of authors I've read. I loved Maya Angelou's, which was the one done in front of an audience. I was intrigued by the personal look into Marilynne Robinson's life and work, having read her three fiction titles. Though I expected to enjoy the authors I was familiar with, I was surprised at how much I was interested in the interview with Stephen Sondheim, as he talked about the art of writing musicals. There is such a variety of authors and opinions in here, that I can confidently say there's something for anyone interesting in authors and the writing process.

The Book that Changed My Life

edited by Diane Osen
New York : Modern Library, 2002.

This collection of interviews with fifteen National Book Award winners and finalists highlights the award-winning books and investigates the books that influence these writers of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. The interviews are with James Carroll, Don DeLillo, E.L. Doctorow, Charles Johnson, Diane Johnson, Philip Levine, Davis Levering Lewis, Barry Lopez, David McCullough, Alice McDermott, Cynthia Ozick, Grace Paley, Linda Pastan, Katherine Paterson, and Robert Stone, and are organized alphabetically by last name. All of them are followed by a list of the author's books through 2002 (when this book was published), and all but one include a list of works that influenced the author, some of which are usually mentioned in the interview.

I appreciated the variety of authors and their approach to writing represented in this collection. I started making a list of all the books mentioned at the end so I could see which titles are mentioned repeatedly, and I added a few of the authors to my ever-growing TBR list. My enjoyment of these interviews was slightly hampered by the fact that I've only read books by three of the authors highlighted (Katherine Paterson, David McCullough and E.L. Doctorow) and had only read the award-winning book for one (The Great Gilly Hopkins). Some of the questions deal with the winning or finalist book, and little care is taken to prevent spoilers, making this a difficult way to discover a new-to-you author. Diane Osen has clearly done her homework by reading the entire oeuvre of the interviewed author as well as the books that influenced them; this comes through in the interviews positively in that she's able to ask very interesting, probing questions, but on the flip side it's more challenging for the reader who doesn't have that same background to follow along with the answers. A mixed bag, but I'm glad I read it.

Travels with Charley

by John Steinbeck
New York, N.Y., U.S.A. : Penguin Books, 1997 (originally published 1962).

Right from the beginning, Steinbeck admits to always having a bit of wanderlust and a desire to travel. This particular trip is brought on by his realization that, for all his writing about America, he hadn't actually been outside his small corner of it for some time. So, he buys a truck specially made for his trip, equipped with everything he will need (ie., booze), takes his trusty poodle Charley, and hightails it out of New York on a cross-country trip.

This is a short book that contains much to think about. You might think that reading about a trip taken over fifty years ago would have little to say about our country and Americans today, but you would miss a lot if you focused on that aspect alone. Steinbeck recounts specifics of his journey and conversations with individuals, yes, but this is also a rumination on the human spirit - particularly the American spirit. The book has many passages that are even more relevant today than they were then (his thoughts on change, the growth of cities, and regional speech differences come immediately to mind). Steinbeck's journey is as much a quest and a window into his own internal world as it is a discovery of his country. His observations are witty, often humorous, and always thought-provoking. I found myself lingering over a sentence or paragraph here and there, wanting to draw out my reading experience instead of just finishing the book quickly and ticking it off. Whether you enjoy travel narratives, a book group choice, or just plain good, descriptive writing, I highly recommend this book.

Author Interviews - the Paris Review anthology

The Paris Review Interviews, Vol. 1

Full disclosure: I didn't want to read this book. I'd requested it from the library on a whim after hearing Philip Gourevitch on Nancy Pearl's "Book Lust" podcast talking about his work selecting the "best of" author interviews from The Paris Review for this collection series. The book came in along with a bunch of other interlibrary loans, and as the due date approached, I picked it up. I hadn't read many of the featured authors, and those that I had were not really to my taste. So I started reading it with the plan that after the requisite 50 pages, I would be able to return it to the library and thus whittle down my stack.

Then I read the first interview, featuring Dorothy Parker. She was a hoot! I've never read any of her stories, but after so enjoying her sense of humor, I was ready to check out her complete short story collection from my library. Still not entirely convinced to keep reading, I approached the next interviews with some trepidation: Truman Capote and Ernest Hemingway. Both men had such intriguing things to say about their writing. Alright, so I probably won't read any Hemingway besides The Old Man and the Sea which I read for school, but it was awfully encouraging to see him poking a little bit of fun at the folks who saw a symbol in everything. Now in the full thrall of these interviews, I started taking my time, reading two or three interviews a day, spacing it out so I didn't get my authors confused or crowd out a particularly satisfying one with the next.

Two in particular stand out to me: those featuring Kurt Vonnegut and Robert Gottlieb. Vonnegut's impressed me because it helped me to understand his writing a bit more. I read Slaughterhouse-Five last year, and didn't really like it. I could appreciate what he was doing, but had trouble following and making sense of the narrative, and I had the sneaking suspicion that the author was dangling the story in front of me with the taunt "I know something you don't know." As he talked about his experience in World War 2 during this interview, especially the bombing of Dresden, I started to realize that much of this was what he knew from the war and began to wonder if part of the challenge with the form of the story was that he didn't really know how to make sense of it either. Though it didn't change my personal opinion of the book, it gave me a bit more insight into what went into it. The second stand out was the discussion with Robert Gottlieb. Rather than a traditional interview, it was more like the transcript of a documentary in which not only he himself but several of the writers whom he had edited talked about working with him in the editing process. This method gave me a very fleshed out, holistic impression of him as an editor and reader, and I really enjoyed the fresh approach.

So from reluctantly picking it up with the plan of abandoning it, I've transformed in the reading to not wanting to return it to the library. My wishlist has grown by three books, because I'm certain I'll want to read the other compilations in this series as well.