Yesterday, 40 MFA students locked Lorrie Moore inside a basement and prodded her with long, pointed questions.

Here's a transcript, lightly abridged by my ADD, of Moore's thoughts and responses.

-Moore says she "may be the only writer constantly discouraged from writing novels. I try not to take it personally." As most of you already know, Moore's currently working on a novel.

-(Before I arrived at the Q & A, I decided that if any student asked about "the autobiographical elements" in "People Like That are The Only People Here," I'd allow myself to glare.) A frizzy-haired girl with an overly loud voice asks about "the autobiographical elements" in "People Like That are The Only People Here." Moore's response makes note of the impersonal titles, instead of names, assigned to the story's characters ("the Mother," "the Husband," "the Baby," "the Surgeon"). That stylistic choice, she goes on to say, was meant to convey something about catastrophe's ability to turn people into "roles," and people's desperate reliance on "domestic scripts." (She slightly rolls script's r. Her pronounciation of words throughout the Q & A feels very prep school posh.)

-At Cornell, where she did her MFA, she never missed a class, and looked down on classmates who "took the weekends off" from writing. (This made my heart, and a couple other organs in close vicinity, sink with Titanic-like finality. I used to feel that way, too, but nowadays only apply discipline to work-avoidance.)

-Someone asks if she's brought anything she's learned from teaching (Moore teaches English at the University of Wisconsin in Madison) to her writing. The only thing teaching really does, Moore says, is pay for groceries. (Her books don't make good money? I'm surprised. Her last was a bestseller.)

-Moore breifly discusses the benefits of setting work aside for a month or two and then coming back to it with fresh eyes. She also mentions how much she can't stand reading her first two collections, though she recently opened up Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? and loved it. "Can I still write this well?" she asked herself -- and then, "Should I have just written little novels" about teenage girls my whole career? (Readers who agree with me that, compared to her story collections, Frog Hospital is shit, might wonder if this undermines her claim that time gives her self-assessments more objectivity.)

-She thinks a writer's last novels tend to never be his best. She thinks Philip Roth's most recent books are lousy.

(-Observation: when students ask her about particular quotes from interviews, she never remembers having said them. We know her interviews much better than she does.)

-Moore's asked how it feels to be so widely copied. (Many girls give nervous smiles.) "I don't know anything about that," Moore responds.

-Moore talks about a writer's need to find "their voice." She's heard that other teachers assign excercises requiring students to imitate famous writers, but she's unsure those excercises are helpful. Ethan Canin, the Q & A moderator, mentions that when he was younger, he liked to type out passages from favorite novels, and that, in the olden days, this was common practice for beginning writers. Moore mentions that she recently had to retype some paragraphs by Updike for use as quotes in a review. She really enjoyed that, particularly because she was getting paid by the word.

-She's asked who she reads. "I read everybody," she says. She's asked again. She reads everybody, except for authors in translation. Having had her own work translated, she suspects that translations are often unfaithful to authorial intent. (To be honest, people's reluctance to read translations annoys me. I explained why here [scroll down to part II].)

-Moore says she reads very slowly, and thinks most writers do. (Ethan -- whose questions have so far been responded to by Moore with bewildered "No"s or "Next question?" -- is very happy to add, I read slowly, too.)

-Moore's asked about her similes and metaphors by a classmate who once gave a good speech in class on Moore's similes and metaphors. How do they function in her work? What is she trying to accomplish by using them? "I don't think about that," Moore answers.

-Prodded further, Moore says that her similes help "register voice and rhythm," and probably point to the "inadequacy of the original description."

-Moore talks about her similes some more. Some that seem normal or obvious to her have seemed "dangerously odd" to others. She recalls that, in her first New Yorker story, a line -- something like Alarm buzzed through her like a low-level tea. -- got cut by an editor who didn't think it made much sense. But, by the time the story was set to reappear in a collection. she'd reincluded it. (Back home, I found the line on p.85 of Like Life. From "You're Ugly, Too": "Alarm buzzed through her, mildy, like a tea.")

-She almost always has a story's ending in mind before starting it. Then, one-third into the story, the ending becomes clearer, and she skips ahead and writes it.

-A student asks how she goes about assigning characters their jobs, "something poets don't need to think about." It's a "real weakness for me," Moore says. She keeps on accidentally letting characters work at historical societies.

-Moore describes the process of writing a short story: First comes "some idea"; then, "things fall in from the world" -- things that have "correspondence" to that first idea; and eventually, there's a moment when the story "closes" shut and becomes a "hot house … of a fictional world."

-She's asked about motherhood's effects on her writing. "For my writing, it's been terrible. For my life," she pauses, and then says flatly, "good."

-On the other hand, she says that "Marriage is very good for writing. Most writers are married … it cuts the solitude of writing." She continues, "The trick [for writers] is not to be too busy or too lonely … Solitude, with company built into it — that's the best thing."

-The Q & A's last question brings up the title story in Like Life. Why was that the title story? Actually, Moore says, she wanted to name the book after the story "Vissi d'Arte," but the people in marketing didn't like foreign words. And, though "Like Life" won the title slot, she believes it's "the most failed story in the collection. It wasn't what I wanted it to be at all." (I want to write, Like Life?)

#

Snagged from the University of Central Florida's website, Lorrie Moore and T-shirt Simulacra:

Official Caption: "English Department with Lorrie Moore." And, somehow, the moment seems ripe for a Lorrie Moore short story.

Posted by nchicha at April 3, 2004 09:39 PM
Comments

I was, of course, predisposed to love her, and I did. I'm interested to hear your opinions, Nathalie. When Ethan was asked by someone how the Q & A went, he said privately that "Lorrie is very awkward." I didn't notice that really at all. Or, to the extent that she was, it only made the awkwardness of her characters seem more authentic and endearing.

Later, at the party, she bummed a cigarette from me and I swooned. I gave her a ride back to her hotel in my Subaru but started going the wrong way. I said, "Am I going the wrong way?" And she said, "Well, maybe not the wrong way, just the opposite way." Then she quietly fastened her seatbelt.

Posted by: Lila on April 4, 2004 11:18 AM

During the Q & A, I felt a little bad for Ethan; his questions to Lorrie so often devolved into asking her to relate to him and his writing process. And when she, very simply and honestly, admitted she didn't, we had to laugh -- "awkward" for Ethan, sure, but not for us.

Also, really, an awkward writer's just a writer. That goes double for a beloved writer -- which Lorrie is for most of us. So she has a certain "right" to awkwardness, a "right" that translates awkwardness into something else: self-assuredness, or an uncomprimising manner.

So, anyway, all that to say: I didn't find her awkward. I was a little bummed that she wasn't more interested in the theoretical aspects of writing. Also, like I said, I get annoyed (for very personal reasons) when writers say they avoid translations. (I mean, what's worse? Insularity or some possible disrespect to authorial intention?)

Still, I've loved Moore since the end of high school, and I felt so lucky to finally see her in person. (Having her in my car would upgrade that to, like, fucking lucky.)

Posted by: Nathalie Chicha on April 5, 2004 12:01 AM

I got the same sense of her from the reading she gave about a week ago in Chicago. A woman gave her a hyperbolic introduction which even made me uncomfortable and which caused Moore to be a little prickly with her, especially during the Q & A after the reading. The woman even made a reference to how one writes about a baby with cancer which made me want to throw something. Moore took it in stride.

Posted by: Peter K. on April 5, 2004 02:22 AM

For some reason, I am reminded of the David Sedaris piece called "Malson", or something like that.

Posted by: stephenb on April 5, 2004 08:23 AM

I don't see what's wrong with being interested in a favorite author's bio and psychology.

"Well, maybe not the wrong way, just the opposite way," is priceless. I would have puked on myself and driven into a meter to my eternal shame.

Posted by: Peter K. on April 5, 2004 01:06 PM

We were talking a moment ago about your satire of academia and I was wondering if you ever went through a theory-head stage.

"Well, you know, I'm familiar with it. I never got really completely immersed. I was at Cornell where Jonathan Culler is, and where Derrida was a visiting professor for a bit, and so it was really very much, you know, in the corridors and in the conversation at Cornell. And as writers we couldn't stay away from it because the writing program was so tiny that we were part of this English department. It wasn't like Iowa where all you know is writers. We hung out with all the other graduate students who were clearly immersed in theory. I did take a couple of courses and read the books and I did find it interesting initially. Although the complete removal of the author from every single text was always a little alarming to me. You know, going back home and trying to write your own. On the other hand I thought it was a useful way of talking about work too, sometimes. And sometimes I thought it was a wasteful and ridiculous way depending upon which theory and which critic you're talking about. And I think my first novel, "Anagrams," has a little bit of that sort of jokingly running through it. The idea of shifting realities and parallel narratives and all of that. It's a kind of cubist structure, but perhaps it owes something to a little bit of exposure to that at Cornell. But in general, I, like most writers, am not that interested in it."

Posted by: on April 5, 2004 04:47 PM

http://dir.salon.com/books/int/1998/10/cov_27int.html

Posted by: on April 5, 2004 04:48 PM

When I was looking for a Lorrie Moore pic, I came across that Salon interview and read the quote you mentioned.

Again, I like Moore's work. But the attitude, encouraged at Iowa and probably by Moore in her workshops, that writing is a craft, and not a fully intellectual undertaking, depresses me.

But, back to the quote: her dislike for postmodernist work on "the author" is 100% congruous with her dislike for reading fiction in translation. To my mind, resistance to reading translations almost always goes back to how conservative your views towards authorship are.

Posted by: Nathalie Chicha on April 5, 2004 06:03 PM

I was surprised, too, about LM's comments on reading works in translation. How are we to read Tolstoy or Chekhov or Proust, let alone Marquez or Kundera? She seemed to be suggesting that because translation was a collaborative process, the integrity of "the sentence" was compromised. I don't think we read books simply for the sentence, or that a literally rendered sentence is preferable to a coherent and artful one. I'll opt for the compromise of translation over the limitations of only reading English-language prose any day.

Posted by: Paula on April 6, 2004 02:08 PM

How come nobody asked her why she hasn't had a book published in a kajillion years?

Posted by: on April 14, 2004 02:15 PM

Yeah, how come she hasn't had a book published after Birds of America?

Posted by: on May 5, 2004 10:50 AM

If anyone can reach her somehow, I would really like her to know she got an "adoring" French-Canadian fan in Québec, Canada. I'm afraid I'll have somehow to go to detox 'cause after reading her books, I feel like reading ONLY her books. I've bought them all and read them all in a binge, feeling somewhat guilty but nonetheless reading them ALL and buying them all.Of course,I've read millions of books since I am 45 years old. Well, is there a NEW book somewhere in the world? Tell her to hurry.

Posted by: carole veilleux on May 5, 2004 10:57 AM
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