Late-Bloomer
Louis Begley Delivers with his New Schmidt
Interview
by Alden Mudge
From Bookpage
During a telephone
conversation from his office in New York, Louis
Begley quickly rattles through an impressive list of other writers who began
publishing late in life. Then, with characteristic understated humor, Begley
adds, "I think it would be highly unlikely that one would successfully begin
writing poetry at the age of 56. But novels are different."
No
doubt. Begley proved this in 1991, when he became a first-time novelist at 56.
The accomplishment is even more remarkable, considering that he wrote
the novel while on a four-month sabbatical from his law firm, where he is senior
partner and still practices full-time. Based partly on his experiences as a
Jewish child in Nazi-occupied Poland, Wartime
Lies won the Hemingway/ PEN award and the Prix Médicis Étranger, France's
highest award for fiction in translation.
Begley
followed that with The
Man Who Was Late (1992) and As
Max Saw It (1994). Both were critical and popular successes. Then, in
About
Schmidt (1996), Begley delivered what a Toronto Sun critic called
his "most surprising book," and created his most compelling, perplexing, even
controversial protagonist, Albert Schmidt.
A
tough, WASP establishment lawyer who is unmoored by the death of his wife and
a deepening rift with his only child, Charlotte, Albert Schmidt at first seems
to be merely an embodiment of the stiff prejudices of his class. But Begley
lifts the veil and creates an intelligent, sympathetic portrait of an increasingly
self-aware man in pursuit of unvarnished emotional truth.
Schmidt is a character
who lingers in a reader's mind. He has apparently also lingered in Louis Begley's
mind. Hence Begley's newest novel, Schmidt
Delivered.
"My
interest in Schmidt has to do with questions of heredity versus nurture in his
relations with his daughter Charlotte," Begley says. "It may be my time
of life, it may be the time in which we live, but I am riveted to the relationship
between Schmidt and Charlotte. For instance, why is it that it turns out badly
between parents and children? And why is it that we ourselves turn out the way
we are? Why is it that we find traces-the least lovable traces-of our parents
in ourselves? How is it that we do not manage to stop ourselves from transmitting
those very traces to our own children?"
Begley notes
that Schmidt "is clearly not a choirboy." But he expresses surprise at the level
of contempt directed at his protagonist by some critics of the earlier novel,
who focused on Schmidt's anti-Semitism, evidenced mainly in Schmidt's reaction
to his daughter's plan to marry Jon Riker, a young lawyer in Schmidt's firm.
"This crowd of people thinks that characters in novels are supposed to be nice,"
Begley says. "If one sets aside Victorian novels, where are the nice protagonists
of good novels? I don't know any."
In
Begley's view, Schmidt is essentially a very decent man, struggling with his
limitations. "He's not your card-carrying anti-Semite. He is a man who is full
of prejudices, some of them comical, some of them less comical. He is quite
conscious of the undesirability of his prejudices but he also knows that they
are a part of him. We all have dirty little secrets.... One of the things a
decent man or woman must do is keep these things under control. Schmidt is not
someone who would ever harm a Jew, by word or action. It's just part of his
variegated soul."
In fact, Schmidt's
saving grace is that over the course of these two novels, he grows in empathy
and self-awareness. Begley attributes much of that growth to Schmidt's increasing
love for the magical Carrie, a young Puerto Rican waitress Schmidt meets in
a local restaurant.
"My interest
in writing this book is really a double interest," Begley says. "An interest
in Schmidt and an interest in Carrie. I think of Carrie in a way as a noble
savage. But it goes much beyond that because she is a very complex young woman
-- extremely tough, gifted, shrewd, courageous and wildly beautiful. She humanizes
Schmidt. And I'm simply not willing to let her go, anymore than I'm willing
to let Schmidt go."
Which
leads Begley to muse on the limitations that Schmidt must ultimately face. "I'm
generally interested in that perception that one has, at a certain point, of
one's own limitations and the limitations of others. People start out in life
thinking that anything is possible, for them and for others. As they go along,
if they have their eyes open, they see that there isn't just an unlimited potentiality.
There is a point beyond which one cannot go, however much one tries. And a point
beyond which people one loves intensely and for whom one would have one's right
hand cut off will never progress. How does one come to terms with that?"
Begley explores
the serious questions of this novel with a deft, often playful touch. He offers,
for example, a marvelous comic portrait of Mr. Mansour, a billionaire who takes
the reluctant Schmidt under his wing.
"Mr. Mansour and
his circus!" Begley exclaims with evident delight. "He's a sort of godlike figure,
a pagan god, who can bestow great benefactions. He'll screw things up in the
most extraordinary ways. He's also full of himself. Absolutely certain that
he can fix everything. One of the funny things about very rich men is that they
think they will have life eternal -- because money is eternal.... I have an
interest in what you might call the darkly humorous side of society. I mean
I have fun with that."
Both
the seriousness and the fun of Schmidt Delivered are carried by prose
that is astonishingly clear and precise. Begley is a masterful stylist, which
is also remarkable, given that he is not a native speaker of English. "Obviously
I speak English well," he says, "but you'd be surprised how one's language falls
apart when one is trying to write. I don't think this is true of native writers:
suddenly you are unsure of the construction of any sentence. So I am a compulsive
reviser; to get a paragraph written is like working on a chain gang breaking
stones. At the same time I must say that after I've written a page or two, I
realize it is also the happiest of occupations because it leaves me with a great
sense of happiness, a happiness that I don't experience in other contexts.
"For me," Begley
continues, "the real goal is to write something that is not boring. That may
sound very simple, stupid really, but it is true. My wife reads everything I
write as I write it, and I say to her, 'Don't tell me whether it's good or bad.
Just tell me whether or not it is boring.'"
Schmidt Delivered
is not boring.
Schmidt
Delivered
Search
for all Louis
Begley's books!
Further reading:
Molly
Gloss
Jerome
Charyn
Kat
Meads
John
Crowley
Alden Mudge
writes from Oakland, California.
Browse
Archived Interviews Browse
Archived Excerpts
|