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Lee
Smith
Interviewed
by Gavin J. Grant
BookSense.com:
In The
Last Girls four women take a trip down the Mississippi river -- emulating
a trip they took 35 years earlier. Are you still in touch with your college classmates
who you took the trip with 1966? What do they think of the book?
Lee Smith:
Yes, I'm still in close touch with two of the "girls," and I see several others
whenever circumstances permit --but we are a far-flung lot, and I've completely
lost touch with a few of them. I sent galley proofs to my two good friends,
however, and they love the book.One of them -- feminist scholar and critic Anne
Jones -- is already deconstructing me! The other -- Washington journalist Nancy
Head Beckham -- claims to recognize little bits and pieces of everybody here
and there
throughout the
novel; she called the characters "composites." I guess that's about right.
Initially, I'd
thought about looking all the girls up, conducting interviews, and doing a non-fiction
book. But a few conversations put an end to that! I realized immediately that
these women really wouldn't want me to publish all the private, painful, juicy
stuff they were telling me, and I really didn't want to spill the beans myself,
to tell about the times and the people who've most shaped my own emotional life.
I'm no memoirist; I treasure my privacy.
So, since it's
always easier for me to tell the truth in fiction anyway, The Last Girls
is a novel. Its characters actually are fictitious, though after spending so
much time with them, they seem more real to me now than my neighbors. But I
imagine my major themes might have been somewhat the same, regardless of whether
the book ended up as nonfiction or fiction. Through women's stories, I wanted
to explore the idea of romance, the relevance of past to present, the themes
of memory and desire.
If someone
proposed going on a raft down the Mississippi now, what would you say?
If
someone proposed a raft trip down the Mississippi right now, I'd say "yes" in
a minute. I've always been an adventurer at heart. My two previous voyages have
taught me that no matter what might go wrong, (and a lot went wrong on our original
trip) or how much they try to commercialize it (the riverboat cruise) there
is still a sense of vast grandeur and possibility about the river itself, a
brooding aura of history and timelessness that can't be spoiled by any number
of water-skiers or crinolined belles or Aunt Jemima salt shakers or "Forget,
Hell!" beach towels for sale.
The river is real.
It is wide and deep and full of mystery, with a story around every bend. And
each voyage is a completely different voyage, of course, since we are different
people every time.
Finally, each voyage
is a voyage of self-discovery. I like that. One of the reasons I write fiction
in the first place is that I'm trying to lead an examined life. A repeat trip
is a way of keeping tabs on yourself -- much like a college or family reunion.
What did you
think of the modern riverboats? Did you enjoy it?
I did enjoy the
modern riverboat cruise, though the experience was entirely different from the
original trip, of course. But then the original trip was different from what
we expected. We had wrecks, rain, bug bites, sunburn, lots of really hard work,
and too much media attention for the kind of pastoral idyll we had expected.
So one of the themes
of this novel is just that: the gap between expectation and reality, especially
in regard to women's lives.
Was it hard
to write about the girls when they were in college? Do you have as many photo
albums and scrapbooks as Courtney, one of the characters in the novel?
It
was surprisingly easy to write those college scenes. I believe that everything
which happens to us when we are young is imprinted upon us much more forcibly
-- indelibly -- than later events. Perhaps this is because a young person is
a tabula rasa. Never again will we feel so deeply -- will we experience such
joy, such despair, such humiliation, such desire, such idealistic swelling of
the soul, etc. Writing this book was a way for me to tap back into my own younger,
more passionate mindset, my earlier life. So the girls were easy. They were
right there waiting for me.
Okay, I confess
-- I do have a lot of photo albums. But, unlike Courtney, I don't believe
I can control anybody's life by affixing his photo onto the page with those
comforting triangular tabs. I know I can't pin anybody down, not in real life,
which I have pretty much given up on. Writing fiction allows us to create some
kind of order (no matter how fragile or arbitrary or contrived or temporary
it may be) from that confusing, disorderly, seething mass of conrtradictions
we call Real Life.
Do you identify
with any of The Last Girls more than the others?
I
identify most with Harriet -- I've been a teacher for many years, and I've especially
enjoyed working with women returning to school, as well as new readers in literacy
and GED programs who are empowered to tell their own stories for the first time.
But luckily I'm
not Harriet -- no traumatic event ever came along to place a psychological
bell jar over my life, arresting me emotionally at a certain point -- this happened
to Harriet, not me. But there's a certain way in which I am Harriet,
too; there's a certain way in which I am everybody, each one of these girls.
Maybe I've got multiple personality disorder...but seriously, this is another
reason I write fiction: I'm greedy, I want to have more than one life. (Each
of these girls became a little too real, frankly, during the writing
of this book; I felt like the uneasy captain of a ship of mutineers, each one
ready to seize the wheel, throw me overboard, and take over the novel.)
Anna, another
character in The Last Girls, is a romance novelist. Have you ever written
straight-ahead romance novels? If you did, would you use a pseudonym, and if
so, what would it be?
No, I never have
written straight-ahead romance novels, though I confess that once during a period
when I was particularly broke, I sent off for the guidelines and tried it. But
it didn't work -- my characters were too rowdy and willful, they wouldn't stay
within their ordained plot. It
is much harder to write romances than scornful artistes suppose; it is very
hard. I had already picked my pseudonym: Desiree Jones.
Do
you think storytelling in the South has changed in the last century?
Storytelling
in the South has changed as the South has changed. For instance, in the 1930s,
the South was two-thirds rural. Now it is more than two-thirds urban. Half of
all Southerners were farmworkers in the 1930s; now that figure is at two percent.
Our Southern birth rate, once famously above the national average, is now below
it. This means that immigration is defining the South's growing (and increasingly
multicultural) population.
So we've got a
very different South down here from, say, Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha -- even though
a few of the stereotypes still obtain. We may be less poor, but we are still
violent, we are still fiercely family-oriented, and we are still crazy religious.
We will bring you a casserole, but we'll kill you, too.
Here's the main
thing that has not changed about the South, in my opinion: Southerners
still love a story -- this goes for all Southerners, black, white, old,
young, rural or urban -- and we will tell you anything. You don't even
have to ask. Just start talking to us. Even the dullest information is often
transmitted in the form of anecdote, of story. This is not likely to change
anytime soon, as it appears to be genetic -- though the subject matter is changing,
of course. I'm waiting for a big new Hispanic novel right now.
Was there a
female equivalent of Mark Twain -- or did the times not allow it?
I
don't believe there was a female equivalent of Mark Twain, who traveled everywhere,
and wrote about everything; at that time, the woman's sphere -- and therefore,
the woman writer's sphere -- was more domestic, though Willa
Cather managed a greater geographic range than most.
Kate
Chopin, my favorite writer of Twain's era, was literally mired in the bayou
mud of her Louisiana family life; while Ellen
Glasgow -- another favorite -- stuck close to the concerns of her Virginia
home.
Have you ever
written a book from the male point of view?
I have never written
an entire book from the male point of view, though I have done this in several
short stories. Oddly enough, I find that I always write my first draft in longhand
when it's a woman's voice -- but I have to type if it's a man's! I like to
write from the male point of view, however; one of my favorite sections in The
Last Girls is Russell's. But I should confess that it's harder for me --
I can hear what they say, but I'm never sure what they're really thinking.
Do you have
a good memory? Do you trust it? When you and the other girls get together, are
you ever surprised by their memories of events?
I
have a terrible memory myself -- and actually, I'm not sure I even believe
in memory.
I have done a lot
of oral history work over the years, and I have been struck again and again
by how very different people's stories about the same event can be. This is
true even in our own families. For instance, in talking with my cousins about
the Sunday dinners at our grandparents' which we all attended for years, I got
five completely different versions of what went on and what the family dynamics
were. We could have been in different families!
But you know, it's
always the storyteller's tale. Always. This one reason I like to write from
the first person point of view -- it lets me off the hook; I'm not responsible
for telling the truth, only one person's version of it. And in a novel with
several first-person narrators, a king of composite truth may finally emerge.
Do you have
any advice for young women writers?
My advice for young
women writers is just do it. Don't wait for some ideal point in your life when
you will finally have "time to write." No sane person ever has time to write.
Don't clean the bathroom, don't paint the hall. Write. Claim your time. And
remember that a writer is a person who is writing, not a person who is publishing.
If you are serious about it, you will realize early on that (particularly if
you expect to have children) you can't take on a high-power career in addition
to writing. You probably can't be a surgeon, and have children, and
"write on the side." (On the other hand, you could marry a surgeon, thereby
solving the whole problem.)
What
are you reading?
Right now I am
reading Ian McEwan's Atonement,
which is terrific.
Do you like
going to bookstores and doing readings? Do you have a favorite bookshop?
I
love going to bookstores, doing readings and signing books. We writers spend
so much time alone in our little rooms (alone in our little heads, too) that
it's a great relief and pleasure to go out and actually meet readers. After
all, writing is a means of communication -- something we tend to forget.
The reader is the other part of the equation.
It
would be impossible for me to pick favorites among bookstores. My local favorites
include Quail Ridge in Raleigh,
owned by my friend Nancy Olson; they do great events there. Nancy has such a
loyal clientele that it often seems like a clubhouse instead of a store. To
visit McIntyres[1] in Chapel Hill is to visit a favorite
aunt -- it's got those big soft armchairs and that perfumey smell. The
Regulator in Durham attracts an intense, interesting crowd; their questions
will put you on the spot. I love Paul Ingram's store, Prairie
Lights, in Iowa City -- I love how much he loves the books he sells.
But they feed you
best down in Oxford, Mississippi. I will never forget the meal I had once after
a reading at Square Books: fried catfish
at the Taylor Grocery, served with a green onion, two slices of white bread,
and a couple inches of vodka in a mason jar.
If you worked
at one of these bookstores what would be on your Staff Picks shelf?
On
the "Staff Picks" shelf, I would have:
 
The
Last Girls
[1]
McIntyre's, 2000 Fearrington Village, Pittsboro, NC; 919-542-3030; http://www.fearringtonvillage.com/mcintyres.asp
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