Along with Brian Whitener, I will be reading in Chicago (at Elastic) on December 22nd in the Discrete Series, hosted by Kerri Sonnenberg.
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Fence Magazine will be publishing another work story. This one is from the MFA years. For what it's worth, 5_Trope published another from the same time period earlier this year.
*
Nothing Moments will be publishing a collaborative book of my work stories--eight of them--and the responsive artwork of Edgar Arceneaux. It is part of a larger project, of twenty writers joined with twenty artists. "Once the books are made there will be an exhibition in Los Angeles at Angstrom Gallery of all the books and drawings. And also MOCA will be having a book reading and signing."
October 18, 2006
I was glad to finally read IV Crisis of Said's Orientalism. He counters an unnamed claim that the transfer of systemic knowledge through books couldn't be used as the hinge by which to speak of the construction of realities. He then uses the case of travel books to build his case, building a "textual attitude" of places, not the real thing. He then talks about the influence of these fabrications through time, and the power of these fabrications to influence readers. Part of my reluctance of this critique is situated in the issue of the pretty small amount of people who do actually read books in general. The critique seems to miss a huge population of people who don't read anything, aren't influenced by books in the least, unless it's through a teleplay. I'm also reluctant to believe the heavy force of speculation due to my own memories of books that I've read--that is, after a while, I don't remember what I've read.
October 11, 2006
AN INTERVERSATION WITH LAURA SIMS
James Wagner: I seem to be interested in "place" right now, for which I don't really have any explanation. I tend to move through strong connections to certain ideas for awhile and then move on to others. So I am more mindful of this place and time and so on.... You are currently living in Japan, and will be for a few more months. Do you feel displaced right now as a writer? Are you able to write? I never seem to be able to write in a new place for quite some time. And, if you are writing, what are you writing?
Laura Sims: In the past few months of living in Tokyo, I’ve had to force myself, intermittently, to be "nowhere" in order to write – I’ve had to block out my experience of being in this new/old place (I lived in Japan from 1995-1998, so this is not entirely new terrain, although Tokyo is), because otherwise it would be too distracting. But here’s the rub – I’m in a foreign country, for the TWIN purposes of A) writing and B) experiencing Place, but immersing myself in Place distracts me from writing, and immersing myself in writing obscures Place. How to balance both? Place generally wins —it’s easy enough to simulate that sense of "nowhereness" in city cafes with my iBook in front of me for a few days in a row, but then I get antsy. I want to be seeing and doing right now, not sitting and writing (I decide)! So we go on a short trip, I get intoxicated with Place, and just want to keep traveling. But then I feel guilty for not writing... So: a constant push and pull between opposing urges.
But I’m in the second half of the grant period now, and I feel time running out. Pressure is always a great motivator for me, and I’m starting to feel the pressure! Time to to get to work. Now when I come back from a short trip, I’m recharged and ready to focus on writing for a few days. Then I get restless, and the cycle starts over...because as time runs out, I also feel pressure to see and do as much as I can before leaving, and on some level I know that what I absorb here will generate new material later, so it’s also part of the writing or pre-writing process. It’s just hard to accept that justification when I’m in the middle of the push-and-pull, and feel like I’m short-changing both sides.
All of that said, I have been writing. I’ve been working on a second poetry manuscript, one that started as prose about twelve years ago, so basically I’ve been "translating" that into poetry, adding new poems, whipping it into shape, etc. I’ve generated new poems for this project, but it’s mainly an intensive rewriting, editing, and revising process, something I’ve never had time to do at home, thanks to myriad distractions that chop up time into frustrating little bits. I’m so grateful for the uninterrupted blocks of time I have here...which are also incredibly isolating and sometimes overwhelming. I sound schizophrenic, no?
JW: You sound very normal to me, but then I think the reactions of "insane" people make more sense in this world than those of "sane" people, for what it's worth. George Bush is a sane person--he went to Harvard and Yale. In any case, normal in that you are experiencing general emotional confliction, disquietude, etc. Of course, much of this is just being American, and the ridiculous pace that one encounters while here—Japan seems to be even worse in this regard. What took you to Japan in the first place, back in 1995? As opposed to Brazil or Detroit?
LS: What? You don’t love & support our president?? I think I’ll have to end the interview here, sorry.
Well, I guess I’ll go on, even despite my raging neo-conservatism and ironclad family values (me & Mark Foley!), which you and your kind actively despise & undermine all around the globe. Gosh, it’s not even funny. It’s just depressing.
Anyway...Why Japan? Why not Detroit? Or France, or any other place? Really it was pure competitiveness that led me here initially. How small of me. I was in my junior year of high school, and wanted to win a big scholarship that only two people in the state could win (50 people per USA), for a summer exchange program to Japan...and I did, knowing nothing, really, about the country. I spent two months in the Land of the Rising Sun during its worst months: July & August. Ugh. I’m from Virginia, so it was pretty much like walking out of one soup straight into another, but still...utterly hot, humid hell. But it was love at first sight. For me, anyway – I don’t know what my host family, or the rest of Japan, thought when they saw the tall, awkward girl in a PURPLE SILK PANTSUIT (??? don’t ask – I’m a beyond-late bloomer) at the airport. When I came back home, I took a lame Japanese class, via satellite, at my high school, and then really buckled down and minored in Japanese Studies in college. This included language & "Japanese society/culture" classes, and the profs were tough as hell – I loved it. I had been a "French" person before that, but when I started studying Japanese, French held no more allure for me. It was too easy!
So, to get back to your real question, which was "what took you to Japan in 1995" - I went there on the Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) Program, planning to stay for one perfect year, even had grad school all lined up as per my tidy "life schedule," and then I ended up staying for three years. I did JET for one year, then taught at a conversation school (read: teaching factory) for about a year, and then had the best job of my life: taught at a private English-immersion pre-school, six kids between the ages of 2 and 6. I would have stayed longer teaching those precious kids, but by then I felt a real urge to return to the US, go to grad school, get my "real life" going, etc.
So that’s the chronicle of my romance with Japan. And here I am back again for a long stay, it’s such a surprise! I just didn’t think there’d be an opportunity like this, and who can afford to pick up and travel to Japan for fun? Well, some people can, but I certainly can’t.
JW: Every time I hear the name Foley, I hear Bob Seger's song, "Turn the Page". In any case, could you explain what connects you so strongly to Japan, Japanese culture, etc? Is there a resonance with Virginia in any way? I can see something spare and quiet (?) in your work that I seem to identify with classic Japanese poetry. Of course, there are leaps between phrases in your poems that make it not seem this way, but there are elements in there. Do you see this yourself?
LS: I really can't explain my strong attachment to & identification with Japan - my connection to the place / people / culture has always been inexplicable, in the same way love for a partner or friend is largely inexplicable. Sometimes I explain it by saying I must have been Japanese in a past life! That's kind of the way I feel - like a very deep, essential part of me is & always has been Japanese. It could have something to do with my going there at a young age - it was the first time I'd been abroad, so it made a lasting impression on me. But then, I could have gone somewhere and hated it, too, even in those ideal conditions. So ultimately I can't explain it. When I'm here, especially out in the countryside, in the middle of rice fields and surrounded by mountains, I feel at home, and very connected to the land itself. Which is not to say I don't have "issues" with life in Japan - I do - but I have "issues" with life in the States, too, so...
And yes, the Virginia connection might be part of it - Japanese people remind me of Southerners, actually. Outsiders think they're so "nice" but the truth is that they are POLITE. Which is not to say some people aren't also genuinely kind, but it's like anywhere; most people are going through the motions, and some people are truly kind. Politeness is a great mask. I use it often :). Also, I think Japanese are often misjudged (by Westerners) - people think quiet &/or reserved = cold, but the Japanese reserve communicates feelings more through looks and gestures than through loud, Western sounds, and sometimes that communication can be more profound for its quietness and rarity. (NOTE: this is a broad generalization! Japanese people can be loud & rude; Westerners can be quiet and reserved, of course). I say "I love you" fairly often to people I love, and I think it's important to do that, to vocalize it - but I also appreciate the intensity of people, maybe a husband and wife, saying it just once a year - what energy and meaning the phrase carries then! Southerners are misjudged too, but I won't go into that because there are so many Southerners to be ashamed of. But...I can't resist...think of Clinton...the ultimate Southerner! Smooth and charming, a sweet word for everyone, talks with that "down home" accent in that "down home" way...and behind all that, which people might mistake for stupidity or easygoing-ness, he's a driven, brilliant lawyer & politician.
And finally, yes, I see the influence of the Japanese aesthetic in my work. I guess I absorbed it - I never really wrote poems "about" Japan, but I think you're right that it shapes & informs my work, especially the poems I've written in the past five years.
JW: I understand you, about feeling at home somewhere, even in a place that is not your original home. I feel very "at home" in California, though I've only been here for a year and a few months. I did not feel that way when I lived in New York. I think it was the pace more than anything--how that very pace emerges in even the conversations one would have with people. I always felt rushed along by New Yorkers, how just the summary of something was wanted, the highlights, etc., spiked with those little verbal cues, like "Yeah, yeah," that unmistakably tell you to move your talking along. It was very controlling and very annoying. (I'll out-generalize you any day, Laura!) In any case, let's talk about your Bank Book series. I love to hear the origins of books like this. How did that start? Were you just sneaking in little writing breaks? Did you hide it from your co-workers at the bank?
LS: That's funny that you feel at home in CA v. NY - I feel more at home in NYC than in CA (Bay Area), even though plenty of people I love are out there (my husband's family + a few friends) and even though it's gorgeous, has great weather, and smart-liberal-literary people abound, etc., etc. I think it's my East Coast love-of-difficulty that endears me to New York (and hardens me against CA sometimes). I *like* a place that has inclement weather, brusque people, and a super-fast pace. It pushes me, and sometimes I need to be pushed. I also like the dirt & grime, and the first thing I do when I visit New York these days is go down to the subway and inhale that beautiful subway smell...(I must add that we've been in Tokyo for three months now and haven't seen a single rat down on the rails - I know they're here, but that's still pretty impressive). But of course I'm romanticizing - I couldn't live in NYC anymore, although it's invigorating to visit, and I always get that "I'm home!" rush - but I much prefer Madison, Wisconsin, and I'd certainly love to live in CA someday. For more confusion and self-contradiction, see below.
As for Bank Book - I'm not sure how it started, exactly, but I've always been able to balance office work with creative work, and that atmosphere of intense boredom fosters the urge to create (for me) more than any other atmosphere. But it also starts to kill me after a while, and kill all urge to create, so I guess the key is to have an office job for about a year, and then get out! I have this "brilliant" theory about office work - that really people should be at the office for about three days a week, six hours a day. The rest of the time is wasted. Maybe not for the middle management people who are swamped, but certainly for those of us at the bottom of the heap, and for those at the top, too. Most people waste it on web-surfing, chatting with colleagues (I can vouch for that at the bank - big time), planning birthday surprise parties, playing tricks, etc., etc. Ricky Gervais's vision in "The Office" is incredibly accurate, as those of us who have worked in offices know. Anyway - for me, that meant that I avoided a lot of other means of time-wasting and used the excess time to write or do writing-related stuff. Thus, the Bank Book! And yes, I hid it from my colleagues, but some of them guessed I was doing something other than bank work, since I was always so busy and they knew I couldn't possibly be doing work all the time...so a few people joined me in the subterfuge.
And I guess if I'd had that proposed work schedule (three days a week, six hours a day), I wouldn't have written so much - because I would have had more free time, and "free time" = at home & happy, not "at office & miserable & compelled to write." Which is something I struggle with now, as previously noted. What's the solution???
JW: I don’t know. I have sort of moved out of my lifelong commitment to poverty, to a decent paying job, and it certainly has its disadvantages, artistically. Or it’s just different now, and I haven’t figured out how to adapt to this new phase of a little bit of disposable income. Either way, I understand the frustration and the back and forth and wanting to just go somewhere to write and eat rustic bread. But that’s one romantic version of how to be a writer, and how to be. Tangentially, this brings up one of my interests—which is the poses of the self, or how we arrange ourselves to be ourselves. In writing, this takes on another hue, as what comes out of one is often not understood by the writer him- or her- self. How do you relate to your writing? Does it make sense to you? Do you judge it? Does it feel like information that is being leaked out to you from some place? Etc.
LS: Yes, I think if we could all just let go of the romantic versions of our lives / the way our lives *should be,* we'd be a hell of a lot happier. And probably more productive - less time wasted imagining we'd be better off elsewhere, doing something else, writing more and better if we lived a different life, and more time actually WRITING.
Easier said than done.
Yes, I understand my writing, and no, I don't understand it at all. It "leaks out" from somewhere else (sounds gross, James!), but I *recognize* it, if that makes sense, after the fact. I recognize it but it's usually not something I have access to in the conscious, day-to-day world -- it's not something I would or could bring out into everyday conversation. It definitely comes to me from up above, down below, or off to the side somewhere. And then when it's done, I can go back and "understand" it and say, "oh, this is about my conflicted view of world religions!" And someone else will read it and say, "This is about a penis!"
And yes, I judge it. In the sense that I judge the construction, and the movement -- all the technical aspects that make the "meaning" -- whatever the hell that is, let's say emotion / thought / Thing instead -- come across more fluidly.
And I certainly identify with it, and believe that it is WHO I AM. There have been times when I've been able to separate myself from it and even take criticism lightly, like right around the time my book came out, and I was so high, I didn't care what anybody said about it! I'd just laugh and say, "F.U.! That's my BOOK!" But now I'm back to being the snail without its shell, sensitive to even the lightest breeze, and easily damaged.
JW: Well, I will take it easy, then, with your snail shell misplaced and all. (That is much more disgusting than a leaky brain, in my opinion. Did you remove shells from snails as a hobby? They were probably baby snails, too, weren't they?) Okay. I am interested in non-poetic/non-literary influences in your work. What, who, are they?
LS: Oh, so you *want* me to write an essay here?? (On my non-poetic/non-literary influences, not on shell-less snails, which I agree are kind of gross, but not as gross as the suggestion that I, Delicate Flower & Animal Lover, would actually ever even think of removing shells from baby snails!) (A memory comes back, from elementary school: of carrying around some frog intestines in a little plastic peep box and showing it to other kids to gross them out. We had to dissect a frog in my S.P.A.C.E program, which technically has nothing to do with frog torture, or space travel, but there you have it.)
Non-poetic & non-literary are mixed up together in the following list*:
*These are fairly recent, since a comprehensive list would be exhausting. This may exhaust you anyway - sorry.
1. SERIAL KILLERS: I've been "researching" serial killers online, which I know makes me sound like a potential serial killer, since that's what they tend to do in preparation for committing their own crimes, but...I'm NOT a serial killer, I swear. I've just always had a keen (morbid) interest in People Who Kill, particularly Women Who Kill (this isn't making me sound any better, is it?), maybe because women who kill do so in direct contradiction to their social indoctrination as caretakers, givers, etc., and generally when they kill, they do so *within* their care-taking roles - for instance, by slowly poisoning a child, and receiving compliments from others about what great mothering skills they have when in reality they're committing murder!! Creepy! I also always wonder: What makes someone cross the line to murder another human being? We've all got it in us, the urge to kill/destroy, as is terribly evident in the neighbor-killing-neighbor genocides all over the world, but what makes someone cross the line - especially over and over and over again, with no particular provocation?
I find Munchausen by Proxy especially fascinating (see reference to poisoners above: getting attention via hurting a loved one). Recently I read an excellent true crime book called THE DEATH OF INNOCENTS (bad pun in title, great book), about a woman who used Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) as an excuse to a) gain attention from doctors, and b) cover up five cases of infanticide (she killed her own kids, one after the other through the years...). Anyway, since I read it recently, and since I have time on my hands, I decided to look up a bunch of (mainly female) killers and read their confessions, trial testimonies, letters, public statements, etc., and I'm kind of working on a series of "serial killer" poems but DON'T TELL ANYONE :) because that sounds lame. I will do my best to make it not lame.
2. ODD & INFLUENTIAL PEOPLE: Just read _No Man Knows My History_, by Fawn Brodie: the definitive biography of Joseph Smith, founder of Mormonism. He's always been one of my favorite "odd & influential people." The book was written by a Mormon who was excommunicated as soon as the book came out, for her objective-but-not-pretty portrayal of the supposed prophet. Mormonism fascinates me - I think especially because it's one of the few major world religions (about 12 million believers worldwide) that is well-documented due to its relatively recent origins. And the documents aren't exactly convincing - they're incriminating, in some instances - but it doesn't matter - people still believe. Why? I wonder. Because they need to, of course. I guess I like investigating the terrifying neediness of humans, not because I'm looking down on them, but because I am terribly needy too, and am interested in the ways other people "fill the void."
3. RELIGION: Just read _The Varieties of Religious Experience_, by William James. Whew. It's funny, he's so readable and "easy" in a way, but in attaining that readability he also courts tedium. As I stated above, I like to stand outside religions and look in.
4. MYSTERY NOVELS: Any number of mystery novels, especially (lately) those by the Swedish phenomenon, Henning Mankell. How are these influences? I live in their atmosphere most of the time, so when I'm writing poetry, I'm writing with these works surrounding & seeping into me (another potentially gross "leakage" reference - you started it!). Mankell's books have the most remarkable atmosphere I've ever encountered - I never want to leave his dark, depressing southern Sweden! Also, and I've said this elsewhere, but I think mystery novels, in tackling the smaller questions, like ‘who murdered who and why did they do it?,’ are simultaneously grappling with the Big Questions like, ‘what is death and why do we have to die?’ So reading a mystery novel, for me, is a way of endlessly facing those large, unanswerable questions, working them out and working them out and never finding a solution.
I just plagiarized myself. Which brings me to...
5. FORGERY/FRAUDS/HOAXES: I just read a really disappointing book on this topic, _The Poet & The Murderer_ - Simon Worrall takes a potentially great story in which a crazy forger-murderer, Mormonism, and Emily Dickinson converge, and writes a tabloid piece of crap. Really depressing to see such lazy scholarship and narrative irresponsibility. Anyway...I've been trying to develop a class on literary hoaxes /frauds - it could be a literature / workshop class, and the works would include:
Doubled Flowering, by Araki Yasusada
Also with My Throat I Shall Swallow 10,000 Swords, by Araki Yasusada
Thomas Chatterton
Ern Malley Poetry hoax (James McAuley and Harold Stewart)
The Wilkomirski Affair, by Stefan Maechler (includes _Fragments_ by
Wilkomirski)
The Education of Little Tree, by Asa Carter (had no idea this was a racist
fake until recently)
I, Faker, by Paul Maliszewski
Anne Carson - her essays by fake Greek guys
_Social Text_ hoax by Alan Sokal
Take _The Wilkomirski Affair_ for instance - is _Fragments_ any less a work of literature because it turned out to be a fake holocaust memoir? And is it any less of an ethical problem when Wilkomirski himself really believed (if you believe him) that he *was* a Holocaust survivor, even though he wasn't? And does it honor the memory of Holocaust victims even though it was a hoax? Some people would answer, vehemently, NO, I know, but I think the question remains valid. And what about when people fool others on purpose, as a form of rebellion or social commentary, like Ern Malley's creators, and the work survives the hoax? Is it any less of a literary feat if it was created as an intentional hoax? Are we fools for reading and appreciating Ern Malley, or are his creators the ultimate fools, driven by anti-Modernist bitterness? All kinds of scintillating questions surround this topic for me.
6. THE VISUAL: I'll limit this to film & visual art:
Movies (I've made this list before, and am plagiarizing myself again, sorry - I did make some changes/updates):
Eureka, Spirited Away, Donnie Darko, David Lynch’s films, Safe, Russian Ark, Ratcatcher, George Washington, Michael Winterbottom's films, Rear Window, Vertigo, Hitchcock in general, Room with a View, La Double Vie de Veronique
(otherwise Kieszlowski is just too heavy-handed for my taste), The Piano, Cache.
In general, I love directors who know when to shut up - or rather, when to have their characters shut up and let landscape, eyes, facial expressions, space in rooms, etc., speak for themselves. And I certainly favor those with a tendency to "darkness" - the ones who explore darker pockets of human existence / human nature. But most of the above also have a sense of humor, or a sense of the absurd, at least. Or, as in the case of Miyazaki's "Spirited Away," a sense of the fantastical that both heightens the emotion and softens the blow of the human tragedies he explores.
Art/photography: Joseph Cornell, Louise Bourgeois, Rachel Whiteread, Cindy Sherman, Laurie Simmons, Diane Arbus, Isamu Noguchi - those just came to me, but there are many more. I love miniature things, artists who create weird / scary, miniature worlds, which I sometimes try to do in my poems.
7. MUSIC: Right now, I mean RIGHT NOW, I'm being bombarded by Eric Clapton at our favorite neighborhood café. It's playing every time we come in, and I want to smash it. Clapton isn't on my list. Radiohead IS - at the top. In general, indie rock & pop: Arcade Fire, Rilo Kiley, PJ Harvey, Wolf Parade, Prefuse 73, Neko Case, Gillian Welch, Sufjan Stevens, Bjork, Regina Spektor, Sigur Ros, Andrew Bird, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, MIA, The New Pornographers, Decembrists, The Long Winters, Bloc Party...I just find it overwhelming how many wonderful indie groups & artists there are out there now - but no one compares to Radiohead for me. I'm a slavering fanatic when it comes to them, and I'm certain their music has informed my poetry - just can't pinpoint how, exactly.
8. ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT: Okay, this isn't really an "influence," at least not on my poetry, but it's the most amazing TV show ever created (with the exception of the British "The Office"). The writing!! The characters! The balls that show has!! And of course Fox has dumped it, but you can still get it on DVD. This is keeping me & my husband happy during our exile-from-American-pop-culture in Japan.
9. FICTION: I can't even get into fiction, I'm taking up your entire blog with this. But I'm constantly reading fiction, and it constantly influences me. One of the novels that has lingered longest with me (that I've read in the past six months) is _Never Let Me Go_ by Kazuo Ishiguro.
10. PEOPLE: The important people in my life influence me constantly. So do acquaintances and strangers on the street - in a different way. I steal things they say and do and put them in my poems.
Enough influence?
JW: Yep.
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Laura Sims' Practice, Restraint (Fence Books) can be purchased here. She teaches English and Creative Writing in Madison, Wisconsin.
James Wagner: I seem to be interested in "place" right now, for which I don't really have any explanation. I tend to move through strong connections to certain ideas for awhile and then move on to others. So I am more mindful of this place and time and so on.... You are currently living in Japan, and will be for a few more months. Do you feel displaced right now as a writer? Are you able to write? I never seem to be able to write in a new place for quite some time. And, if you are writing, what are you writing?
Laura Sims: In the past few months of living in Tokyo, I’ve had to force myself, intermittently, to be "nowhere" in order to write – I’ve had to block out my experience of being in this new/old place (I lived in Japan from 1995-1998, so this is not entirely new terrain, although Tokyo is), because otherwise it would be too distracting. But here’s the rub – I’m in a foreign country, for the TWIN purposes of A) writing and B) experiencing Place, but immersing myself in Place distracts me from writing, and immersing myself in writing obscures Place. How to balance both? Place generally wins —it’s easy enough to simulate that sense of "nowhereness" in city cafes with my iBook in front of me for a few days in a row, but then I get antsy. I want to be seeing and doing right now, not sitting and writing (I decide)! So we go on a short trip, I get intoxicated with Place, and just want to keep traveling. But then I feel guilty for not writing... So: a constant push and pull between opposing urges.
But I’m in the second half of the grant period now, and I feel time running out. Pressure is always a great motivator for me, and I’m starting to feel the pressure! Time to to get to work. Now when I come back from a short trip, I’m recharged and ready to focus on writing for a few days. Then I get restless, and the cycle starts over...because as time runs out, I also feel pressure to see and do as much as I can before leaving, and on some level I know that what I absorb here will generate new material later, so it’s also part of the writing or pre-writing process. It’s just hard to accept that justification when I’m in the middle of the push-and-pull, and feel like I’m short-changing both sides.
All of that said, I have been writing. I’ve been working on a second poetry manuscript, one that started as prose about twelve years ago, so basically I’ve been "translating" that into poetry, adding new poems, whipping it into shape, etc. I’ve generated new poems for this project, but it’s mainly an intensive rewriting, editing, and revising process, something I’ve never had time to do at home, thanks to myriad distractions that chop up time into frustrating little bits. I’m so grateful for the uninterrupted blocks of time I have here...which are also incredibly isolating and sometimes overwhelming. I sound schizophrenic, no?
JW: You sound very normal to me, but then I think the reactions of "insane" people make more sense in this world than those of "sane" people, for what it's worth. George Bush is a sane person--he went to Harvard and Yale. In any case, normal in that you are experiencing general emotional confliction, disquietude, etc. Of course, much of this is just being American, and the ridiculous pace that one encounters while here—Japan seems to be even worse in this regard. What took you to Japan in the first place, back in 1995? As opposed to Brazil or Detroit?
LS: What? You don’t love & support our president?? I think I’ll have to end the interview here, sorry.
Well, I guess I’ll go on, even despite my raging neo-conservatism and ironclad family values (me & Mark Foley!), which you and your kind actively despise & undermine all around the globe. Gosh, it’s not even funny. It’s just depressing.
Anyway...Why Japan? Why not Detroit? Or France, or any other place? Really it was pure competitiveness that led me here initially. How small of me. I was in my junior year of high school, and wanted to win a big scholarship that only two people in the state could win (50 people per USA), for a summer exchange program to Japan...and I did, knowing nothing, really, about the country. I spent two months in the Land of the Rising Sun during its worst months: July & August. Ugh. I’m from Virginia, so it was pretty much like walking out of one soup straight into another, but still...utterly hot, humid hell. But it was love at first sight. For me, anyway – I don’t know what my host family, or the rest of Japan, thought when they saw the tall, awkward girl in a PURPLE SILK PANTSUIT (??? don’t ask – I’m a beyond-late bloomer) at the airport. When I came back home, I took a lame Japanese class, via satellite, at my high school, and then really buckled down and minored in Japanese Studies in college. This included language & "Japanese society/culture" classes, and the profs were tough as hell – I loved it. I had been a "French" person before that, but when I started studying Japanese, French held no more allure for me. It was too easy!
So, to get back to your real question, which was "what took you to Japan in 1995" - I went there on the Japan Exchange and Teaching (JET) Program, planning to stay for one perfect year, even had grad school all lined up as per my tidy "life schedule," and then I ended up staying for three years. I did JET for one year, then taught at a conversation school (read: teaching factory) for about a year, and then had the best job of my life: taught at a private English-immersion pre-school, six kids between the ages of 2 and 6. I would have stayed longer teaching those precious kids, but by then I felt a real urge to return to the US, go to grad school, get my "real life" going, etc.
So that’s the chronicle of my romance with Japan. And here I am back again for a long stay, it’s such a surprise! I just didn’t think there’d be an opportunity like this, and who can afford to pick up and travel to Japan for fun? Well, some people can, but I certainly can’t.
JW: Every time I hear the name Foley, I hear Bob Seger's song, "Turn the Page". In any case, could you explain what connects you so strongly to Japan, Japanese culture, etc? Is there a resonance with Virginia in any way? I can see something spare and quiet (?) in your work that I seem to identify with classic Japanese poetry. Of course, there are leaps between phrases in your poems that make it not seem this way, but there are elements in there. Do you see this yourself?
LS: I really can't explain my strong attachment to & identification with Japan - my connection to the place / people / culture has always been inexplicable, in the same way love for a partner or friend is largely inexplicable. Sometimes I explain it by saying I must have been Japanese in a past life! That's kind of the way I feel - like a very deep, essential part of me is & always has been Japanese. It could have something to do with my going there at a young age - it was the first time I'd been abroad, so it made a lasting impression on me. But then, I could have gone somewhere and hated it, too, even in those ideal conditions. So ultimately I can't explain it. When I'm here, especially out in the countryside, in the middle of rice fields and surrounded by mountains, I feel at home, and very connected to the land itself. Which is not to say I don't have "issues" with life in Japan - I do - but I have "issues" with life in the States, too, so...
And yes, the Virginia connection might be part of it - Japanese people remind me of Southerners, actually. Outsiders think they're so "nice" but the truth is that they are POLITE. Which is not to say some people aren't also genuinely kind, but it's like anywhere; most people are going through the motions, and some people are truly kind. Politeness is a great mask. I use it often :). Also, I think Japanese are often misjudged (by Westerners) - people think quiet &/or reserved = cold, but the Japanese reserve communicates feelings more through looks and gestures than through loud, Western sounds, and sometimes that communication can be more profound for its quietness and rarity. (NOTE: this is a broad generalization! Japanese people can be loud & rude; Westerners can be quiet and reserved, of course). I say "I love you" fairly often to people I love, and I think it's important to do that, to vocalize it - but I also appreciate the intensity of people, maybe a husband and wife, saying it just once a year - what energy and meaning the phrase carries then! Southerners are misjudged too, but I won't go into that because there are so many Southerners to be ashamed of. But...I can't resist...think of Clinton...the ultimate Southerner! Smooth and charming, a sweet word for everyone, talks with that "down home" accent in that "down home" way...and behind all that, which people might mistake for stupidity or easygoing-ness, he's a driven, brilliant lawyer & politician.
And finally, yes, I see the influence of the Japanese aesthetic in my work. I guess I absorbed it - I never really wrote poems "about" Japan, but I think you're right that it shapes & informs my work, especially the poems I've written in the past five years.
JW: I understand you, about feeling at home somewhere, even in a place that is not your original home. I feel very "at home" in California, though I've only been here for a year and a few months. I did not feel that way when I lived in New York. I think it was the pace more than anything--how that very pace emerges in even the conversations one would have with people. I always felt rushed along by New Yorkers, how just the summary of something was wanted, the highlights, etc., spiked with those little verbal cues, like "Yeah, yeah," that unmistakably tell you to move your talking along. It was very controlling and very annoying. (I'll out-generalize you any day, Laura!) In any case, let's talk about your Bank Book series. I love to hear the origins of books like this. How did that start? Were you just sneaking in little writing breaks? Did you hide it from your co-workers at the bank?
LS: That's funny that you feel at home in CA v. NY - I feel more at home in NYC than in CA (Bay Area), even though plenty of people I love are out there (my husband's family + a few friends) and even though it's gorgeous, has great weather, and smart-liberal-literary people abound, etc., etc. I think it's my East Coast love-of-difficulty that endears me to New York (and hardens me against CA sometimes). I *like* a place that has inclement weather, brusque people, and a super-fast pace. It pushes me, and sometimes I need to be pushed. I also like the dirt & grime, and the first thing I do when I visit New York these days is go down to the subway and inhale that beautiful subway smell...(I must add that we've been in Tokyo for three months now and haven't seen a single rat down on the rails - I know they're here, but that's still pretty impressive). But of course I'm romanticizing - I couldn't live in NYC anymore, although it's invigorating to visit, and I always get that "I'm home!" rush - but I much prefer Madison, Wisconsin, and I'd certainly love to live in CA someday. For more confusion and self-contradiction, see below.
As for Bank Book - I'm not sure how it started, exactly, but I've always been able to balance office work with creative work, and that atmosphere of intense boredom fosters the urge to create (for me) more than any other atmosphere. But it also starts to kill me after a while, and kill all urge to create, so I guess the key is to have an office job for about a year, and then get out! I have this "brilliant" theory about office work - that really people should be at the office for about three days a week, six hours a day. The rest of the time is wasted. Maybe not for the middle management people who are swamped, but certainly for those of us at the bottom of the heap, and for those at the top, too. Most people waste it on web-surfing, chatting with colleagues (I can vouch for that at the bank - big time), planning birthday surprise parties, playing tricks, etc., etc. Ricky Gervais's vision in "The Office" is incredibly accurate, as those of us who have worked in offices know. Anyway - for me, that meant that I avoided a lot of other means of time-wasting and used the excess time to write or do writing-related stuff. Thus, the Bank Book! And yes, I hid it from my colleagues, but some of them guessed I was doing something other than bank work, since I was always so busy and they knew I couldn't possibly be doing work all the time...so a few people joined me in the subterfuge.
And I guess if I'd had that proposed work schedule (three days a week, six hours a day), I wouldn't have written so much - because I would have had more free time, and "free time" = at home & happy, not "at office & miserable & compelled to write." Which is something I struggle with now, as previously noted. What's the solution???
JW: I don’t know. I have sort of moved out of my lifelong commitment to poverty, to a decent paying job, and it certainly has its disadvantages, artistically. Or it’s just different now, and I haven’t figured out how to adapt to this new phase of a little bit of disposable income. Either way, I understand the frustration and the back and forth and wanting to just go somewhere to write and eat rustic bread. But that’s one romantic version of how to be a writer, and how to be. Tangentially, this brings up one of my interests—which is the poses of the self, or how we arrange ourselves to be ourselves. In writing, this takes on another hue, as what comes out of one is often not understood by the writer him- or her- self. How do you relate to your writing? Does it make sense to you? Do you judge it? Does it feel like information that is being leaked out to you from some place? Etc.
LS: Yes, I think if we could all just let go of the romantic versions of our lives / the way our lives *should be,* we'd be a hell of a lot happier. And probably more productive - less time wasted imagining we'd be better off elsewhere, doing something else, writing more and better if we lived a different life, and more time actually WRITING.
Easier said than done.
Yes, I understand my writing, and no, I don't understand it at all. It "leaks out" from somewhere else (sounds gross, James!), but I *recognize* it, if that makes sense, after the fact. I recognize it but it's usually not something I have access to in the conscious, day-to-day world -- it's not something I would or could bring out into everyday conversation. It definitely comes to me from up above, down below, or off to the side somewhere. And then when it's done, I can go back and "understand" it and say, "oh, this is about my conflicted view of world religions!" And someone else will read it and say, "This is about a penis!"
And yes, I judge it. In the sense that I judge the construction, and the movement -- all the technical aspects that make the "meaning" -- whatever the hell that is, let's say emotion / thought / Thing instead -- come across more fluidly.
And I certainly identify with it, and believe that it is WHO I AM. There have been times when I've been able to separate myself from it and even take criticism lightly, like right around the time my book came out, and I was so high, I didn't care what anybody said about it! I'd just laugh and say, "F.U.! That's my BOOK!" But now I'm back to being the snail without its shell, sensitive to even the lightest breeze, and easily damaged.
JW: Well, I will take it easy, then, with your snail shell misplaced and all. (That is much more disgusting than a leaky brain, in my opinion. Did you remove shells from snails as a hobby? They were probably baby snails, too, weren't they?) Okay. I am interested in non-poetic/non-literary influences in your work. What, who, are they?
LS: Oh, so you *want* me to write an essay here?? (On my non-poetic/non-literary influences, not on shell-less snails, which I agree are kind of gross, but not as gross as the suggestion that I, Delicate Flower & Animal Lover, would actually ever even think of removing shells from baby snails!) (A memory comes back, from elementary school: of carrying around some frog intestines in a little plastic peep box and showing it to other kids to gross them out. We had to dissect a frog in my S.P.A.C.E program, which technically has nothing to do with frog torture, or space travel, but there you have it.)
Non-poetic & non-literary are mixed up together in the following list*:
*These are fairly recent, since a comprehensive list would be exhausting. This may exhaust you anyway - sorry.
1. SERIAL KILLERS: I've been "researching" serial killers online, which I know makes me sound like a potential serial killer, since that's what they tend to do in preparation for committing their own crimes, but...I'm NOT a serial killer, I swear. I've just always had a keen (morbid) interest in People Who Kill, particularly Women Who Kill (this isn't making me sound any better, is it?), maybe because women who kill do so in direct contradiction to their social indoctrination as caretakers, givers, etc., and generally when they kill, they do so *within* their care-taking roles - for instance, by slowly poisoning a child, and receiving compliments from others about what great mothering skills they have when in reality they're committing murder!! Creepy! I also always wonder: What makes someone cross the line to murder another human being? We've all got it in us, the urge to kill/destroy, as is terribly evident in the neighbor-killing-neighbor genocides all over the world, but what makes someone cross the line - especially over and over and over again, with no particular provocation?
I find Munchausen by Proxy especially fascinating (see reference to poisoners above: getting attention via hurting a loved one). Recently I read an excellent true crime book called THE DEATH OF INNOCENTS (bad pun in title, great book), about a woman who used Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) as an excuse to a) gain attention from doctors, and b) cover up five cases of infanticide (she killed her own kids, one after the other through the years...). Anyway, since I read it recently, and since I have time on my hands, I decided to look up a bunch of (mainly female) killers and read their confessions, trial testimonies, letters, public statements, etc., and I'm kind of working on a series of "serial killer" poems but DON'T TELL ANYONE :) because that sounds lame. I will do my best to make it not lame.
2. ODD & INFLUENTIAL PEOPLE: Just read _No Man Knows My History_, by Fawn Brodie: the definitive biography of Joseph Smith, founder of Mormonism. He's always been one of my favorite "odd & influential people." The book was written by a Mormon who was excommunicated as soon as the book came out, for her objective-but-not-pretty portrayal of the supposed prophet. Mormonism fascinates me - I think especially because it's one of the few major world religions (about 12 million believers worldwide) that is well-documented due to its relatively recent origins. And the documents aren't exactly convincing - they're incriminating, in some instances - but it doesn't matter - people still believe. Why? I wonder. Because they need to, of course. I guess I like investigating the terrifying neediness of humans, not because I'm looking down on them, but because I am terribly needy too, and am interested in the ways other people "fill the void."
3. RELIGION: Just read _The Varieties of Religious Experience_, by William James. Whew. It's funny, he's so readable and "easy" in a way, but in attaining that readability he also courts tedium. As I stated above, I like to stand outside religions and look in.
4. MYSTERY NOVELS: Any number of mystery novels, especially (lately) those by the Swedish phenomenon, Henning Mankell. How are these influences? I live in their atmosphere most of the time, so when I'm writing poetry, I'm writing with these works surrounding & seeping into me (another potentially gross "leakage" reference - you started it!). Mankell's books have the most remarkable atmosphere I've ever encountered - I never want to leave his dark, depressing southern Sweden! Also, and I've said this elsewhere, but I think mystery novels, in tackling the smaller questions, like ‘who murdered who and why did they do it?,’ are simultaneously grappling with the Big Questions like, ‘what is death and why do we have to die?’ So reading a mystery novel, for me, is a way of endlessly facing those large, unanswerable questions, working them out and working them out and never finding a solution.
I just plagiarized myself. Which brings me to...
5. FORGERY/FRAUDS/HOAXES: I just read a really disappointing book on this topic, _The Poet & The Murderer_ - Simon Worrall takes a potentially great story in which a crazy forger-murderer, Mormonism, and Emily Dickinson converge, and writes a tabloid piece of crap. Really depressing to see such lazy scholarship and narrative irresponsibility. Anyway...I've been trying to develop a class on literary hoaxes /frauds - it could be a literature / workshop class, and the works would include:
Doubled Flowering, by Araki Yasusada
Also with My Throat I Shall Swallow 10,000 Swords, by Araki Yasusada
Thomas Chatterton
Ern Malley Poetry hoax (James McAuley and Harold Stewart)
The Wilkomirski Affair, by Stefan Maechler (includes _Fragments_ by
Wilkomirski)
The Education of Little Tree, by Asa Carter (had no idea this was a racist
fake until recently)
I, Faker, by Paul Maliszewski
Anne Carson - her essays by fake Greek guys
_Social Text_ hoax by Alan Sokal
Take _The Wilkomirski Affair_ for instance - is _Fragments_ any less a work of literature because it turned out to be a fake holocaust memoir? And is it any less of an ethical problem when Wilkomirski himself really believed (if you believe him) that he *was* a Holocaust survivor, even though he wasn't? And does it honor the memory of Holocaust victims even though it was a hoax? Some people would answer, vehemently, NO, I know, but I think the question remains valid. And what about when people fool others on purpose, as a form of rebellion or social commentary, like Ern Malley's creators, and the work survives the hoax? Is it any less of a literary feat if it was created as an intentional hoax? Are we fools for reading and appreciating Ern Malley, or are his creators the ultimate fools, driven by anti-Modernist bitterness? All kinds of scintillating questions surround this topic for me.
6. THE VISUAL: I'll limit this to film & visual art:
Movies (I've made this list before, and am plagiarizing myself again, sorry - I did make some changes/updates):
Eureka, Spirited Away, Donnie Darko, David Lynch’s films, Safe, Russian Ark, Ratcatcher, George Washington, Michael Winterbottom's films, Rear Window, Vertigo, Hitchcock in general, Room with a View, La Double Vie de Veronique
(otherwise Kieszlowski is just too heavy-handed for my taste), The Piano, Cache.
In general, I love directors who know when to shut up - or rather, when to have their characters shut up and let landscape, eyes, facial expressions, space in rooms, etc., speak for themselves. And I certainly favor those with a tendency to "darkness" - the ones who explore darker pockets of human existence / human nature. But most of the above also have a sense of humor, or a sense of the absurd, at least. Or, as in the case of Miyazaki's "Spirited Away," a sense of the fantastical that both heightens the emotion and softens the blow of the human tragedies he explores.
Art/photography: Joseph Cornell, Louise Bourgeois, Rachel Whiteread, Cindy Sherman, Laurie Simmons, Diane Arbus, Isamu Noguchi - those just came to me, but there are many more. I love miniature things, artists who create weird / scary, miniature worlds, which I sometimes try to do in my poems.
7. MUSIC: Right now, I mean RIGHT NOW, I'm being bombarded by Eric Clapton at our favorite neighborhood café. It's playing every time we come in, and I want to smash it. Clapton isn't on my list. Radiohead IS - at the top. In general, indie rock & pop: Arcade Fire, Rilo Kiley, PJ Harvey, Wolf Parade, Prefuse 73, Neko Case, Gillian Welch, Sufjan Stevens, Bjork, Regina Spektor, Sigur Ros, Andrew Bird, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, MIA, The New Pornographers, Decembrists, The Long Winters, Bloc Party...I just find it overwhelming how many wonderful indie groups & artists there are out there now - but no one compares to Radiohead for me. I'm a slavering fanatic when it comes to them, and I'm certain their music has informed my poetry - just can't pinpoint how, exactly.
8. ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT: Okay, this isn't really an "influence," at least not on my poetry, but it's the most amazing TV show ever created (with the exception of the British "The Office"). The writing!! The characters! The balls that show has!! And of course Fox has dumped it, but you can still get it on DVD. This is keeping me & my husband happy during our exile-from-American-pop-culture in Japan.
9. FICTION: I can't even get into fiction, I'm taking up your entire blog with this. But I'm constantly reading fiction, and it constantly influences me. One of the novels that has lingered longest with me (that I've read in the past six months) is _Never Let Me Go_ by Kazuo Ishiguro.
10. PEOPLE: The important people in my life influence me constantly. So do acquaintances and strangers on the street - in a different way. I steal things they say and do and put them in my poems.
Enough influence?
JW: Yep.
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Laura Sims' Practice, Restraint (Fence Books) can be purchased here. She teaches English and Creative Writing in Madison, Wisconsin.
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