September 24, 2008
Which living writer
would you most like to sit down to tea and a bagel (or a cigar and Wild Turkey) with? Why? Several of my favorites have died in the past decade or so: Penelope Fitzgerald, WG Sebald, Guy Davenport, Paul Metcalf, Donald Justice. I had the chance to spend several hours last summer with Alan Garner and his wife Griselda, so I shouldn’t pick him, I suppose. I could go for Gordon Lish, but then he and I have had a running correspondence for 20 years, so maybe I shouldn’t pick him either. Maybe Louis Simpson, who at 84 or 85, might not be with us much longer. I’ve read so much of Simpson that we might not have as much to talk about, but he’s so opinionated and smart that it couldn’t help but be fun. Or should I go the other direction, a writer younger than I am? Maybe Mexico’s Ignacio Padilla. I should stop asking questions.
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18 Responses to “Which living writer”
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if Davenport or Metcalf were alive I would say them. since they’re not, I’ll say you or Daryl.
Neal Stephenson. If dead, then probably Issac Asimov or Gautama Buddha?
Thomas Pynchon or Salman Rushdie (alive). Vladimir Nabokov (dead).
Alice Munro! Alice Munro!
My take on your question, Cooper, comes perhaps from a vantage point off to the side of many ‘flockers and friends. I’m not a writer. In fact, as both an archivist and a shootist, I think of myself as the looking-glass image of the character W W Beauchamp in Unforgiven, who declared, “I don’t have a gun. I’ve never had a gun. I write. I’m a writer.” Turn that around, and you’ve got me.
So I think — with whom would I like to take tea (or Wild Turkey)?
Off the top of my head, I’d say, “Elmore Leonard,” because I think he’d be a hell of a lot of fun, and I think it is cool that he’ll be eight-three in a couple of weeks. His latest books, The Hot Kid (2005) and Up in Honey’s Room (2007) — I love ‘em.
My first reaction is William T. Vollmann, but I have sat down with him for beers, sodas, breakfasts, and whatnot already…
So ‘ll say Barry Hannah.
or Paul Auster.
Or Salman Rushie.
Russell Edson
Leslie Marmon Silko
Annie Proulx
Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Denis Johnson
Jamaica Kincaid
Z.Z. Packer
Rick Bass
Okay I’ll stop. In the past I would have picked Cormac; I will always love his work but somehow I don’t have as much curiosity about him as I once did. These people I have mentioned here all do wonderful work and also seem like the kind of people it would be great fun to talk to about anything–and if writing didn’t even come up that would be fine too.
Nobody throw anything at me, but I would actually like to sit down and talk to Joyce Carol Oates. I really do like a lot of her short stories even though I haven’t read all 2700 of them.
Joe Queenan alive. James Lees Milne dead. check um out
Cocktails on a patio, or under the stars around a campfire with cocktails, names come to mind, some alive, some dead, some writers, some self-disclaimed as not, not to talk about writing necessarily but just to be in their presence. I’d like to think I’d try to keep my mouth shut and just listen. I imagine the conversation would range wide, deep and far. I’m sure some folks would laugh, some would cry. Some, perhaps like me, might try to interject a little levity, if the opportunity presented itself. In no particular order:
Deron Bauman
Amy Mabli
Daryl Scroggins
Cindy Scroggins
Sheila Ryan
Jon Martin
Danny Jensen
Gordon Lish
Cooper Estaban/Renner
Brandon Hobson
Eugene Marten
Tracy Henshaw
Mark Twain
David Sedaris
Franz Liszt
Amanda Mae Meyncke
Andrew Simone
See, I’ve already said too much and not nearly enough (this is me in a nutshell). Still any combination of the particulars of this group, and the list would certainly grow, were I to think harder…Wait. With the exception of a few names, I already do this. I mean, I’ve got my cocktail, I’m on the patio, the only thing lacking? The immediacy of sitting with any on this list face-to-face.
I’m sure I’d laugh. I’d cry. I’d interject some levity if/when it seemed appropriate (or more likely when it isn’t).
Rick, clusterflockstock approaches.
Haruki Murakami. Why? I think his books are amazing, is that not reason enough.
Clusterflockstock, yes!
Lists are difficult, especially when done “on-the-fly.” I left many off. If I try to list more I’ll merely deepen the hole I started digging with the first name. If any feel slighted by my omission, please add your name to the list.
I heart all y’all.
Rick, do you make a good martini? Too strong and I’ll fall over in my chair.
Brandon, the house pour is Smirnoff-on-the-rocks, though if you’d like something smoother, we could provide. As for the strength, two or three years ago, I was sipping on them and talky-talky-talkin’ at a company function. Felt fine until I stood up, went to put my hand on the table at my side to steady myself, missed it and immediately found myself taking a bite out of the pea-gravel patio at my feet.
Danny took my elbow, poured me into the car and took me home.
I was quite the topic, at the office, the Monday after. I asked what time it was when we left, “Midnight?” The consensus was it had actually been 8:00 pm.
Ah, well. I don’t “hold my smoke” as well as I used to.
Oh, Rick, you’re a sweetheart. I fall down like that even when I’m not drunk.
John Barth. BUT I would act like a giddy school girl around him and I doubt that he would get much out of it besides a free glass of Wild Turkey.
Well I don’t do much reading these days. Something happened to my concentration about 15 years ago that prevents me from reading the simplest of things. So I hope it is ok to mention someone from back then who unfortunately is dead?
I’d like to sit down and share a drink or two perhaps with Elaine De Kooning. Her book Spirit of Abstract Expressionism: Selected Writings had quite a profound affect on me at the time for various reasons. I had long been a lover of the Abstract Expressionists and so came to her through her husband I guess.