Last night, legendary 81-year-old novelist Norman Mailer spoke in Madison County, Illinois, at an event hosted by the Southern Illinois University Edwardsville. Andrea and I were guests of one of the university deans, a friend-of-a-friend sort of thing, and we were lucky enough to sit in the first row and attend the reception afterwards. (For background about Mailer, see here and here.)
It was an easy crowd. When Mailer entered the auditorium in a double-breasted blue blazer, walking on two canes to support his bum knees, the audience stood and applauded. Last week, he’d told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that he was going to let the audience choose the topic of his talk: writing or Iraq. By the time the event started, however, he’d changed his mind. “At this moment,” he said, “I’m more interested in Iraq than the craft of writing.” So he didn’t put it to a vote as planned.
After talking about the format for a few minutes, he grinned. “Would you like a joke before we start?” It had something to do with two buffalo, grazing on the range, who are criticized for looking shabby by a passing cowboy. After the cowboy departs, one buffalo turns to the other and says, “I think we just heard our first discouraging words.”
Following the polite laughter, Mailer began reading from his book Why Are We at War? He also read a second selection from an article on the same theme that was recently published in Playboy's Fiftieth Anniversary Issue. (He didn’t bring the magazine along, instead reading from a typed manuscript that I noticed was marked with cross-outs and other emendations.)
It’s no secret that Mailer is a harsh critic of the Bush administration and the war in Iraq. After the reading, he took questions. Some quotes:
On the Bush ego: “He sees himself as a great man. Many of us do. It doesn’t mean we’re right.”
On the Iraqi state of mind: “We told them we’d take care of their problem for them ourselves, overthrow their dictator. There’s a shame involved in this for the Iraqis.”
On becoming bogged down in Iraq: “It’s shocking when you can see a situation coming up before your leaders do. There is no other way to put it: They were so fucking stupid.”
On the recent Bush press conference: “Bush was obscenely unsuited to be President, but I don’t think it’s his fault. Watching his news conference, I thought, ‘that poor son-of-a-bitch.’ . . . I saw him up there suffering from something I’ve suffered from many times before: supreme brain fatigue.”
On John Kerry: “Kerry might make a mess of things just like Bush, but I’d rather take my chances with Kerry.”
On writing novels: “Writing novels is damned tough . . . Half of all very good novels have endings not as good as the novel promises. The reason is because you lose it, the novel gets away from you.”
On old age: “One of the pleasures of old age is that you become less envious and less mean-spirited than you used to be, deep down.”
On technology: “Technology gives one promise to us all: You’re going to have more power in your life, but less pleasure.”
When Mailer was finished with the questions, he said, “Let me end the evening this way.” Then he paused, seeming to lose his train of thought. “No,” he continued, “let me end it like this. It is over. Thank you.”
At the reception afterwards, I engaged Mailer in some conversation about Mel Gibson’s The Passion of The Christ. Mailer, after all, is a movie director, and has written about the Passion. But Mailer hadn’t seen the movie. “I live in a small town, and it hasn’t made it to us yet. Gibson’s a serious fellow, and I don’t want to comment until I’ve seen the movie.”
He seemed more interested in other things, like the type of law Andrea and I practice. When we explained it to him, his eyes lit up. “Ah, like John Edwards!” he said, teasing a little. Next we talked about sushi. It turned out Mailer was staying at the Ritz in Clayton, Missouri, where Andrea and I sometimes hang out on the weekends. He said he’d been hearing all day about the sushi bar but was afraid to try it. “I like sushi,” he said, “but I want to be sure of the place first. You don’t want to get bad sushi.”
I personally vouched for the sushi at the Ritz. After that, Andrea and I yielded to some others waiting to talk, thanked our genial university hosts for the evening, and made our way home. It was certainly the most entertaining reading by a novelist I’ve attended, including those featuring John Updike and William Styron. It was Mailer’s own attitude towards the reading that set him apart: throughout the event, he was lively, engaged, and genuinely seemed to be having fun.
I am positively green with envy!
Posted by: Shelley | April 21, 2004 at 08:31 AM
Me too! Pea green. I would have loved the opportunity to hear Mailer.
Posted by: Terrance | April 21, 2004 at 08:37 AM
Novels are hard to write, and even harder to get published, I think. I wish I had been there. It sounds loke a fascinating evening.
Posted by: Tiger | April 21, 2004 at 11:23 AM
Please send me more info about mailer and extracts of the books. I would very thankful if you send me and email where i can contact him or make him a letter from Ecuador and the implications of our country in the Bush-Era global wars
Posted by: Joaquin Bejarano | November 11, 2005 at 05:28 PM