Talk To Me Baby

Another mild obsession of mine is the art of the interview. I've been reading many of them in various literary magazines (both print and online) and have noticed a few things that irk me:


1) when interviewers seem more exited by their own ideas than those presented by the interviewee (visually represented by large paragraphs of interviewer extrapolation with short replies by interviewee)
2) when interviewers completely lack presence, ask generic questions, or disrupt the flow of conversation to ask a completely irrelevant question, just to check it off the list (visually rep'd by short "mmhmm," "yes," or "ok" answers to interviewees responses)
3) when an interview reads like it's been edited (visually rep'd by the lack of human error--the only person exempt from this is Truman Capote, he just talks like that, it's not his fault) or when it actually HAS been edited
4) when an interviewee explains the essence of their profession in absolutes (example: "in order to be a writer you have to..." or "writers need..."). You'd think that writers of all people would understand how many types of people are out there. There is no definitive way to "be a writer" other than to write.


Why do we read interviews? To catch a glimpse of the un-edited version of people we admire (or don't). We want to feel like we're present and witnessing (even engaging in) real dialogue with the writer, editor, idol, Jesus, whoever. As a positive example of an interview executed deftly and subtly I give you an interview with Chris Wiman, by El Capitan de Book Slut, Jessa Crispin.


There's a natural ebb and flow of ideas and information between Crispin and Wiman here. While perhaps you learn more about the interviewer than necessary, it adds to the natural feel of the conversation. The exchange allows Wiman to feel engaged in a normal chat with a colleague rather than grilled in the spotlight. While I can't attest to his personal feelings on the matter, I would think it would let him speak more freely about himself. She gently leads him through topics, not sticking on any one subject too long but allowing the thoughts to segue nicely. Oh, gentle leader.


A great interview doesn't need to read eloquently. The interviewee might even look back on it and wince a bit. To this I say an enthusiastic "yay!" To writers who feel the need to edit your interviews--why don't you just go write an essay? At least then you're not misleading your audience. Heaven, and James Frey, know how much readers hate to be tricked.


Or, as Shane Jones put it, "Interviews are odd things and I wonder how I come off. I’m not sure it’s possible to fuck up an interview. I guess if I said something like “I like to rape kittens,” then that would cause a negative reaction and books wouldn’t be sold. The other side is I can be really smart and clever and charming and people want to buy the book. Really, I’m just trying to answer interview questions honestly and kind of quickly"(from an interview by Laura Van Den Berg, Book Slut).



Afterthought: Somehow all of this got me thinking about those "gentle leader" harness/muzzles you see on dogs sometimes, so I'll give you a pictures of that too:

He just looks silly.