Poe Exhibition

Thanks to Mark Sarvas for pointing out that “From Out That Shadow: The Life and Legacy of Edgar Allan Poe” has just opened at the Harry Ransom Center (University of Texas at Austin). (It runs through January 3, 2010, for any of you who may get to Austin between now and then.)

The exhibition marks Poe’s bicentennial, and it sounds terrific:

The exhibition is organized into 12 sections: “The Early Years,” which covers Poe’s family and his student days at the University of Virginia; “Working Writer,” about Poe’s daily activities earning money and engaging with other writers; “Poe in Love,” which documents the many women in Poe’s life; “Death and Infamy,” devoted to the circumstances of Poe’s death and the immediate downturn of his reputation; “Poe the Poet”; “The Raven,” which is dedicated to the most famous of Poe’s poems; “Poe the Critic”; “Detection,” which surveys Poe’s stories and his influence upon later writers of mysteries; “Poe and Science,” which explores Poe’s engagement in topics ranging from shells to astronomy; “The Haunted Mind,” which uses portraits and illustrations to investigate the psychological aspects of Poe’s work and Poe the man; and “Poe in France” and “Perspectives on Poe,” which look at the important influence of Poe upon later writers.

If any of you do visit the exhibition (or if you caught it when it was at the University of Virginia Library earlier this year), please share your impressions! I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d be grateful.

Asaf Ramon, 1989-2009: "…every heart breaks today…."

That describes it. I know that I could feel a piece of my own heart breaking when I heard the terrible news that Asaf Ramon had been killed when his Israel Air Force F-16 jet crashed during a training flight.

Ramon was the eldest son of Ilan Ramon, the Israeli astronaut who perished with his American colleagues on the Columbia. I recall that I was in London for a conference when the news broke about the Columbia. And as much as that tragedy shook me for its reminders of the Challenger and the loss of my own countrymen, I know that a big part of the reason that I spent all of my non-conference time glued to the television in my hotel room was, quite simply, Ilan Ramon. His story. His history. His significance to his country.

I pray for the Ramon family. As Israeli President Shimon Peres said at the funeral on Monday, “every heart breaks today because the son of the Ramon family was the son of us all – today we are all the Ramon family.”

For more coverage, please visit Haaretz and The New York Times.

A Democracy of Ghosts: An Interview with John Griswold

A DEMOCRACY OF GHOSTS: AN INTERVIEW WITH JOHN GRISWOLD

By Erika Dreifus

If you visit my Practicing Writing blog, you know that I’m a longtime fan of John Griswold (also known in the writing world as “Oronte Churm”). So I was thrilled when John announced that his first novel, A Democracy of Ghosts, was to be published by Wordcraft of Oregon. And I was equally delighted when John agreed to answer some questions for all of us.

John’s writing has appeared in Ninth Letter, Brevity, and Natural Bridge, and in the anthologies The Best Creative Nonfiction, Vol. 3 (W.W. Norton) and Mountain Man Dance Moves (McSweeney’s Books). A nonfiction book will be out in 2010 from The History Press. He also writes as Oronte Churm for Inside Higher Ed and McSweeney’s. John lives with his wife and two sons in Urbana, Ill., where he teaches at the University of Illinois. Read more at www.JohnGriswold.net.

(This interview originally appeared in the September 2009 issue of The Practicing Writer)

ERIKA DREIFUS (ED): John, your novel is a work of historical fiction in multiple respects. The central action is indeed something that is part of American history. But this is also a work of family history: William J. Sneed, your maternal grandfather, is the model for the book’s protagonist Bill Sneed. What did you find to be the most significant challenge in writing historical fiction that is also, in a way, family history?

JOHN GRISWOLD (JG): The challenge was to find a plausible fictional answer to my real-life question: How could the people of a region I know so well have been involved in this thing called the Herrin Massacre, in which 20 nonunion workers from outside the community were tortured and killed in a mine riot in 1922? Where does anger on that scale come from? Fiction is particularly suited to answering that at the level of the individual.

My grandfather was not in town the day of the Massacre, he was at the state Constitutional Convention, but an earlier exchange of telegrams he had with labor leader John L. Lewis is often seen as one of the precipitating events. In life my mother idolized her father, whom I never knew, as a compassionate and perhaps even brilliant politician and labor leader. My challenge was to imagine one possible way all this could co-exist.

ED: What would you like readers, who may be encountering an account of the Herrin Massacre for the first time, to take away from your novel as far as their awareness of the event is concerned? What lessons, or unresolved questions, should we be thinking about?

JG: Unresolved is a good way to look at it. One reason I chose this event as a backdrop is that it seems to me there was no way out for those involved, in an almost classical sense of tragedy. The miners in Southern Illinois were in a system beyond their control, as we all are to varying degrees. Yet despite our limited understanding of situations we also have hope, ambition, and the desire to change things for the better.

Coal mining has always been hard, dangerous work, and at the end of the Gilded Age, miners’ pay was low and benefits nonexistent. From 1884 to 1912 a staggering 42,898 miners were killed on the job in the U.S. The union came along just before the turn of the century and started to change that. My hometown, Herrin, was seen as the heart of the most radical (and successful) UMWA district in the country.

This was also the era of a kind of class warfare in this country. John D. Rockefeller’s private mine guards and the Colorado National Guard had attacked a tent colony of 1,200 miners and their families in 1914 with machine-gun and rifle fire, then burned and looted it. Twenty-five died, including two women and ten children who suffocated in a pit under a tent where they’d gone to hide. A small civil war was fought over these issues in 1921 at the Battle of Bair Mountain in West Virginia; the U.S. Army sent planes down to bomb the miners. It was serious business on both sides of the conflict, and in the end there was no good way out. But a novel doesn’t need to offer up solutions. It just needs to portray people struggling in a concrete, sensory world.

ED: What surprised you most as you worked on this book?

JG: Sometimes after I’d used the process of writing fiction to understand how a character would react to something or what she’d say, my research would confirm it as historically accurate. Fiction and historical fact don’t have to go together, but it was pleasant validation.

ED: How did the novel find its home at Wordcraft of Oregon?

JG: My colleague Steve Davenport said I should read the novelist Duff Brenna, whom he’d gotten to know online. I did and liked his work, and Steve made a virtual introduction. Duff later published me in Perigree, where he’s the fiction editor, then told me I should submit something to Wordcraft, where he’s got a book. Publisher David Memmott kindly took my novel.

My next book, by the way, will be with The History Press, which I found through a listing at your site. It’s good to know people. (Erika’s note: I am delighted to have played a small role in the publication of John’s next book!)

ED: It appears that you needed to secure permission to reprint letter excerpts, an excerpt from a newspaper article, and some lines from Emily Dickinson. Please tell us about the permissions process.

JG: It’s easy get permissions to use text or even photographs (as with the nonfiction book I’m finishing), if you can find the holders of the rights. Sometimes authors, their heirs, and the publishing companies are all long gone, despite copyright still being in effect. Other times (as with Dickinson), you wouldn’t think copyright still holds, but it does. The most frustrating part of rights licensing is how wildly policies vary. Some give permission in exchange for a mere credit line, while others charge exorbitant fees, in my opinion. But the problem is widespread now in this our digital age: What’s intellectual property worth, and who should have access to it?

ED: Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?

JG: Thanks, Erika, for having me! The NPR station at the University of Illinois will do an interview with me on October 26, 2009, at 10 a.m., and I hope readers will tune in and call the toll-free line to continue the discussion.

ED: Thank you so much, John!

(c) 2009 Erika Dreifus.