Dear reader The public holidays are over and there are people and traffic in the streets again. It’s also a bit delicious. In this week’s book letter, I take a closer look at the American author Joyce Carol Oates, who writes books full of violence, but is offended if you ask her why. I contribute to news’s election coverage by looking at three excellent new books about municipal life and explain where it has come from critic Marta Norheim. I have been a guest at “Brenner shares poems”, and cried a lot in Hans Olav Brenner’s studio. Do you have the coffee ready? We roll on. It was perhaps luck that I didn’t get an interview appointment with Joyce Carol Oates when she was in Oslo last week, because I wanted to ask why she writes such violent books. It turns out that as early as 1981, Oates wrote an article in the New York Times in which she wants to withdraw from that question, which she believes is sexist. No one asks men why they write violently, says Oates, so why are you asking me? I think she’s right. Have you seen interviews where male authors like Stephen King or Cormac McCarthy are asked this question? At the same time, I get a little annoyed with Oates for dismissing the question so categorically. Sex and violence are the main ingredients in her novels, and she pays close attention to the painful details. ACTIVE: Joyce Carol Oates has turned 85 years old, but rushes around at festivals and interviews. At the same time, she manages to write. She is one of America’s most prolific writers. Photo: Aslaug Gaundal / Stiftelsen Litteraturhuset In the novel “Barnevakten” (published in Norwegian this year) there is rape and murder of children, as well as violence against the female protagonist. The book is 500 pages long, and although I often think sex & violence in books is top notch, I had to take breaks and catch up. I think the reason we react strongly to the violence in Oates’ books is that she offers a different perspective. I have written my master’s thesis on serial killers on film, and it is striking how often the interest in the stories lies in the mysterious killer or the detective. The victims are usually supporting characters. Think of all the scenes in TV series where the female corpse on the cold autopsy table is only a source of information to solve the crime case! When Oates picks up a real serial killer case from Detroit in 1977, it is the victims she is interested in. Children aged ten to twelve were kidnapped, sexually abused and killed. The abuser was nicknamed “The Babysitter” because he washed and tended the children’s clothes and placed them next to their naked, dead bodies in a kind of “caring” gesture. The child murders in Detroit were so shocking that they were covered in national newspapers. Here from the New York Times, with a picture of the mother of one of the victims and the policeman who found the body. Facsimile: New York Times Fortunately, Oates does not go directly into the abuse of the children. The protagonist of the novel is a rich, white housewife who is caught in a violent sexual relationship with a man in the circle of the child killer. Again and again Oates describes the same scene: Hannah walking down a long hotel corridor, on her way to her lover, possibly on her way to a brutal death. Why? Violence is less entertaining when we experience it from the victim’s point of view than when it is a case for the CSI gang. That’s why the violence seems so much stronger in her books than in a “normal” thriller, I think. That also makes her books important. SMALL AND TOUGH: For some reason, it seems surprising that a small and young lady can write about such horrible events. Here on stage with journalist Karin Haugen. Photo: Aslaug Gaundal / Stiftelsen Litteraturhuset Oates first gave a lecture at Litteraturhuset about why she writes literature. Witnessing violence committed against children and women is a central driving force, she said. The following day, the author was interviewed in the university auditorium. Then Oates said that she likes to tackle older (unsolved) criminal cases and write about them in the light of hindsight. As a young and newlywed, Oates was living in Detroit when the Babysitters ravaged. It was at this time that the old car manufacturing city changed its nickname from Motor City to Murder City. She still feels affected by this unsafe time, she said. When Oates brings up the serial killer case almost 50 years later, she sees it in the light of revolutionary phenomena such as metoo, blacklivesmatter and revelations of sexual abuse of children by Catholic priests. This is how she sheds new light on racism, sexism and class differences in her country. Oates processes and documents American history, while at the same time giving us an engrossing reading experience. Swipe here for two other examples of Oates’ use of historical figures: When the swan was a duckling This is the first image of Marilyn Monroe in print. Then she was still the unknown Norma Jean Baker and worked in a factory. The picture sparked the imagination of Joyce Carol Oates, who began a major research project on Marilyn’s life.Behind the facade When Oates delved into Marilyn’s life, she found material for a 700-page novel. Among other things, she shows some reasons why the young woman had such a hunger for attention. Did Ted Kennedy get away with murder? On July 18, 1969, Senator Edward Kennedy drove his Oldsmobile off the road on the island of Chappaquiddick, into a body of water. He got away, but left a young woman in the car to die. Rather than call for an ambulance, he ran off and called his lawyer. He avoided trial. She was the victim Mary Jo Kopechne had worked for Bobby Kennedy and met TBrother Ed Kennedy at a closing with some other young female associates. Getting into the car of the powerful senator was the last thing she did. Oates depicts the scandal in a new way In the short novel “Black Water”, Oates tells a story that is strikingly similar to the Chappaquiddick scandal. The narrative is put into the mouth of a young woman who is slowly drowning, locked in the sinking car. PS. Both the lecture and eventually the interview will be available on Litteraturhuset’s podcast Word of the Week I promised to bring some literary gossip from the publisher’s party season, but I’m probably not that strong at society journalism. On the other hand, I can bring to market a new word: Scrape the whole picture At the Cappelen Damm party, I threw myself down on a table that presented itself as the “debut table”, although it turned out that only one of them, Didrik Dyrdal, was real 2023 debutant. They explained that several people around the table were “coronade debutantes”. This means that they got no launch party, no publishing party, no debutant seminars and readings. Thus, they have to sneak in a bit among this year’s debutantes. Not that they complained about the situation, but I hadn’t thought about how hard it must have been to publish your first book during the corona. I will keep an extra eye on the corona debutantes in the future. DEBUT SELFIE. From left: Karen Havelin, Anna Albrigtsen, Bruno Jovanovic, Lina-Marie Ulvestad Halås, Andreas Veie-Rosvoll, Jonas Sundquist, Kjersti Halvorsen, Didrik Dyrdal The municipality: Convoluted bureaucracy or warm care giver? The municipal elections are just around the corner, and I have been looking for the municipality in literature. But what exactly is the municipality, and how can it become good literature? My first association with the word municipality is gray concrete buildings and tortuous regulations. But the municipality is also responsible for care tasks for its residents from birth to grave. Just as I sat pondering the municipality, a package of books from the publisher Cappelen Damm arrived. And see! It contained two novels and a collection of short stories, all of which were added to municipal life. I haven’t had time to finish reading them, so this is not a review, but an introduction to talking about municipal life. Photo: Karin Bye Stensø / news 1. “I have colleagues” by Camilla Bogetun Johansen Behind the nice title we find a novel about a woman who would prefer to be a writer. When she is rejected from the writing school, she has to get a job in a hurry. It will be in housing for mentally disabled people with autism. The days are characterized by physical and monotonous work, in constant fear of kicks and punches. The job is to activate the residents, but for some of them it is more rewarding to stand and stare at the jackets in the hallway, or to eat detergent and faeces. How to find meaning in work? The author brings out the important care that municipal employees give to their weakest, at the same time that the job gives little in return. 2. “Routine by notification” by Tone Myklebust In the short story “They call it a collaboration meeting” we meet a distraught mother on her way to a meeting with the school. The daughter has special needs, and the mother looks back on the first meeting with the school. Then the headmaster was full of beautiful promises about how they would stand up to ensure the vulnerable child a safe everyday school life. But after a good start, the school withdraws from its promises, bit by bit. The parents’ desperate appeals are met with platitudes such as “good dialogue” and “collaboration meetings”, without anything happening. I recognize such stories from family and friends, and they are despairing. 3. “Rich is a people who has the forest” by Amalie Kasin Lerstang In this novel, individual leadership stands against municipal bureaucracy. The main character Eva Brattheim loves to walk in the forest. One day she sees in the local newspaper that a road is to be built right through her favorite hiking area. That is not okay. Strictly speaking, national roads are part of the National Road Administration’s area, but you have to get involved locally, thinks Eva, and writes articles to the municipality and the local newspaper. But how to formulate the meaning of the evening sun through heavy pine branches or a playful squirrel on a stump, when what is at stake is big money and faster progress? The novel places us in the middle of a central political dilemma: Our ability to influence political decisions that concern our lives. As a side character, it formulates: Whether you work in the municipality or just use its services, feel free to read one or more of these books in addition to taking the news poll. Maybe change your focus a bit? Where has Marta Norheim gone? Regular listeners of Åpen bok and Nyhetsmorgen may have noticed a new voice on the radio? Chief critic Marta Norheim is on leave to live in Berlin for six months, and Gerd Elin Stava Sandve has stepped in as a substitute. In order not to make the change too dramatic, the management has ensured that the position is still held by a Westerner with curls with Nynorsk as the target form. ACCESS news: Gerd Elin Stava Sandve is 47 years old, from Bryne in Rogaland. Previous employer is Dagsavisen. Photo: Siss Vik / news Marta is the leader of our pack of critics, but Gerd Elin takes the assignment head on. In order to get to know her a little, I have asked her some important questions: 1. What is your favorite book from childhood? – The picture book “I Morgentåkedalen” by Jan Deberitz and Ronald Jakobsen. There we meet the moss cats – small, scared, shaggy creatures who love mushrooms. A classic heroic tale, illustrated with exceptionally evocative watercolors. 2. Which book has made you cry the most? – The start of “Brødrene Løvehjerte” by Astrid Lindgren, when little brother Kavring thinks he’s going to die, but then it’s big brother who actually does it? Hulk! 3. Who is the funniest Norwegian author you know? – Agnes Ravatn’s dry-witted explanations of the difference between Easterners and Westerners are delicious. The same is true of Janne Stigen Drangsholt’s books about the neurotic heroine Ingrid Winter. So, we’re a bit familiar then. I look forward to hearing and reading Gerd Elin’s reviews throughout the autumn. Laughing at Brenner’s I have previously written about a poem that gripped me unexpectedly hard. Recently, Hans Olav Brenner invited me to talk about that poem in his podcast. On the way into the studio, I was afraid that I would appear cold and cynical about a sensitive topic, as I felt I had put the experience behind me. But when I read Thor Magnus Tangerås’s beautiful poem aloud, it broke for me again. After an hour’s conversation in recording, producer Christine came in and said that here we probably have to cut out some of the grinning. According to Hans Olav and Christine, this often happens in the studio. They have discovered that poems have an ability to touch us in the softest parts of the soul. It is indeed pure magic. Now you can listen to the program about the poem “are you snow, are you wind” by Thor Magnus Tangerås. The fact that his collection of poems “Ø” has not received a literary prize must be due to neglect somewhere in the system. The book is fantastic, both poetically ingenious and with emotional punch. Ok, time to fly on Last letter I asked for examples of cases where the movie is better than the book. Many tips came in that made me want to both read and watch films. “The Cuckoo’s Nest” and the TV adaptation of “Normal People” stand next. Thank you for your commitment! Feel free to tell me about good reading experiences or about your literary fads, by e-mail to [email protected]. I’m rewarding some submitters with our new custom bookmark. Do you have family and friends who like to read? Tell them about the Bokbrevet, then! Talk to you in two weeks! Sis
ttn-69
Book letter #20 Joyce Carol Oates and municipal literature – Siss Vik’s book letter
