I admit that I had not heard of Colson Whitehead until Lighthouse started sending well-crafted e-mails invitations to hear him speak at the Jones Theater. A sucker for good prose, I started to warm to the idea. Then I learned that he had won a MacArthur “genius” grant. My antennae perked up even more. But ultimately the issue boiled down to Vitamin D: would I, a person who had moved 2,000 miles to Denver to absorb more sunlight, sacrifice a few hours of Colorado’s afternoon autumn rays to sit in a darkened, windowless auditorium?
Thank goodness I did! See Andrea’s post from yesterday for some of the juiciest nuggets. I also got the impression that this man is a true artist, writing for the love of, and to master, the craft, rather than to see his name in lights. He mentioned that each of his books is very different from the others – either in theme or voice - to keep challenging himself as a writer. That must take enormous courage, to wander into uncharted literary territory after having written a critical success.
And, what was also refreshing about sitting within spitting distance (nugget #3) of Mr. Whitehead was, in this culture of celebrities, to observe his modesty, if not outright self-deprecation. When asked by his interlocutor what sorts of questions he poses to other writers, Mr. Whitehead confessed that he wasn’t really good at interviewing people. Despite being heaped with accolades and awards, he came across as being just a wee bit uncomfortable to be on stage, reluctant to even be taking up the entire space of his chair. He admitted just how difficult writing is, especially at the beginning of a project. He might have even used the word “sucks” to describe it (I can't recall exactly) and, if he did not use that particular palabra, he certainly did not gloss over the unique anguish of creating with words. Most endearingly, he acknowledged that he likes “having written”. That was both intensely reassuring – ‘hey, he's just like the rest of us!’ – and a bit unnerving –‘you mean it never gets any easier?’ But, on the whole, hearing him read and speak amidst the camaraderie of other Lighthousers was like taking a multivitamin for my soul. It left me wanting to revisit, with a new eye and a more patient heart, my stack of essay drafts. Even if the sun was out.
