Paul Lisicky is the author of the new book The Narrow Door: A Memoir of a Friendship, which focuses on his friendship with the late writer Denise Gess. His other books include Famous Builder and The Burning House, and his work has appeared in a variety of publications, including The Atlantic and BuzzFeed. He teaches in the MFA program at Rutgers University-Camden.
Q: Why did you decide to
write this memoir, and what did your friendship with Denise Gess mean to you?
A: I started writing about
Denise as a way to keep her in the world a while longer, to hold on to her walk
and facial reactions and the sound of her laughter. I didn’t have grand plans.
But once I started to
accumulate material, it was clear to me I was writing about friendship and
relationships—or, more specifically, attachment. Who are we when we lose our
sidekicks? The book is an attempt to metabolize that question.
As for what Denise meant to
me..sidekick can be broken down into components. Mentor, mentee, chosen
sibling, crush, best friend, she was all these things and more over the course
of our 26-year-long friendship.
Q: The book jumps back and
forth from more recent times to decades earlier. Did you plan the structure
before you started writing, or did it develop as you went along?
A: Anyone who’s lost somebody
knows that grief isn’t a linear story: it moves sideways and backwards, ahead,
then backwards again. It doesn’t obey the rules of clock time, and I knew from the
get-go it would have been false to my experience to write a chronological book.
I needed a form that gave me
multiple layers and levels to suggest simultaneity. My hope is that a memory
from, say, 2004 is permeated by a memory from 1984. In doing that it wants to
enact something about time and recurrence.
Q: You also include sections
on musicians, particularly Joni Mitchell. Why did you include those sections in
the book?
A: Denise and I both loved
Joni Mitchell’s work and bonded over our deep appreciation for her albums,
especially the mid-‘70s albums: The Hissing of Summer Lawns, Hejira, Don Juan’s
Reckless Daughter.
But Joni is also important
for the adventurous and idiosyncratic work she did, based as it was on all
sorts of alternate guitar tunings an unorthodox song forms. Later in her
career, you can hear the pressure of commercial expectations on the work, and
some freshness is lost. In trying to speak to a wider audience, it loses its
self-attunement.
Denise herself struggled
against the burden of commercial pressures with her second novel, so the book
is inviting you to hold the travails of the two artists against each other.
What do you do when your role model loses her way for a while?
Q: You also focus on your
relationship with your ex-husband, a poet. Do you see a comparison between how
the two relationships affected you?
A: The book certainly invites
the reader to compare the two relationships. Both Denise and Mark started out
as mentors to me, then one became a best friend, the other a romantic partner.
The mentor-mentee
relationship is complex in that it’s never static; a certain sense of
equilibrium can be threatened when the mentee archives something and is no
longer a subordinate. How to navigate all that?
Q: The book deals with
various feelings of grief and loss. Was it difficult to write about some of
your experiences?
A: It was tough to write the
book, but it would have been much tougher not to write it. Often when we lose
someone we spend so much time assuring everyone we’re okay. There isn’t much
permission to be sad, or lost, or even incompetent, even from those who care
about us.
That can wear us out, and at
least I had a verbal reliquary box. Sometimes the difficult is exactly what you
need to do.
Q: What are you working on
now?
A: Last summer I finished the
first draft of a new memoir. It’s set in Provincetown in the early 1990s when I
first moved to town as a Writing Fellow at the Fine Arts Work Center. The AIDS
crisis was at its height and the town was a place where people came to find
solace and community.
But the continual loss of
people affected everyone, regardless of age or gender or sexual identity. It
was a time of devastation but also a time of great humor and joy, and I wanted
to summon up that era before it passed out of collective memory.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb. Paul Lisicky will be participating in the Bethesda Literary Festival, which runs from April 15-17, 2016, in Bethesda, Maryland.
This is inspiring! (Esp. "I needed a form that gave me multiple layers and levels to suggest simultaneity. My hope is that a memory from, say, 2004 is permeated by a memory from 1984. In doing that it wants to enact something about time and recurrence.")
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