Harriet Scott Chessman is the author of the new novel The Beauty of Ordinary Things. Her other books include Someone Not Really Her Mother, Lydia Cassatt Reading the Morning Paper, and Ohio Angels. She lives in the San Francisco Bay area.
Q: Why did you decide to make one of your main characters a
Vietnam veteran?
A: Benny Finn came to me from the start as someone who had
suffered -- someone who had great sensitivity, and who couldn't shut out his
suffering, or that of people around him. I also knew, from the first, that
he was the oldest child in a large Irish Catholic family, in a suburb of
Boston, in the early 1970s.
Having been a college student myself in 1968-72, I will
never forget the centrality of the Vietnam War in all our lives then. The draft
was an ever-present reality, quite frightening, as were the images and news
stories coming out of Vietnam each day.
Pretty soon in my writing about Benny, I realized that this
character's sense of suffering and despair could arise in part out of his
experience as a soldier in that incredibly difficult War.
Q: How did you choose the title, The Beauty of Ordinary
Things?
A: This may sound ridiculous, but I first discovered this
phrase in a Chinese restaurant's fortune cookie: "You appreciate the
beauty of ordinary things." (!!) I loved that! and held onto
that little white piece of paper, and the idea of ordinary things as shining
with an inherent beauty, for a long time.
The first title I chose, seven years ago, was actually Benny
Finn Writes to God, yet once I started adding in additional voices (at first,
my character Isabel's, and then Sister Clare's), I wasn't sure this title fit
100%.
The letter Benny writes to Sister Clare, about how ordinary
things help him stay in the world, inspired me to choose The Beauty of Ordinary
Things as my new title.
I felt confirmed in this choice when I came upon the concept
of "Ordinary Time," in the Catholic liturgical calendar. Benny and
Sister Clare tell their stories over the course of the summer of 1974,
primarily in Ordinary Time (from the Monday after Pentecost to the Saturday
before the First Sunday of Advent).
I also discovered that Thomas Merton has written powerfully
about the importance of remaining open to the sacred within each moment and
object and person. In No Man Is An Island, he writes about "the value and
the beauty in ordinary things." I have yet to study Merton's work, and
hope to do this soon!
In a larger sense, I wanted to write a book that honored the
ordinary and the modest. Like Benny, I wanted to do what I could to tell
the truth, without bells or whistles.
I felt that it was only in that effort that I would be able
to come anywhere near the hem of the garment of the sacred. The sacred is IN
the ordinary -- this is something I deeply believe. Yet I don't think it can be
written about easily or directly -- at least, I couldn't figure out how to do
this.
By focusing on my characters and their choices, the daily
nature of their lives, I hoped to gesture toward something sacred, something
deeper, threading through.
Q: What do you see as the role of Sister Clare's convent,
and what impact does it have on the various characters?
A: I think this story depends on Our Lady of the Meadow, the
Benedictine Abbey I imagine here. I didn't realize this in earlier versions of
the novel; it was something I gradually came to understand.
For Benny Finn, as for Isabel Howell (the young woman with
whom Benny falls in love -- his younger brother Liam's girlfriend), the Abbey
is a place of stability and growth. As Benedictines, the members of this
Community vow stability (literally, to remain in place), conversatio morum (to
change one's ways, and also to be constantly open to change), and obedience.
In the chaotic, brutal experience of war, and even in the
difficulty and chaos of ordinary life, Benny especially is missing all of these
elements. He is missing the sense of this world -- our world -- as filled with
significance, love, and meaning. His family is loving, of course, yet I felt it
to be important that he find a new place where he could at last, in a sense,
lie down and weep, just totally let it all go, before he could start to rise up
again and get to work at the business of living, within a new framework.
Sister Clare offers him a model of a life focused on
something greater than oneself -- something that requires devotion, labor, and
grace. Accepting a form (the hours of the office, the Benedictine Rule) helps
her rise out of the confines of her own self, as she strives to live with
greater freedom.
It's a paradox, I know, but I do believe this can happen --
to accept a kind of architecture to one's life, a sense of parameters, and to
dedicate yourself to this form of life, can actually free you and open you to
growth. I feel that, in my own life, writing has been like an Abbey.
Q: What kind of research did you do to write this novel?
A: Our Lady of the Meadow, in my novel, is inspired by a
wonderful Community I have known for thirty-five years: The Abbey of Regina
Laudis, in Bethelehem, Connecticut. A beloved friend, Mother Lucia Kuppens,
O.S.B., entered this Abbey in 1979, after gaining her PhD in English with me at
Yale University, and I have always honored and been amazed by her choice.
In a sense, I think I wrote this novel toward her, trying to
understand at least some fraction of her life. She is one of the kindest,
wisest, and most compassionate people I have ever known, and also one of the
most modest, private, and contemplative. Through her I came to know many of the
vibrant nuns in this Abbey.
Like my character Isabel, I have often picked apples or
gooseberries, beans or potatoes; I've had the chance to walk through the
pastures to greet the cows; I've listened to the Gregorian chant and heard the
prayers and homilies; I've celebrated magnificent occasions and anniversaries; I've
tasted delicious Abbey meals.
Still, I have been woefully aware of my ignorance. I
grew up Baptist, not Catholic, and I did have to do quite a bit of research
into both Catholicism and Benedictine life.
I also read books and essays about the Vietnam War.
One of the books that has meant the most to me is Tim O'Brien's TheThings They Carried.
Q: What are you working on now?
A: I am actually writing the libretto for an opera being
composed by my friend Jonathan Berger, a magnificent composer who teaches at
Stanford University.
This opera, in Jonathan's vision, is about Hugh Thompson,
the helicopter pilot who intervened in the massacre at My Lai on the morning of
March 16, 1968. It has been fascinating and thrilling to have the chance to
work with Jonathan in this quite different form.
Hugh Thompson was an extraordinary person -- heroic in the
way he courageously and passionately followed his heart and conscience that
day, not the orders of his superiors -- and it's a great joy to be able to
contribute to a work in his honor.
I also have short stories in the works, and I may go back to
wrestling with a novel, located in 19th century New Orleans.
Q: Anything else we should know?
A: I feel incredibly lucky to have the chance to write, and
even luckier to have found a publisher -- Mark Cunningham of Atelier26 Books --
willing and eager to accept a novel this compact and literary, within such a
daunting publishing climate.
Mark is a publisher with great vision and humanity. I would
love to see the rest of the book world follow his lead, as he focuses on
genuinely literary work, in beautiful editions (real paper and gorgeous
design!). He is devoted to independent bookstores, and has created an inspiring
website honoring literature and these special indies, so important to our
cultural life.
I hope your readers will enjoy looking into this beautiful website of Atelier26 Books. For more information about my writing, readers are also
welcome to look into my own website. I am also on Facebook, and welcome fellow readers and
writers.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb. This interview also appears on www.hauntinglegacy.com.
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