Carl Hoffman is the author of the new book Savage Harvest: A Tale of Cannibals, Colonialism, and Michael Rockefeller's Tragic Quest for Primitive Art. He also has written The Lunatic Express and Hunting Warbirds. A contributing editor at National Geographic Traveler, he is a Washington, D.C., native.
Q:
You write that you've been interested in Michael Rockefeller's story for many
years. What compelled you to write this book about him?
A:
I began traveling to remote places at about the same age as Michael, just after
graduating from college. I saw Dead Birds, the film he first worked on,
and his story resonated with me and never left me.
His
death took on the quality of myth - Michael disappearing in an alien realm that
was difficult to penetrate for us Westerners - an idea echoed by the press
accounts of the time. Wrote the photographer Eliot Elisofon, after a day of
searching for Michael: "they say if a man falls in the mud he cannot get
up without help..."
Which
was such a strange, Western thing to say, since the Asmat had been rolling in
that mud and spreading it on themselves and walking in it and living in it for
40,000 years.
By the time I began thinking about the story as a possible book project, I had traveled as a reporter to some of the furthest places in the world, and I saw those distant places as real, full of real people with real stories that, with effort, weren't alien at all, but untangleable.
By the time I began thinking about the story as a possible book project, I had traveled as a reporter to some of the furthest places in the world, and I saw those distant places as real, full of real people with real stories that, with effort, weren't alien at all, but untangleable.
And
there was enough about Michael's disappearance that I believed there was more
to know; I believed it wasn't a myth, but a real person who vanished in a real
place and that I might be able to pierce it with patience and persistence.
I
wasn’t sure I’d find anything new, but instead my researcher and I found
hundreds of pages of documents that had never been seen before, and important
living witnesses, and those all led us to new places and new
understandings.
Q: Your book goes back and forth in time, between Michael Rockefeller's era and
your own. Did you write the book more or less in the order in which it appears,
or did you move the chapters around as you worked on them?
A:
For the most part, I wrote it in the order it appears. The two events that set
the story in motion occurred the same year – 1957 – and they were thousands of
miles and thousands of years, culturally, apart.
Very
early on I had this vision of a scene, almost like a film, of these two very
different worlds preparing – of Nelson Rockefeller getting dressed in black tie
for the opening of the Museum of Primitive Art as Fanipdas and the Asmat got
ready for their journey to the Digul River.
I
imagined opening the book with those two parallel scenes. That didn’t quite
work out, but that basic idea, of these two very different worlds – and then my
own, contemporary search – all interwoven, is how I built the book.
There
was no other way that worked, that kept the action moving forward and that
allowed for the huge setting up that had to happen – you have to have this
really thorough understanding of the Asmat and all the backstory has to happen BEFORE
Michael Rockefeller disappears.
The
one thing that changed was the beginning two short chapters – his swim and his
murder. I had written much of the first half of the book and something felt
wrong with the beginning; the moment I put those two chapters there, at the
start, it all fell into place.
And
putting them there allowed me to imagine and describe in a way that would have
been impossible if they were further along in the book.
Q:
Why did you choose "Savage Harvest" as the book's title?
A:
I had a working title and as I wrote I increasingly didn’t like it and was
searching for a new one. Nothing anyone came up with was any good. And then I came across this poem by Pablo Neruda:
“I
crave your mouth, your hair, your voice.
Silent
and starving I prowl through the streets
Bread
does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me.
All
day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I
hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest.
Hunger
for the pale stones of your fingernails.
I
want to eat you like a whole almond.”
And
boom! That just hit it perfectly. It’s a book about intense and almost savage
desire – desire for the other, for art, for knowing, for my own desire for the
story, for understanding an idea that had always consumed me – the idea of so
called “primitive” culture.
It’s
a book about cannibalism and cannibalism is a literal consumption of the other,
like love, intense, passionate intimacy taken to extreme.
Inherent
to Asmat cannibalism is everything Neruda was writing about (and that’s only
the first half of the poem). Savage Harvest captured the book and everything
going on it perfectly. Of course many people think it refers to the Asmat as
savages, which is unfortunate and grossly simplistic.
Q: What fascinates people about cannibalism?
A:
I guess we’re fascinated by all things that are transgressive and the more
transgressive the more fascinated we are. We want to see the strange, to be
shocked, in part, but I also think we seek understanding.
Seeing
or hearing about things that feel shocking both confirms our own civility and
helps define us in relation to the Other, and yet allows us to ask questions
about who we are and why these things feel so shocking to us.
People
are horrified by the idea of cannibalism, yet it’s also all around us. Taking
communion, sex, especially parts of oral sex - they are built around literally
consuming, of knowing, of intimacy, of becoming one with something or someone,
by consuming them. We do it to be close to the other.
Q:
What are you working on now?
A:
I’m thinking deeply about what I want to do, what kind of story I want to tell.
Maybe a novel. Maybe another narrative non-fiction. I don’t want to rush into
anything. The story of Michael Rockefeller turned out to be so rich and so
complex and wonderful that the bar is high for me.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb
No comments:
Post a Comment