Q&A with Jessica Elisheva Emerson

 

 

 

Jessica Elisheva Emerson is the author of the new novel Olive Days. Also a poet and a playwright, she lives in the Sonoran Desert.

 

Q: What inspired you to write Olive Days, and how did you create your character Rina?

 

A: Not long after I moved into Pico-Robertson [Los Angeles] in 2005, a young friend told me that he’d heard about a sort of swinging group in the community (he was unmarried and not himself a part of it). Fascinated, I was able to conduct a handful of interviews with folks. And then I just sat with the idea for years before I started writing.

 

For a while I thought I might write a love triangle, between a husband, a wife, and the man she sleeps with as part of such an arrangement. But it didn’t feel interesting or ring true for me.

 

One day, while out on a walk—that’s where I do most of my writing, in my head on walks—I developed Rina. And from there a story came together, a story of betrayal, identity, obsession, and, above all, as with most of my writing, women’s desire.

 

Q: How was the novel’s title chosen, and what does it signify for you?

 

A: My original working title—for the decade I was working on the book—was (from the verb: to know). Yup, a parenthetical, that’s how bad it was. I always knew it would be changed, and was hoping that when it sold, my publisher would pick a great title.

 

The beautiful, writer-centered people at Counterpoint Press asked me to create a list of possible alternative titles. And I gently asked them if they would be better suited for the job. We agreed to both work on options, and a version of Olive Days was on both lists.

 

It’s a perfect title for the book, and captures the imperfect yearnings of Rina’s heart. Also, the first big olive days scene comes in the same scene as the idea of being known…the concept underlying the original working title.

 

Q: What do you see as the role of religion in the novel?

 

A: Judaism is a beautiful, complicated, wondrous thing. It provides Rina with important “containers” that help her order her life, helps this incredible community in Los Angeles flourish, and is comprised of ancient texts, laws, rituals, values, holidays, and customs that have so much relevance to modern life.

 

I wanted readers to experience Jewish life the way Rina does, which is unique to her: meaningful, beautiful, compelling, confusing, at times oppressive, and—above everything—utterly necessary. Jewish life is ordered according to time, and so I ordered the book according to time to try to match the flow of how Rina experiences life.

 

Of course, Rina is also an atheist, and I wanted to clearly portray some of her internal struggle, while also being careful to write about religion and culture separately from theology.

 

Q: In an article in Kveller, Bonnie Azoulay writes, “Emerson aptly details what it’s like to live a life that was never meant for you—a life molded by traditions and duties over desire.” What do you think of that description?

 

A: Bonnie’s article about Olive Days was so moving, and she captured a key element of Rina’s life. Although, part of what I wanted readers to walk away with is that duty versus desire is a false dichotomy.

 

Rina might believe she has to choose, but I give lots of clues that the community and her tradition support the exploration of desire. But there’s no doubt that Rina’s life is molded by tradition and duty—even if she puts some of the pressure on herself—and that she feels duty-bound.

 

Q: What are you working on now?

 

A: The novel I’m writing now is also set in the Jewish community in Los Angeles, but a very different part of the community. It’s about an aging folk-rock star who—after he decides to self-immolate in the name of climate change, and begins putting plans into place—meets and falls in love with his 50-year-old neighbor, a water rights activist.

 

Like most of my stories, it’s an obsessive love story. But it’s also tied up in the ecology of California, Jewish folk rock, and encroaching fascism. With lots of martinis and exploration of women’s desire.

 

Q: Anything else we should know?

 

A: There are a couple of themes in this book that I get asked about less, but I always like to talk about.

 

One is the background storyline about agunot, Jewish women who are chained to bad marriages by husbands who refuse to give them a get, a Jewish divorce. It’s an issue where, initially, Rina is not on the correct side.

 

I wanted there to be some tension with Rina being a sort of metaphorical agunah. She feels chained to her marriage—even if there are realistic paths out—and it dictates all her frustration, all her choices, and the way she processes her feelings of betrayal after her husband asks her to attend a swinging party.

 

The other is invisible women. I’m obsessed with the idea of invisible women. There’s a common trope that after a certain age women become invisible to society, but also women of all ages are invisible. And we are the building blocks of society.

 

A million women writers could keep writing nothing but stories of invisible women for decades and we still wouldn’t come close to matching the world’s output of creative work centered on men. I’m so grateful for all the brilliant women out there writing these stories.

 

--Interview with Deborah Kalb