…But the fact remains that you—well, the bulk of you, anyhow, given that, yes, yes, of course, which of us has not noticed that certain ones among us have already made it their business to get up and head, not unnoisily, I might add, for the doors?—the fact nevertheless remains that the bulk of you have been sitting here with me for long enough to doubtless be considered as having earned for yourselves every dire sentence in my repertoire…
My Romance: A Novel by Gordon Lish; 160 pages, Paperback; Published October 6, 2005 by Thunder's Mouth Press; ISBN: 9781560257981 (ISBN10: 1560257989)
…but as you can also probably see, or saw at least as I walked up here, my trousers are excessively large, I wear these trousers that are lavishly large, and it is sometimes no easy business, I can tell you, fetching anything back up from out of these pockets—sometimes to find something, to get your hand on something, you have to really reach around inside of these unusually large pockets…
Eight years would pass from the time I first discovered the writings of Gordon Lish until I actually met him in person. And in that initial period of my discovery I read everything the man had previously written, not to mention his magazine The Quarterly. In 1987 that amazing magazine is where I first saw his name as the editor. And in that magazine it was provided that Gordon himself was a writer too, which directed me to Louisville’s local Hawley-Cooke bookstore which just so happened to have a number of his books available for me to purchase as well as the current issue of The Quarterly sitting in the magazine rack. So from 1987 until 1995 I read everything I could find, every magazine, every book, and began sending my own work to this infamous editor. Gordon was famous for his editing of writers like Raymond Carver and Jack Gilbert, not to mention Amy Hempel and a cast of countless others including yours truly. Attending my first “Gordon Lish fiction-writing class” held on the campus of Indiana University was when I first met him in the flesh. Gordon was indeed wearing the “costume” he claimed he always wore. I joyfully observed him “fetching” something out of his pockets and witnessing the flamboyant exertion required to get his hands on what he was presumably searching for.
…it occurs to me to say that there is nothing that we do that is not a trick of some sort. Depend upon it—that if people do it, there must be a pretty good trick to it…
And that is true for most of what we do. I figure reading this bit near the front is preparing us for what is to come on the pages to follow. Gordon Lish is the ultimate performer whether in person or on the page.
…no harm can come to me from this—although I am a small man and am by nature routinely afraid enough to hear the rashness of such a declaration inflaming the fates, as they say. But done is done, as they also say. No going back to grab hold…
This is a constant theme in Lish’s everyday life. He is not making it up, exaggerating, or contradicting any prior position. The man loves, and I mean loves, being Jewish. He is a fellow lamb who is always living in fear of being led to slaughter. Fear not only excites him it leads him into and away from danger much as do both ends of a magnet. During one visit to NYC Gordon was conducting a tour on foot of SOHO for my wife and I. Eventually we entered a specialty grocery store he was rather smitten with and in an aisle or two over from where we were he noticed a professor who he claimed was the husband of one of the women he was currently having a dalliance with. Gordon still being a spry and rather unimposing figure he quickly whisked us to safety outside and onto the sidewalk. It was quite obvious he was afraid of that man and wanted to get away as quickly as possible. Or at least that’s how he acted.
…These clothes that I wear, for example, these clothes that you see me wearing, they are the clothes that I always wear. I mean, this particular costume—this shirt, these trousers—I have a closet that has nothing in it but more of these very same items. I swear to you—more washable trousers just like these, probably as many as ten more washable shirts just like this one that you see…
During that same walking tour with Gordon a carload of young fellows rode by and one of them yelled out Hey, Roy Rogers! Which we presumed was in reference to Gordon’s costume, that with the wide-brimmed Scout, or what is otherwise called, a Campaign hat. Gordon pretty much ignored the boys but they kept their loud jeers up for an entire city block before we turned the corner to again get away from another potential danger.
…But the fact remains that you—well, the bulk of you, anyhow, given that, yes, yes, of course, which of us has not noticed that certain ones among us have already made it their business to get up and head, not unnoisily, I might add, for the doors?—the fact nevertheless remains that the bulk of you have been sitting here with me for long enough to doubtless be considered as having earned for yourselves every dire sentence in my repertoire…
Given that Gordon had written this book sometime before I attended that first class in 1995, and the book had been published initially in 1991, it was a fact that I had already read it at least once if not twice before meeting him in the flesh in 1995. And let me tell you that first class was a doozy as each day Gordon spoke for ten hours or more without ever taking a potty break. The man can talk and keep your attention riveted on his speech and his bodily exertions put forth stationed at the head of the class. So when a paragraph like the one above has already been read perhaps twice, and years before ever meeting him, it is no wonder that I really wasn’t surprised at his agility with language and the manner in which he communicated to us. But to be clear the above text is not really a paragraph but actually a segment of one paragraph making up the entire book. We’re talking about one hundred plus pages of one single paragraph. And as Gordon would declare even today, and in no unequivocal terms, that a writer, even himself, has to have staying power. In other words, a writer has to stay hard. And the secret to how he could stand up there and teach and talk for ten hours was revealed to me years later in our personal relationship when he confessed to ingesting a little pill before each class, like a water pill, to keep him from having to use the bathroom and relieve himself. And that further adds credence to my previously quoted text of his …it occurs to me to say that there is nothing that we do that is not a trick of some sort. Depend upon it—that if people do it, there must be a pretty good trick to it…
…Well, I wanted to save my father. I sat there thinking, “Gordon, save your father.”…But, please believe me, I am not unalert to the fact that no few of you must be sitting out there thinking of all the details that I, for my part, had not made it my business to. The oil, for instance—the question of slippage. Besides, what forethought had I given to the actual job of taking hold of a man? Quite obviously, you have to stop and think for a minute—the man is in a chair. I mean, imagine it, if you will, a fellow like me trying to take hold of somebody around the middle and hoist him up from a chair. Not to mention the rest of it—end over end until, presto, here comes the other end…
What is rather amazing here is the effective manner in which Gordon Lish writes just four words on a calling card before heading up to the podium and then proceeds to compose on that stage a mesmerizing novel out of those four words, revising even them as he goes, emphasizing, repeating, circling, and finally landing on the end result of all his scrimping and saving and sacrificing, and for what? Well, a darn good story for one. Not to mention a pretty good laugh.
Thank you for the restack @The Rewind