formula writers. I think it’s essentially dishonest,
but so is the circus, so is the Hall of Mirrors. And
one of the things that I think happens to you
when you are involved in that level of lazy writing
is that you know what you’re giving, and they
know what they’re getting. And I don’t think that
is a lack of trust. If I pick up a Frank Yerby, it’s
my fault. I’m not picking on Yerby, but it is,
because I know exactly what he’s going to do;
What does the song say, ‘‘you knew I was a snake
when you brought me in’’? I knew that. I hap-
pened to like Jacqueline Susann when I’m doing
junk-like reading. I can pick up a Jackie Susann
and know exactly what I’m going to get. I don’t
feel misused.
I think that is true of all of us. You kind of
know what you’re getting when you pick up a
certain level of book. What I do have a serious
problem with, though, is your basic plagiarism,
because that is actually taking someone else’s
work and putting it off as yours. What we are
saying here is that, if I’m Steven King, ninety
percent of my writing is going to be macabre.
Take it or leave it. I’m sure that he considers that
he writes as honestly and as well as any of the rest
of us. As a matter of fact, he has a lot more
money to show for it. What I’m saying is, I
don’t think that’s your basic rapes, because it’s
Steven King. You might say that someone was
unaware that all his books are just alike. But that
is very, very hard to do. That is like saying I
didn’t learn anything from ‘‘LaVerne & Shirley’’
this week; I’m disappointed. You know damn
well you are not going to learn anything from
‘‘LaVerne & Shirley’’ or whatever it is that you’re
doing on TV. That is not to say that all of tele-
vision is a waste. It’s just that you know if you
turn on TV, seven to ten, you’re going to get
mostly crop, unless it’s Thursday night and
there is a show called ‘‘Fame,’’ which somehow
or another is surviving; which makes my Thurs-
day. It’s a great little show. I’m just saying,
you’ve got to know that, and I don’t think
that’s the same level as your basic lie.
There is a distinction.
Sure. It’s like your professor who reads the
same notes every year. He’s not lying. He says,
‘‘this is, for the level of energy that I’m willing to
invest in this class, what you need to know. And
if my notes have not changed in 5 years, that is
not my problem. My subject hasn’t changed, or
at least it hasn’t involved me.’’ But that is not a
lie. That’s not the guy who stands in the lab and
manufactures results that he knows never came
up. Sure. You get into that, and I think that has
to be dealt with much more stringently. A pro-
fessor of medieval poetry might be dull, but he’s
not lying.
It seems as if a very mysterious relationship
exists between the reader and the writer, which is
one, frequently, and I think, charmingly, of awe;
that this person has the ability to use language that
makes me put down my $15 or makes me take that
book out of the library. And there is a love that
develops there, because that person has that power
over you, and trust, because any time you love, you
want to trust.
I think that what essentially makes art
so potentially dangerous is that it is totally
egalitarian.
Explain that a little more.
Well, the term you use is ‘‘power,’’ that the
person has power over you. I don’t think so. As a
matter of fact, the writer is totally vulnerable to
people that we shall never see. We sit someplace
and create something, or explain something,
research, and develop certain ideas. We convince
a publisher to publish it, or a museum to hang it,
or a producer to put it on Broadway, and we are
subject to the judgment of people who never
even knew us. We could have been dead 800
years before somebody discovered us.
Last year, here in Cincinnati, last Septem-
ber, October, and I think a little bit in Novem-
ber, I did a program. I don’t know really how to
express it, but I was invited, and I went to a
number of elementary schools here in Cincin-
nati. And the thing that surprised the kids was
that I was alive. It may sound strange, but that
was the biggest thing, and when you think about
how many dead authors we read, it was really
not unusual. Just last night, I was at Morehead
State. Even going there, people are really look-
ing at you like, ‘‘she’s really alive,’’ and it’s kind
of strange. And, again, I think that the danger-
ous position is that we recognize not our power
but people’s power for themselves. The same
way that I can sit here and decide whether or
not Sy Hirsch, for Christ’s sake, has written a
creditable piece on Kissinger. That is a level of
egalitarianism that most people don’t have.
Most people don’t have to be bothered with
that. Sy Hirsch should not have to worry about
what some poet in Cincinnati thinks about his
work. And I’m not saying that he does. I am just
saying that I can make that judgment.Winter