COLUMNS
Talk Show 14 with Elisa Albert, Anita Diamant, Michael Lowenthal & Jim Shepard
/ Jaime Clarke
06.02.08
––How has your relationship to the trauma changed over the years?
Albert: Now I understand that women are routinely and commonly murdered by their boyfriends/ex-boyfriends/husbands/ex-husbands, so that’s not a shocker anymore. And as for River and Cobain, they’ve both been deified pretty thoroughly, so it’s hard to imagine them living on as mere mortals. And since I’m an adult now, these tabloid horrors can seem a mite trivial. Compared to, say, GWB’s stealing the f**king election. For example.
Diamant: "Crisis mode" is long past in North America. I have another cousin who is HIV-positive and has been for many years; he is healthy and thriving. The AIDS crisis rages in Africa and other parts of the world; when I read about it, I recall the sense of despair engendered by all of those death announcements in the newspaper; the ones that you had to interpret to figure out if they were from AIDS or not, and then, later, the ones that clearly stated HIV/AIDS as the cause of death. Every now and then I experience a sort of "phantom limb" phenomenon, when a name is mentioned––a choreographer, a writer, a composer, a friend's deceased lover: they should be here and they are not. We have no idea, really, what was lost. What might have been saved had the response been quicker, more compassionate, more appropriate to the threat. I suppose I'm still angry about that. But I am also grateful for and proud of the courage and conviction of everyone––gay and straight––who fought so hard to save lives and to challenge misunderstanding of and bigotry based on sexual identity.
Lowenthal: I remain battered, and wonder if my faith will ever be restored. In 2000, I allowed myself to believe that Bush's election was a fluke. Now, after having lived through 2004, I think I'll consider a Democratic victory (if there is one) to be the fluke. I'll accept it, and happily, but I won't make the mistake of thinking it betokens any kind of turn toward the better by, or smartening up of, my fellow Americans. I've become entrenched in my alienation. I recently applied for German citizenship, wanting an "out" in case our country continues to devolve. How ironic that Germany, the country from which my grandparents fled in 1939 (and from which other relatives were unable to flee), looms now as a possible haven.
Shepard: I'm certainly, for better and for worse, now more likely to expect it.
Jaime Clarke is the author of the novel WE’RE SO FAMOUS, editor of DON’T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME: CONTEMPORARY WRITERS ON THE FILMS OF JOHN HUGHES, and co-founder of POST ROAD, a national literary magazine based out of New York and Boston.
Albert: Now I understand that women are routinely and commonly murdered by their boyfriends/ex-boyfriends/husbands/ex-husbands, so that’s not a shocker anymore. And as for River and Cobain, they’ve both been deified pretty thoroughly, so it’s hard to imagine them living on as mere mortals. And since I’m an adult now, these tabloid horrors can seem a mite trivial. Compared to, say, GWB’s stealing the f**king election. For example.
Diamant: "Crisis mode" is long past in North America. I have another cousin who is HIV-positive and has been for many years; he is healthy and thriving. The AIDS crisis rages in Africa and other parts of the world; when I read about it, I recall the sense of despair engendered by all of those death announcements in the newspaper; the ones that you had to interpret to figure out if they were from AIDS or not, and then, later, the ones that clearly stated HIV/AIDS as the cause of death. Every now and then I experience a sort of "phantom limb" phenomenon, when a name is mentioned––a choreographer, a writer, a composer, a friend's deceased lover: they should be here and they are not. We have no idea, really, what was lost. What might have been saved had the response been quicker, more compassionate, more appropriate to the threat. I suppose I'm still angry about that. But I am also grateful for and proud of the courage and conviction of everyone––gay and straight––who fought so hard to save lives and to challenge misunderstanding of and bigotry based on sexual identity.
Lowenthal: I remain battered, and wonder if my faith will ever be restored. In 2000, I allowed myself to believe that Bush's election was a fluke. Now, after having lived through 2004, I think I'll consider a Democratic victory (if there is one) to be the fluke. I'll accept it, and happily, but I won't make the mistake of thinking it betokens any kind of turn toward the better by, or smartening up of, my fellow Americans. I've become entrenched in my alienation. I recently applied for German citizenship, wanting an "out" in case our country continues to devolve. How ironic that Germany, the country from which my grandparents fled in 1939 (and from which other relatives were unable to flee), looms now as a possible haven.
Shepard: I'm certainly, for better and for worse, now more likely to expect it.
Jaime Clarke is the author of the novel WE’RE SO FAMOUS, editor of DON’T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME: CONTEMPORARY WRITERS ON THE FILMS OF JOHN HUGHES, and co-founder of POST ROAD, a national literary magazine based out of New York and Boston.