Transcript:

I would say that, you know, the . . . the . . . that the various technologies beginning . . . or at least having a spiking point in the middle of the 19th Century with photography, and the telegraph, and the railroads which all came to be history in the same decade or two. But that really is a . . . is a set of forces. Sort of technological innovation and sort of capitalist . . . or I suppose non-capitalist exploitation of those technologies have led us to where we are today. Because to me, the Internet and television and all the rest – jet planes even – are just refinements on what was essentially invented between 1825 and 1850.

The . . . the technological innovations of . . . of the mid . . . right at the middle of the 19th Century that I mentioned – telegraph, photography, speed, steam engines, which I’ve . . . obviously steam engines came a little earlier, but got going in the ‘30s and ‘40s . . . 1930s and ‘40s – those . . . those . . . that moment, if you can call 20 years a moment . . . is hugely . . . hugely influential.

Transcript:

Well journalism faces a lot of challenges. I’m not sure that what are seen each day as the great challenges . . . the death of the newspaper, for instance, or it’s being supplanted by online media
. . . is the greatest challenge. I think . . . I think that trying to . . . that . . . that . . . there . . . there being a . . . a . . . a set of facts that we can all agree on is the great challenge of journalism, at least in the near median term – that journalism doesn’t entirely evolve to the left-wing version of facts, or the right-wing version of facts or the, you know, the Islamic version of facts, and the western version of facts. I mean there will always be the left, the right, the different cultures, different sensibilities who have their own little silo . . . journalistic silos of their version of the truth. And while we can never get back – I’m not sure we went to get back – to the pre-Internet, pre cable table version where there were three networks and New York Times, and they told us the truth from on high, I do think, and I do hope that we can maintain some . . . a shared sense of . . . of “here are the facts” and we here in some little place are engaged in a good faith search for the truth. You know the . . . the . . . “the truth” as a thing has . . . has . . . has gotten a kind of bad reputation from various sides by virtue of various critiques over the last 30 years. But I still . . . I still think that that is what needs to power and drive journalists. And . . . and I hope that the institutions that allowed that to happen in a robust way will figure out a way to maintain themselves, whether . . . by whatever economic model.

Recorded on: 7/5/2007 at The Aspen Ideas Festival

Transcript: "I think with Studio 360, because oddly . . . It’s very odd to me that there’s no other program like it; a general show about art and culture on radio and television that deals with, you know, everything from the Simpsons, to a Bill Viola work of art, to opera, to any bands . . . that sort of cultural panorama. That there is nothing else like that in America except what we’re doing is amazing to me, because you go to Europe and there are, you know, five shows like that only in the Netherlands. So I hope that, in small ways, it’s having an impact in terms of suggesting that there’s a kind of a cultural conversation to have that isn’t limited to one little niche in the culture, but regards the whole culture as a panorama with dots that can be connected among them."

Recorded on: 7/5/07 at the 2007 Aspen Ideas Festival

Transcript:

I would say that the impact in the 15 to 20 year retrospect that Spy magazine had is not insignificant; but it was part of a wave of . . . of kind of irony and satire that __________ sort of generational wave of baby boomers growing up that sort of softened the ground for all kinds of things; from _________ to the daily show that you see today in a kind of general satirical impulse online and elsewhere. So I think there was some . . . I can’t quantify it, and I can’t say Spy exactly led to this. But it seems clear to me that there was . . . that we were one of the entities that sort of, as I said, it softened up the ground for what became a kind of “satire explosion”, if you will, these days.

I think Spy magazine, not singlehandedly, but helped changed journalism. We were doing Spy the same time that ______, as a reporter at the Times, was starting to do political reporting with a real sharp edge and sense of humor. And other people were doing that as well. The . . . The David Letterman Show was brand new, and that sensibility began morphing into journalism as well. So I think to the degree that a kind of . . . to a lesser or a greater degree a bit of satirical sensibility.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

I remember . . . it wasn’t even an interview I was doing. It was a ________ run on the show. And it was about the . . . the connections between heavy metal music and . . . and sort of German music of the 19th Century. And there was a . . . And so of course we talked about Wagner. And so there was this moment. . . the way the piece was cut it went directly . . . it was cut directly from a piece of Wagner to a German heavy metal band . . . heavy metal band called Lonstein. And I just loved the idea of hundreds of thousands of public radio listeners all over America suddenly jumping out of their chairs when Wagner became heavy metal.

I like to think that the, you know, tens of thousands of people who are reading this . . . this novel that I’ve written about the middle of the 19th Century will actually have their . . . their brains permanently re-wired to think about the middle of the 19th Century in a different way as a result of having read this book. So that’s, you know . . . to the degree that that’s true . . . that’s a hugely gratifying, albeit small, impact.

Transcript:

But any kind of writing – non-fiction or fiction – is a struggle. It’s a very, you know, moment-to-moment struggle of figuring out the right . . . where the right sentence, the right paragraph, the right page, the right structure for the larger thing. And when you’re writing a book – my two novels have been 600 odd pages – that’s . . . there’s . . . that becomes an enormous structure to . . . to try to . . . to try to get as right as possible. So that’s . . . It’s a . . . It’s a pleasurable struggle when you’re done; but it is a struggle while it’s going on. I actually find the work of writing fiction less of a struggle, less of a stressful procedure than I do writing a 1,700 word essay. That to me is . . . the . . . the essay, or journalism really is sort of . . . is almost pure struggle. And then I’m only happy when I’m done. Whereas fiction actually . . . writing fiction has moments of . . . of pleasure amid the struggle while it’s going on.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

For fiction, the pleasure – the joy – is being god of my own little world. And creating this world and these characters. In this latest book, in the middle of the 19th Century, and while . . . as other fiction writers have said, they take on their own life and surprise one – the author – by doing things you didn’t expect. Still you are god. And . . . and . . . and so that’s hugely fun. And since I’m relatively a new writer and I’ve been dabbling . . . I’ve dabbled in fiction before the last 11 years, but I’ve only been publishing . . . And I still feel like, as I expect to feel for the rest of my life, that I’m still figuring it out; so that the joy of . . . of . . . of kind of, if not mastering, at least having good moments of figuring out how to do this . . . this thing that again, because of my childhood and my parents sort of worship of fiction – great novels – I feel as though, you know, it’s . . . if not the highest, best calling, at least one of them. And . . . and . . . and when I feel as though I can . . . I’ve gotten a line right, or a character, or a paragraph, or a chapter, I . . . that is ___________.

But any kind of writing – non-fiction or fiction – is a struggle. It’s a very, you know, moment-to-moment struggle of figuring out the right . . . where the right sentence, the right paragraph, the right page, the right structure for the larger thing. And when you’re writing a book – my two novels have been 600 odd pages – that’s . . . there’s . . . that becomes an enormous structure to . . . to try to . . . to try to get as right as possible. So that’s . . . It’s a . . . It’s a pleasurable struggle when you’re done; but it is a struggle while it’s going on. I actually find the work of writing fiction less of a struggle, less of a stressful procedure than I do writing a 1,700 word essay. That to me is . . . the . . . the essay, or journalism really is sort of . . . is almost pure struggle. And then I’m only happy when I’m done. Whereas fiction actually . . . writing fiction has moments of . . . of pleasure amid the struggle while it’s going on.

Transcript:

The joy I . . . the pleasures I get out of writing – of writing non-fiction, or writing essays, which is really what I do these days in journalism – is . . . is mostly a figuring out what I think. You know, I wrote a piece about trying to figure out what I think about the current nightmare debacle of Iraq in terms of what U.S. policy should be, and what the debate should be. And that’s such a, you know, complicated – just profoundly complicated – thing to figure out, for me anyway. That it was only through writing and thinking it through that I was able to begin to figure out what I really did think we should or shouldn’t do. Or how long, or when we should leave and all of those things. So I . . . I find . . . you know, I sometimes begin a piece like that with a basic sentence, but I often find that it is only . . . usually find that it is only through the writing that I get any clarity in my own mind.

For fiction, the pleasure – the joy – is being god of my own little world. And creating this world and these characters. In this latest book, in the middle of the 19th Century, and while . . . as other fiction writers have said, they take on their own life and surprise one – the author – by doing things you didn’t expect. Still you are god. And . . . and . . . and so that’s hugely fun. And since I’m relatively a new writer and I’ve been dabbling . . . I’ve dabbled in fiction before the last 11 years, but I’ve only been publishing . . . And I still feel like, as I expect to feel for the rest of my life, that I’m still figuring it out; so that the joy of . . . of . . . of kind of, if not mastering, at least having good moments of figuring out how to do this . . . this thing that again, because of my childhood and my parents sort of worship of fiction – great novels – I feel as though, you know, it’s . . . if not the highest, best calling, at least one of them. And . . . and . . . and when I feel as though I can . . . I’ve gotten a line right, or a character, or a paragraph, or a chapter, I . . . that is ___________.

But any kind of writing – non-fiction or fiction – is a struggle. It’s a very, you know, moment-to-moment struggle of figuring out the right . . . where the right sentence, the right paragraph, the right page, the right structure for the larger thing. And when you’re writing a book – my two novels have been 600 odd pages – that’s . . . there’s . . . that becomes an enormous structure to . . . to try to . . . to try to get as right as possible. So that’s . . . It’s a . . . It’s a pleasurable struggle when you’re done; but it is a struggle while it’s going on. I actually find the work of writing fiction less of a struggle, less of a stressful procedure than I do writing a 1,700 word essay. That to me is . . . the . . . the essay, or journalism really is sort of . . . is almost pure struggle. And then I’m only happy when I’m done. Whereas fiction actually . . . writing fiction has moments of . . . of pleasure amid the struggle while it’s going on.

Transcript:

The joy I . . . the pleasures I get out of writing – of writing non-fiction, or writing essays, which is really what I do these days in journalism – is . . . is mostly a figuring out what I think. You know, I wrote a piece about trying to figure out what I think about the current nightmare debacle of Iraq in terms of what U.S. policy should be, and what the debate should be. And that’s such a, you know, complicated – just profoundly complicated – thing to figure out, for me anyway. That it was only through writing and thinking it through that I was able to begin to figure out what I really did think we should or shouldn’t do. Or how long, or when we should leave and all of those things. So I . . . I find . . . you know, I sometimes begin a piece like that with a basic sentence, but I often find that it is only . . . usually find that it is only through the writing that I get any clarity in my own mind.

For fiction, the pleasure – the joy – is being god of my own little world. And creating this world and these characters. In this latest book, in the middle of the 19th Century, and while . . . as other fiction writers have said, they take on their own life and surprise one – the author – by doing things you didn’t expect. Still you are god. And . . . and . . . and so that’s hugely fun. And since I’m relatively a new writer and I’ve been dabbling . . . I’ve dabbled in fiction before the last 11 years, but I’ve only been publishing . . . And I still feel like, as I expect to feel for the rest of my life, that I’m still figuring it out; so that the joy of . . . of . . . of kind of, if not mastering, at least having good moments of figuring out how to do this . . . this thing that again, because of my childhood and my parents sort of worship of fiction – great novels – I feel as though, you know, it’s . . . if not the highest, best calling, at least one of them. And . . . and . . . and when I feel as though I can . . . I’ve gotten a line right, or a character, or a paragraph, or a chapter, I . . . that is ___________.

Transcript:

I think it shaped . . . I think . . . I think having grown up in Omaha – specifically Nebraska, the Midwest – has shaped me quite a bit. I think going from Omaha essentially to the east – and New York, specifically – put me in a kind of . . . made me feel a little bit like a permanent outsider. If not an outsider, at least somebody who could see the . . . the strangeness, and magnificence, and ugliness and . . . of New York with a certain amount of awe that hasn’t quite left me. I think also there is a cliché – but like most clichés a true one – that there’s this thing in the Midwest of . . . which amounts to a kind of enforced humility. Sometimes a mock humility, but the nevertheless a sense of . . . of you can’t . . . you shouldn’t toot your own horn too much. And I think that has stuck with me. And then of course the particulars of my parents and . . . and my family background entirely apart from the Midwest – or Omaha particularly – has had a dramatic influence on my life.

Transcript:...it’s too preachy to . . . for me to suggest what everybody should be asking ourselves. What I ask myself increasingly as I get closer to the end of my life than the beginning, is the sense of what do I want to do in these minutes and hours and days remaining to bring pleasure, joy, excitement, entertainment, illumination into the world? And . . . and . . . and everybody . . . you know . . . which is a decent . . . or love, if you will, which is a decent thing for everybody to be asking themselves. But when you’re 52 as opposed to 32, the ticking clock of “the end” is louder. And therefore I think that the question needs to be asked more squarely and more ______ to one’s self about . . . not every hour, not every day necessarily, but regularly, how are you . . . if not . . . how are you making your little corner of the world a more civilized, decent, interesting place?

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

I think collectively in the larger sense, I think that it is important to figure out a kind of a version of healthcare delivery that is more like the rest of the world and less like the way we do it. I think that’s an important collective thing to do. I . . . I think . . . I would say maybe that’s the single most important thing we can do collectively.

Individually, again, I think people need to . . . to see in their daily lives to try to act correctly. I mean in the obvious ways. That could mean turning off your lights, using the little other fluorescent bulbs, driving cars that get better mileage. And I don’t disparage any of those because I try to do all those, and those are good. But I mean just in . . . in . . . in acts with individuals not being niggardly, and not being . . . not dissembling and being honest. And . . . and . . . and I think . . . I mean it’s like a parental exhortation, but I think once you get into the habit of honesty and kindness on those individual levels with your co-workers, and your children, and your spouse and everybody else, I think not only do those billions of acts add up into a better society, culture, or world, but they also train one for that time that may come when you’re asked to do the right thing in a big, character-defining way. You’re more inclined to do it if . . . if along the way you’ve . . . you’ve . . . you’ve done the right thing in all these small, boring, banal _________.

Transcript:

I am . . . oh, I am . . . it depends on the day how optimistic or pessimistic I am.  I’m never . . . I never . . . I never find myself being erratically pessimistic or erratically optimistic.  I find myself going, you know, up to 55%, 56% one way or the other.  So my needle sort of stays, you know, pretty close to, you know, the glass is both half full and half empty all the time.  And . . . and . . . and that can be affected by, you know, how many people were blown up in Baghdad today or any number of things.  But I think . . . I think . . . and certainly in the near term, there’s not much cause for optimism.  Having just written a book set 150 years ago which inclined me toward the long view, when I take the long view I can at least kind of grapple towards some . . . some more hopeful version of the next 100 years.

I think this age will be remembered as a time of . . . of . . . historically as . . . at least as far as the United States is concerned, as a time of tremendous confusion and squandered opportunity in the

. . . in the now 15 years after the end of the Cold War.  And . . . and as a . . . as a kind of _______ today, roaring 20s time of . . . of . . . of a kind of acceptance.  A kind of bland acceptance of, you know, pretty grotesque examples of economic inequality.  So is that cheery enough for you?

Transcript:

I read pretty much every word on Iraq and the Middle East just to . . . in order to impress myself, I suppose.  But I think . . . I think the . . . the apparently intractable set of issues involved in all of those countries, and what the United States can or can’t do, or ought/ought not to do in those are hugely important, and . . . and . . . and have ramifications in terms of almost every other realm of. . . of issue.  I mean you can say, “Oh!  How the _______ of the world gonna together and solve global warming is big.”  And it is a big issue; but how are we . . . how are we managed or . . . or managed the messes and opportunities – scarce as though they are in the Middle East – and reestablish our . . . the United States as a . . . as a force for constructive engagement and change in the world will affect how well we can or can’t, or how quickly we will or won’t, begin to deal with climate change issues.  So to me . . . I mean I get the climate change sort of ________; but to me the Middle East is . . . is to me the . . . the issue . . . the set of issues that . . . and wars . . . and history in the making that I find most troubling and fascinating.

 I guess . . .  I mean the biggest challenges for the world very specifically in the next 10 to 20 years involve probably a nuclear proliferation actually.  I would say if . . . if you had to really get down to a . . . to a concrete example, that’s it.  Or we could say, “Oh, multilateral engagement blahbety, blahbety, blah,” but it’s . . . it’s trying to keep nuclear weapons out of the hands of crazy people, bad people, irresponsible people, I think is our great challenge.

Presidential elections are complicated things.  And we can reduce them to issues like how . . . what the United States’ role in Iraq and around Iraq should be in 2009, 2010, and 2011.  And I think that’s a huge issue that is not being that much talked about because the . . . the Iraq question is mostly divulged to a kind of easy, pollster question of, “Out now or stay the course?” essentially.  And . . . and . . . and very few people actually believe in either of those.  And so given only those two choices, it’s a false choice and have to choose one.  But I think most people actually forced to consider understand that . . . that neither of those options is likely or probably good, and therefore . . . okay.  We know this has been a mess.  We know this has been egregiously mismanaged; but what happens in 2009, 2010?  So I think that is an issue that these candidates need to talk . . . need to discuss very specifically, and with some intellectual honesty.

I would say the . . . the Constitutional questions that are being addressed pretty acutely in this term of the Supreme Court . . . that what do we as a nation do we think is right, and do we think the Constitution says about affirmative action, and freedom of speech, and rights to privacy and all those things?  Political . . . presidential candidates can easily pump that one by saying, “Oh no!  It’s at the Supreme Court.”  Or by saying, if they’re a Democrat, “Oh we’ll fill the new vacancies in the court with people who agree with us,” which is a reasonable response.  But I think that conversation is an important conversation beyond the . . . the single issue versions of it – should Roe v. Wade be upheld or overturned or whatever.  But presidential elections are a funny thing because we are voting not really about a particular issue.  We are voting about our sense of these people and whether or not they would be competent, inspiring . . . people we want to be blabbing in our living rooms every day and every night.  And so I think focusing on the issues, you know, in a . . . in a . . . in a kind of college syllabus or newspaper headline way is only half the story.  I think . . . I think for better or worse, presidential elections – and this one in particular – is going to be about the measure of these people.  And . . . which is a hard thing to talk about.  It’s much easier to be able to say, “Okay, the environment.  Okay, healthcare.”  By the way, healthcare, I think that’s going to be, must be, and will be a huge issue that needs to be discussed.  And I do think . . . and I do feel as though we’ve reached a point in the debate, in the national mood with a sense of how dysfunctional our healthcare system is; that that actually will be a focus of maybe throughout the debate ___________.

Transcript:

Well I think . . . I think that the French . . . the first French Revolution that happened in 1789 had a pretty profound impact in terms of a specific moment.  If you go back to the Renaissance as a set of moments; but I’m not sure there was a . . . necessarily a particular moment that brought us to where we are today.  Although you could say the discovery of the ability to depict perspective in painting is a pretty significant one.  And all the optical innovations that came around the same time.  I . . . The . . . the technological innovations of . . . of the mid . . . right at the middle of the 19th Century that I mentioned – telegraph, photography, speed, steam engines, which I’ve . . . obviously steam engines came a little earlier, but got going in the ‘30s and ‘40s . . . 1930s and ‘40s – those . . . those . . . that moment, if you can call 20 years a moment . . . is hugely . . . hugely influential.  I think you have to say that . . . that . . . that the American Revolution as a particular event was hugely significant.  The world would be very different had the United States of America not come into existence.  In Canada, because I can hear your Canadian accent, I think.  I mean North America.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

I don’t think of myself as having a personal philosophy.  I suppose I do, even though I couldn’t say it’s utilitarian, or Buddhist, or any other . . .  I don’t have a word for it or a set of words.  I guess I find . . .  I find that I am mistrustful and temperamentally – almost instinctively mistrustful – of ideological thinking, which I suppose is a form of ideology in itself.  But nevertheless, people who . . . who have . . . who . . . who believe they understand the way the world works – religious ideology, political ideology, any kind of ideology . . . and then pursue life as a means of fulfilling that pre-existing set of understandings.  Whatever the . . . the antithesis of that is, that’s my philosophy I guess.  Which is a kind of, you know, empirical, flexible sense of life.  I . . . and I find myself going back and forth, depending on the circumstance – depending on the day, practically, depending on the issue we’re talking about – of feeling conservative, or progressive, or feeling as though it’ll all work out in the end or it won’t.  But so I can’t sum . . . sum that up except as a . . . as a . . . I would say a kind of skepticism that doesn’t tip over into cynicism; an empiricism that isn’t without heart.  I can give you more lines like that, but that would sort of get at the edges of my philosophy.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

Inspires me.  I would say any time I come across – either in person or in reading about – you know, an act of . . . of courage.  Not an unusual or necessarily physical courage – sometimes that – but moral courage, intellectual courage.  That . . . those always inspire me.  And it doesn’t need to be as dramatic as a journalist in Zimbabwe who, at the risk of his life and limb – or her life and limb – tells the truth; but that’s an example.  But it can be smaller and more banal than that.  But those . . . those . . . those things are what inspires me.  I mean I am . . . I . . . I will see a work of art.  I mentioned Bill Viola.  Some of Bill Viola’s video work, I wouldn’t say inspires me, but I am left awestruck and full of sort of a . . . a . . . questions about existence and perception and all kinds of things as a result of experiencing various works of art.  The same is true of fiction, films, all kinds of things.  But . . . and so I am often amazed and inspired by the . . . the . . . the skill and luck of those creators; but in terms of how I _______ inspired, it is really the . . . the . . . you know.  I would say the most common way in which I feel inspired and I try to remind myself to do the right thing is when people behave courageously.

My creative process . . . depending . . . it depends on what I’m doing.  To the degree my life now is divided among working alone in a room, essentially, writing fiction or writing essays, it’s a matter of . . . of doing whatever research is necessary and then just being at home with all of whatever facts there are, notes, thoughts, stray . . . stray bits . . . and letting that marinate until I can figure out a way that it looks interesting, or enlightening, or entertaining to write a page.  So I don’t have a . . . but it . . . but it requires for me . . . it requires to do what I consider good writing to be alone in a room for, you know, a few hours at a time.  And then whatever alchemy happens, happens.   But then the other half of my creative life, which is doing Studio 360 as well as doing magazines – editing magazines in the past – is this entire collaborative process, entirely or significantly and vastly different from the creative process of writing, which is about finding a team of people with whom you’re comfortable, but not identical; and being open to all of the various ideas and approaches that that team brings.  And if you’re a leader of the team, trying to. . . to inspire those people to do good work and . . . and . . . and keep a vision of what it is you’re trying to do collaboratively so that it’s not just a collection of 10 different people doing 10 different things, but all fits into the . . . into the large vision.  And so as I said those are very different.  I get satisfaction out of both, and . . . and very happy that I . . .  Literally my days are divided between those two forms of creative process.  So you know, by the time I’m done doing a radio program, and all the meetings, and conversations, and all the back and forth that that requires, I’m very happy to be . . . the next morning, to go back in my room and spend five hours alone.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

Oh, you know, some . . . in . . . in terms of what one is doing now, it’s hard to . . . and . . . and . . . it’s hard to remain humble and say, “Here’s the impact it’s having.”  I . . . I would say that the impact in the 15 to 20 year retrospect that Spy magazine had is not insignificant; but it was part of a wave of . . . of kind of irony and satire that __________ sort of generational wave of baby boomers growing up that sort of softened the ground for all kinds of things; from _________ to the daily show that you see today in a kind of general satirical impulse online and elsewhere.  So I think there was some . . . I can’t quantify it, and I can’t say Spy exactly led to this.  But it seems clear to me that there was . . . that we were one of the entities that sort of, as I said, it softened up the ground for what became a kind of “satire explosion”, if you will, these days.  I think with Studio 360, because oddly . . .  It’s very odd to me that there’s no other program like it; a general show about art and culture on radio and television that deals with, you know, everything from the Simpsons, to a Bill Viola work of art, to opera, to any bands . . . that sort of cultural panorama.  That there is nothing else like that in America except what we’re doing is amazing to me, because you go to Europe and there are, you know, five shows like that only in the Netherlands.  So I hope that, in small ways, it’s having an impact in terms of suggesting that there’s a kind of a cultural conversation to have that isn’t limited to one little niche in the culture, but regards the whole culture as a panorama with dots that can be connected among them.  So you know, as I said, in small ways that’s an impact.  And then again, I mean to suggest that novels can really have an impact is hubris; however I probably wouldn’t right if I didn’t have some hubris.  So I like to think that the, you know, tens of thousands of people who are reading this . . . this novel that I’ve written about the middle of the 19th Century will actually have their . . . their brains permanently re-wired to think about the middle of the 19th Century in a different way as a result of having read this book.  So that’s, you know . . . to the degree that that’s true . . . that’s a hugely gratifying, albeit small, impact.

 I think Spy magazine, not singlehandedly, but helped changed journalism.  We were doing Spy the same time that ______, as a reporter at the Times, was starting to do political reporting with a real sharp edge and sense of humor.  And other people were doing that as well.  The . . . The David Letterman Show was brand new, and that sensibility began morphing into journalism as well.  So I think to the degree that a kind of . . . to a lesser or a greater degree a bit of satirical sensibility.  And _______ journalism, I think I’m partly responsible for that.  In terms of magazines, we . . . we . . . we worked really hard.  There was . . . There were hundreds of hours of . . . of man and woman labor devoted to each page of that magazine.  And so I think just on that level we sort of set the bar high for what magazines could be.  You know, and as I’ve . . . as I write columns and so on, you know, I can’t say that they changed journalism at all; but trying to make sure that each thousand words or two thousand words that I put into the journalistic ________ are things that I would admire, and that I would be provoked by, and that I would find interesting and smart, it’s the best I can do.  And, you know, I can’t say that . . . they’ve . . .  I can’t point to an impact.  I guess that’s for my survivors and people a hundred years from now to determine.

 Well . . . I would say my proudest achievements are my . . . my extremely happy and – seeming – and intelligent, kind children.  Co-production with my wife.  I would say that I’ve managed to . . . to have a reasonably happy . . . more than reasonably happy . . . that I’ve managed to have a happy marriage or 25 years is an achievement.  And I think the creation of Spy magazine I’m proud of.  Very proud of.  And . . . and . . . and I would say these two novels I’m written, I’m proud of.  So. . . it’s a half a dozen proud achievements.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

 I . . .  I say “writer”.  I mean writer is what is says on my passport.  Even for the ten years I was a magazine editor, I didn’t change my occupational listing on the passport.  So “writer” is it.  I mean, in my . . .  I’ve been writing novels and fiction for the last 10 or 11 years.  I sometimes say “novelist”.  But even that – and maybe this is my Midwestern ________ coming out – sounds almost too pretentious to say.  But novelist, radio host.

Different . . . very different joy from me for the different things I do.  The joy of building a radio program, Studio 360, is simply having an idea for a theme we can work on the show and . . . and . . . and with my producers and my team of people, seeing that come into bloom. But just very selfishly, that I can say, “Oh. . . .”  I did write as the Iraq war was beginning, I said, “Let’s do a show about war.”  You know, from classical antiquity to now, and how it’s contributed in literature and film and art.  “And let’s get Susan Sontag.  I’ve never met her.  Let’s get Susan Sontag on the program.”  And I did.  And we did.  So . . . and it was amazing.  So the fact that I can . . .  And again, every week I get to talk to, you know, Ben Kingsley or ________ or Norman Mailer or whomever.  And . . . and that is the great joy, to spend an hour with those kinds of people and . . . and be able to ask them pertinent questions about how they do what they do.  And even better than my life in journalism before the radio show began, which was only seven years ago, I don’t have to do any of the work after I talk to them.  The producers do that.  So I can . . . I just get the pure fun of seeing the films, listening to music, reading the books and then talking to them.  And then I’m done.  So it’s . . . it’s unbelievably joyful.

The joy I . . . the pleasures I get out of writing – of writing non-fiction, or writing essays, which is really what I do these days in journalism – is . . . is mostly a figuring out what I think.  You know, I wrote a piece about trying to figure out what I think about the current nightmare debacle of Iraq in terms of what U.S. policy should be, and what the debate should be.  And that’s such a, you know, complicated – just profoundly complicated – thing to figure out, for me anyway.  That it was only through writing and thinking it through that I was able to begin to figure out what I really did think we should or shouldn’t do.  Or how long, or when we should leave and all of those things.  So I . . . I find . . . you know, I sometimes begin a piece like that with a basic sentence, but I often find that it is only . . . usually find that it is only through the writing that I get any clarity in my own mind.

For fiction, the pleasure – the joy – is being god of my own little world.  And creating this world and these characters.  In this latest book, in the middle of the 19th Century, and while . . . as other fiction writers have said, they take on their own life and surprise one – the author – by doing things you didn’t expect.  Still you are god.  And . . . and . . . and so that’s hugely fun.  And since I’m relatively a new writer and I’ve been dabbling . . .  I’ve dabbled in fiction before the last 11 years, but I’ve only been publishing . . .  And I still feel like, as I expect to feel for the rest of my life, that I’m still figuring it out; so that the joy of . . . of . . . of kind of, if not mastering, at least having good moments of figuring out how to do this . . . this thing that again, because of my childhood and my parents sort of worship of fiction – great novels – I feel as though, you know, it’s . . . if not the highest, best calling, at least one of them.  And . . . and . . . and when I feel as though I can . . . I’ve gotten a line right, or a character, or a paragraph, or a chapter, I . . . that is ___________.

It’s . . . Well I . . . I was gonna say it’s all struggle in what I do.  But I mean there’s very little struggle in what I do on the radio.  It is . . .  It is a kind of unfairly pleasurable experience because the . . . the people I work with do most of the heavy lifting, and I just get to talk to brilliant people.  But any kind of writing – non-fiction or fiction – is a struggle.  It’s a very, you know, moment-to-moment struggle of figuring out the right . . . where the right sentence, the right paragraph, the right page, the right structure for the larger thing.  And when you’re writing a book – my two novels have been 600 odd pages – that’s . . . there’s . . . that becomes an enormous structure to . . . to try to . . . to try to get as right as possible.  So that’s . . . It’s a . . .  It’s a pleasurable struggle when you’re done; but it is a struggle while it’s going on.  I actually find the work of writing fiction less of a struggle, less of a stressful procedure than I do writing a 1,700 word essay.  That to me is . . . the . . . the essay, or journalism really is sort of . . . is almost pure struggle.  And then I’m only happy when I’m done.  Whereas fiction actually . . . writing fiction has moments of . . . of pleasure amid the struggle while it’s going on.

Uh . . . It depends.  It’s hard to say what I’m best known for.  I meet people who say, “Oh, I love your radio show.”  I meet people who say, “I loved Spy magazine”, which is a magazine I started 20 years ago.  Or people who say, “I love your novel.”  So . . . or, “Your work in your magazine. . .”  So best known for?  It may be . . . It’s a . . .  It would be . . . It would be best known . . . What I am known by the most people for, probably it’s a sort of a tie between . . . maybe it’s close to a three-way tie at this point between writing novels, doing this radio program and having started Spy magazine.

 I . . . I find that . . . I mean I think one of the reasons I found a pleasant life in journalism is . . . is a . . . I have . . . I’m born with or I was raised with a kind of pretty voracious curiosity.  So . . . and I get . . . and I can also get bored easily.  So . . . so . . . and I think that those are probably essential qualities for a journalist or any kind of writer, maybe.  I . . . and . . . and I think also trying to do something I haven’t done but think I might be able to do is . . . is something that drives me.  And if . . . when I’ve gotten opportunities to do things I haven’t done before and the opportunity looks fun, I . . .  I’ve . . . I’ve taken advantage of it; in the case of writing about politics and crime for Time magazine to being an architecture critic, that was partly a matter of . . .  I went to Time thinking, “Oh, please let me be a culture writer.”  That’s what I want to do.  And they said, “Kid.  Pay your dues writing about politics and crime.” And I did happily.  And they sort of said, “Alright.  You paid your dues.”  But in general, again, there was no plan of action in the beginning.  But when I look back at the things that I’ve done now, it’s really about sort of giving _______ to my . . . my . . . my curiosity, my sense of wanting to . . . to . . . to try something new, to be challenged by something new.  And being very lucky again and again at having that opportunity.

Recorded On: 7/5/07

Transcript:

Kurt Andersen

I think having grown up in Omaha – specifically Nebraska, the Midwest – has shaped me quite a bit.  I think going from Omaha essentially to the east – and New York, specifically – put me in a kind of . . . made me feel a little bit like a permanent outsider.  If not an outsider, at least somebody who could see the . . . the strangeness, and magnificence, and ugliness and . . . of New York with a certain amount of awe that hasn’t quite left me.  I think also there is a cliché – but like most clichés a true one – that there’s this thing in the Midwest of . . . which amounts to a kind of enforced humility.  Sometimes a mock humility, but the nevertheless a sense of . . . of you can’t . . . you shouldn’t toot your own horn too much.  And I think that has stuck with me.  And then of course the particulars of my parents and . . . and my family background entirely apart from the Midwest – or Omaha particularly – has had a dramatic influence on my life.

I grew up in a household with lots of books just around, and with lots of music being played around; and with a sense that . . . my parents went to the theater . . . the local community theater.  So the sense that . . . of . . . of . . . that there was a culture out there beyond what was on television was extremely important and . . . and sort of to the degree I’ve made a life and a culture in _________.  Those were important.  So I . . .  And in particular my mother; I mean, but both of my parents.  I don’t want to undersell my father’s influence. But my mother, who was kind of an amateur Willa Cather scholar, and just a voracious reader, and somebody who kind of . . . they both, my parents, sort of privileged books and reading very highly.  So I was sort of hard wired with that same sense very early on.

 Not really a pivotal moment in my child . . .  There were . . . there were . . . there were moments that could have gone wrong.  So that . . . I sort of avoided the negative pivotal moments, if you will.  But there wasn’t a moment where I suddenly thought, “Aha! I understand. I should be decent and civilized to people.”  Or, “I should read . . .” No.  It was . . . it was . . . it was a boringly untroubled childhood, so there was no pivotal moment.  It was . . . It was . . . it was pleasant and without much in the way of epiphany.

I had the . . . the . . . the various kind of random thoughts that children have.  I thought . . . I was told by my parents once that radiologists . . . what a radiologist was, and that it was just a matter of looking at x-rays.  And I thought that sounded good.  But I guess I thought I might be a scientist of some sort as a little kid.  But it wasn’t until . . .  I began writing in the school newspaper and things like that when I was in junior high school.  And I guess I probably began imagining that I could have a life as a writer.  But when I left Omaha for college, I thought . . . I imagined that I would be some kind of academic.  It wasn’t until I . . . I got to an academic environment until I realized, “I don’t think so.”  And indeed the fact that I could write . . . that my professors and teachers at college thought I wrote well made me think, “Well then, maybe I could write.”