JOHN JEREMIAH SULLIVANTHE BOOKEVENTS

PULPHEAD NOTES

Sentences from John Jeremiah Sullivan's book Pulphead. Photography from the book tour.
  • March 6, 2012 12:00 pm

    "I write about non-fiction alternate histories, moments of possibility that got squashed. That’s what my next book is about. It’s about a guy who showed up in South Carolina in 1735 and basically looked around and said, “You know this thing you’re doing, of decimating the Indians and enslaving Africans on a mass scale while alienating a poor-white underclass? It’s a terrible idea!"

    — John Jeremiah Sullivan, in an interview with Critical Mob

  • March 2, 2012 9:41 am
  • March 1, 2012 11:51 am

    Reality TV and The Novel

    Q. Nabokov describes the term “reality” as “one of the few words which mean nothing without quotes.” In “Getting Down to What Is Really Real,” you seem as much appalled by “Reality TV” as you are fascinated by it. Can you talk about its complicated allure? Why do you think it’s become so popular?

    John Jeremiah Sullivan: Seven or the eight years ago, the genre started expanding—to the point where now you’d be hard-pressed to find an aspect of American life it hasn’t touched—and there came a point when you started to feel that for some people, in some people’s minds, it was actually messing with reality. The boundaries were mingling. This was years before you had a spectacle like, a recent Republican VP candidate getting her own reality show, but you could feel that coming. It’s the feeling I was interested in and tried to write about. Genres can do this thing sometimes of giving us frames to shape our lives in, to make sense of them. The novel did that for a couple of hundred years. These shows are doing it now for a lot of Americans. That’s probably not good.

    (Read the rest of the interview at Critical Mob.)

  • February 14, 2012 7:27 am

    "That’s just a story we’re telling ourselves because we’re rich and bored from the Irish point of view, and that’s exactly how I would feel if I were Irish. At the same time do you really want to foreclose on the possibility that cultures might be transmitted across generations and that there might be something in tapping into that? I’ve been a passionate reader of Irish literature over my life, and I’d like to think that I read it more intensely because I felt as if I had some stock in it."

    A Brief Q&A with John Jeremiah Sullivan by the New York Times 6th Floor Blog

  • February 10, 2012 10:27 am

    An Interview in the L.A. Review of Books

    Q. Much of your writing focuses on music. In one interview, you pointed to an early interest in music writing as the locus of your desire to “figure out” good writing.

    Yeah. Actually, my brother was a big influence here. He was the first person I ever heard talk about a piece of art in a deeply critical way — critical not in the negative, but in the analytical sense. He was just a student of pop music from an early age. I don’t know what tripped that in him, but it was his thing. We would sit down and go through Beatles chord books together. It wasn’t just a case of rocking back and forth in front of the speaker and saying, “Isn’t this brilliant.” It was saying, “Look at this fucking bridge, look at what they did here. That’s why this is so much better”: the mechanics of it. And he and I would argue a lot. He was an early opponent. So, yes, I definitely think I was delving into and parsing music before writing, at least on a conscious level.

    Read On

  • December 14, 2011 10:01 am

    The Editor and the Writer


    Q. You were an editor for about ten years before you started writing professionally. Do you feel being an editor has generally helped or hindered your writing process?

    It helps up to a certain point. As an editor, you’re learning the whole time — learning tricks, acquiring tools. You’re getting to watch writers that are much better than you work on their pieces at the workshop level. So you could ask, “Why did you take out that comma?” “Why did you cut that page?” “I don’t just want to know that you did it; I want to know why you did it. What was influencing the mechanism at the moment that caused you to think that this thing wasn’t working or that it needed to be better?” That was my education.

    But there does come a point where you have to make this mental decision to shut off the editing instinct; otherwise, you can’t exist as a writer; the writer is a little antagonistic with that voice. You go to write one sentence and can instantly think of five good reasons why it shouldn’t be like that, but that’s not the way writing works; you’re saying something because you have to say it. A good writer is not necessarily best buddies with the editor — that’s your playing partner, you’re trying to beat that person. It took me a while to figure that out. I’m still not sure I’ve totally figured it out.

  • November 14, 2011 3:59 pm

    Tension

    Interviewer: What is your ideal length to write?

    John Jeremiah Sullivan: There is no ideal length, but you develop a little interior gauge that tells you whether or not you’re supporting the house or detracting from it. When a piece gets too long, the tension goes out of it. That word—tension—has an animal insistence for me. A piece of writing rises and falls with tension. The writer holds one end of the rope and the reader holds the other end—is the rope slack, or is it tight? Does it matter to the reader what the next sentence is going to be?

    From “Everything Is More Complicated Than You Think