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If you're looking for the perfect novel to throw into your beach bag for the holiday weekend, make sure Colson Whitehead's Sag Harbor (our Spotlight Best of the Month pick for May) is it the top of the pile. Set over the summer of 1985, Sag Harbor is a soulful, celebratory, and painfully funny novel that chronicles those lazy, sun-soaked days sandwiched between Memorial Day and
Labor Day. The story of 15-year-old Benji Cooper, a Converse-wearing,
Smiths-loving, Dungeons & Dragons-playing nerd, will stick with you long after closing the cover. I recently caught up with Whitehead over e-mail to talk about Sag Harbor and discuss some pop culture hits and misses from the 1980s, grilling tips, McFadden & Whitehead, 12-sided die, and the lure of Twitter (that means you, @assistantjarvis).
- Read Jonathan Lethem's Guest Review of Sag Harbor
- Read the first chapter of Sag Harbor
- Watch a video of Colson Whitehead talking about Sag Harbor
- Check out Colson Whitehead's exclusive Sag Harbor playlist
Amazon.com: I really tried not to ask this (and forgive me for even bringing it up as I'm sure you're sick of answering this already), but let's get this out of the way: How much of Sag Harbor, your "autobiographical fourth novel," is actually autobiographical?
Colson Whitehead: Well, certainly it takes off from a period in my life--I was raised in New York City and went out to Sag Harbor in the summers--but all the interesting parts are most likely made up. Nothing that interesting has happened to me; hence my novel about Sag Harbor in 1985, as opposed to the memoir. Not that I wouldn't like to write a memoir. If I were shipwrecked on an island for five years with no one to talk to but a soccer ball, I'd have my book proposal already carved into a coconut when they picked me up. And if I were on a plane that went down in the mountains and the survivors had to eat each other, two things would happen: One, I'd totally be the first one to eat someone, because I'm over that particular cultural taboo, and Two, I'd be over at Doubleday the minute they rescued us.
Amazon.com: Did writing in the first person loosen you up and allow better access to Benji's story?
Whitehead: Probably. The adult version of Benji has a nice sense of humor, and a relatively generous way of seeing the world, and that allows for a pretty laid back voice. But no matter what book I'm working on, once I get the voice of the narrator down, things go more smoothly in the day to day process.
Amazon.com: In the book, it's an adult Benji Cooper looking back on 1985. Who is the adult Benji? Where's he living? What's he up to?
Whitehead: I don't want to sound like a cryptic European intellectual, but I don't know because his apartment, city, and general level of happiness don't exist. They haven't been written yet. But they might be one day...
Amazon.com: When I was pitching Sag Harbor to my colleagues and friends I had a hard time describing what actually happened in those 272 pages. Those sun-soaked set pieces blend together and really capture that nostalgic feeling of passing summer days. Was having a relatively plot-free coming-of-age story part of your plan?
Whitehead: I wanted to stay true to most people's summers--we grow .0001 percent between Memorial Day and Labor Day, and the moments of transformation are almost imperceptible. Most of us don't have Boo Radleys, don't find dead bodies in the woods while "Stand By Me" plays in the background, and if I walked around saying "Everyone is a phony," I'd hear my family's voice drawling, "And?" So the problem in writing a book where there isn't a pulse pounding plot is finding away to elevate these quotidian moments to the fiction-worthy. But some of my favorite books--Ulysses, Mrs. Dalloway, The Rings of Saturn--contain whole universes while traveling a relatively small patch, so it didn't seem that weird a thing to do.
Amazon.com: What's your strongest personal memory of the summer of 1985?
Whitehead: I don't know, but going down to the Village to buy rock T-shirts and records--all by myself!--was a nice lighting-out into my odd territories, and a very special time of trying to figure out how to do things.
Amazon.com: Do you have any 80s-era sartorial missteps you care to share?
Whitehead: I stand by everything I committed during that time, except for the folly of the oversized David Byrne sports jacket, sometimes utilized to "get into a club." The abyss gazes also.
Amazon.com: How much fun did you have riffing on the "grammatical acrobatics" the boys trade with each other throughout the book?
Whitehead: Well, you know I like my little riffs, and the Insult Chart allowed me to have fun with the way we talk to each other, in a George Carlinesque kind of way. I wrote it down on in a big drawing pad and I use it as a "visual aid" during readings, pointing at it and explaining it to the audience. It's always a bit awkward when it opens up in the airport and everyone can see my weird profanity.
Amazon.com: How did you go about digging through the past to hit the right pop-culture milestones that set your novel specifically in 1985?
Whitehead: Just because I like a song doesn't mean that it's going to serve the story, so after I went back and got all the old hip hop, new wave, and hardcore that was chronologically appropriate, I had to figure out what would help move Benji's story along, and what would not. "Roxanne, Roxanne" or "One Love"? (The former.) Flipper or Bauhaus or both. (Both!) Does Liquid Liquid being sampled in Grandmaster Flash's "White Lines" say more about black/white rock/rap collisions or does Kraftwerk in "Planet Rock" provide a more interesting avenue of exploration? (The latter!)
Amazon.com: Music courses throughout the book and really captures that period when early hip hop mixed with new wave. The annotated playlist you shared with us goes up and down the dial--from The Smiths to Run DMC and Husker Du to Doug E Fresh and Slick Rick. I have to say, though, that it's McFadden & Whitehead's "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now"--heard throughout the book at parties, in passing cars, while walking down the street--that's still stuck in my head.
Whitehead: I like Benji's analysis of the song more than mine, so I'll let his words in the final chapter speak for itself. In keeping with the question just above, there were songs that might have moved Benji's story along, but didn't make the cut. So the playlist adds a little more context to where his head might have been at. But yes, I agree with Benji that "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now" is the Black National Anthem. He's very perceptive!
Amazon.com: As with Junot Diaz's geeked-out The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Sag Harbor features its share of Dungeons & Dragons jargon. You sound like a guy who knew his way around a Monster Manual. When did you retire your 12-sided die?
Whitehead: In Eighth Grade, but if you ask my mother she'll say that I still play. Whenever there's a school shooting like Columbine or something, she'll call me up and say, "They played Dungeons & Dragons, you know." It's been 25 years!
Amazon.com: Benji's extended riff on working at an ice cream shop was one of my favorite parts of the book. In a 2006 "Eat, Memory" piece for the New York Times Magazine you wrote of your personal hatred of ice cream, which stemmed from your own summers scooping and making waffle cones at Sag Harbor's Big Olaf Ice Cream, the model for Jonni Waffle in the book. Are you still off all things sweet?
Whitehead: Pretty much. Now that I have a kid and there's more candy around, I'll sometimes steal her stash when she's asleep. But ice cream and crème brule and tira-what have you? Ughh.
Amazon.com: And keeping on the foodie tip, I've read that you've really been into grilling and even picked up a Big Green Egg smoker. Any grilling tips you care to share? What's your signature dish?
Whitehead: Did a lot of ribs last year, so I may move out into the brisket area this summer. It's all about the rub, my friend. Don't put your faith in sauce unless it's a nice North Carolina vinegar based one. Also, get some cumin seeds, grind em up, and put it on everything.
Amazon.com: Your Twitter updates seem to have a running theme: the misadventures of your undermining assistant Jarvis and your quest to get published in PostSecret. Any updates on either front?
Whitehead: Ahh, @colsonwhitehead--can you tell I'm between projects? It's been a nice outlet while I figure out what to do next. I still haven't been able to crack PostSecret--you'd think getting published in the New Yorker would open a few doors, but nada. Assistant Jarvis [@assistantjarvis] is still a marvel of passive aggression, but I have to admit he does keep on top of my correspondence. It is still disquieting, however, when I come to my office and I see him sitting at my desk, wearing my clothes and a dreadlock wig while murmuring, "Lila Mae, c'est moi."
Amazon.com: Finally, does the MacArthur Grant limit the number of times per week that you can refer to yourself as a "genius" to settle bets with family or friends?
Whitehead: The MacArthur lasts for five years, and mine expired on December 31, 2007. So I'm totally rocking the whole Flowers for Algernon thing.
--BTP
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