The opening scene of 2017’s “The Wife” is an actual wake up call. The caller from the Swedish Academy informs Jonathan Pryce’s character he’s won the Nobel Prize in Literature. Never outdone, Glenn Close won several awards for her performance, including one of my favorite movie scenes. At the faculty party where two women are discussing the old adage “a writer must write,” one says to the other, “a writer must be read.” Indeed.
Alexandra Alter interviewed former Williams College professor Louise Glück hours after the Cantabrigian received the same exact call from the very same academy. She, too, had just won the Nobel Prize in Literature. And anytime the Swedish Academy calls, you know it’s gonna be a hectic day.
Poetry isn’t my jam, so I’ve never read any Glück (sounds like “glick”). But she did address something that’s been bothering me: a late August editorial entitled “Don’t make us write obituaries.”
This passionate plea by the students on the post-secondary tri-campus that is Notre Dame, St. Mary’s, and Holy Cross (the midwestern one) was another wake-up call: from students to their institutional leaders. Unfortunately, Notre Dame’s president tested positive for the coronavirus after gallivanting around the Rose Garden. Along with the nominal president, each now presides over nothing but the backlash of students and voters.
The students’ lack of enthusiasm for writing obituaries is understandable. Their larger point about controlling the pandemic is also well-taken. Notably however, Glück told The New York Times:
“I’ve written about death since I could write. Literally when I was 10, I was writing about death. Yeah, well, I was a lively girl. Aging is more complicated. It isn’t simply the fact that you’re drawn closer to your death, it’s that faculties that you counted on — physical grace and strength and mental agility — these things are being compromised or threatened. It’s been very interesting to think about and write about.”
Of the half dozen or so columns I’ve written for The Edge since Leap Day, two were post-mortems about Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Chadwick Boseman. Writing about what it means when someone dies is never dull. Writing about dying is writing about the final circumstances of one’s life. The elegy. The denouement.
To the faith-based students of South Bend, I say watch another movie. “Obits” is 2016’s critically acclaimed documentary about the obituary desk writers at The New York Times. It’s also a mesmerizing look at a niche group of incredible storytellers. You’ll definitely never confuse a death notice with an obituary ever again, I promise.
Lucky for us, the Nobel Prize winner is writing about the more complicated thing. Aging, of course, is living. Aging/living in Berkshire County is like aging/living in a naturally occurring retirement community. Without a doubt, this reality poses challenges in a rural area in a state of emergency. It also reminds us of all the opportunities that come with longevity.
Glück’s description of what her new work’s about: “Falling apart. There’s a lot of mourning in the book. There’s also a lot of comedy in the book, and the poems are very surreal.” In other words, 2020 in a nutshell.
