19
September
2011

A night with Mr Franzen

Jonathan Franzen at Sydney Opera House September 2011

A few posts ago I wrote about my love affair with Jonathan Franzen’s latest novel, Freedom, but remarked that the author himself had a somewhat difficult reputation.

Well last week I went, with hundreds of others,  to see Jonathan Franzen speak at the Sydney Opera House, in a special one-off event organised by the Sydney Writers’ Festival (the Festival itself actually takes place in May each year).  Mr Franzen was on an extended visit to Australia, as special guest of both the Melbourne and Brisbane Writers’ Festivals. It was only fair that Sydney got a look in too.

Anyway, I have to say the curmudgeonly version of Mr Franzen was nowhere to be seen.  The Franzen I met demonstrated good-natured charm all evening, considering:

  1. The interviewer, literary critic Geordie Williamson, called him ‘James Franzen’ in his introduction and went on the pose a series of obscure questions that left interview-subject and audience equally perplexed.
  2. Someone in the audience took great exception to his views on 9/11 and stomped out flamboyantly, interrupting proceedings.
  3. He was required to sit and sign books for his (mostly female) fans for a good hour or more after the event. As you can see I got my book signed, and was delighted that he recognised that my name was old English word (FYI it means ‘a blessing’).

My literary crush also displayed a good line in self-deprecating humour, joking that he felt ‘ill-read’ compared with his interviewer.

That said, he did admit that he was once an angry young man, especially in the early 1990s.  With middle-age had come not indifference to the world’s troubles, but wisdom and acceptance.  I like the idea of people getting happier as they age—the world seems too full of angry old people these days.  (Mind you, selling millions of copies of your critically acclaimed novel would probably put anyone in a good mood.)

The interview was wide-ranging, but it was actually audience questions, of which many were allowed, which interested me the most (perhaps because I understood them).

One woman asked Franzen why he liked to write about dysfunctional families. His response was he didn’t know any dysfunctional families— the type, in his words, ‘who leave their baby at home for twenty-four hours while they’re out scoring  crack’—instead he knew lots of ‘interesting’ families and these were the people he liked to write about.

Are the Lamberts and Berglunds dysfunctional?  Or are they just interesting?  My husband is a family GP and thus exposed to pretty much the whole gamut of humanity. I think he’d agree with Franzen.

Another audience member asked why The Corrections was so much more satirical than Freedom.  This is the question I might have asked myself if I didn’t have a mortal fear of making a fool of myself.

When I talk to Franzen fans there seems to be two camps; those that prefer The Corrections (and are occasionally disappointed with Freedom), and those, such as myself, who adored The Corrections but loved Freedom even more.

And the reason I preferred Freedom was the lack of obvious satire. It’s a much warmer book.

Franzen remarked that this was an astute observation (damn, I should have asked the question!); he no longer felt confident about poking fun at others because it had occurred to him that he may not always be right.  A major recent influence on his writing has been the Canadian author Alice Munro and he is  now trying to follow her tenet of ‘no moral judgement’*. In Freedom he said, he simply tried to observe his characters, not judge or satirise.

Finally, a young woman asked why Jessica Berglund is such a minor character in Freedom.  I’ve heard this criticism elsewhere, that Franzen doesn’t do female characters well, or at very least is less interested in them.  We can form our own judgements about that.

This is the author’s explanation:  Jessica is ‘well-adjusted and high-achieving’, the subtext of course being that she’s not very interesting—a message for all the aspiring writers out there!

I won’t say more, except to say it was a terrific night. If you’re feeling envious you can listen to a recent audio interview with Franzen here.

For the record my signed copy of Freedom will never be sold on eBay.

P.S. If anyone who was also in attendance wants to add to or correct (hopefully not!)  my versions of events, be my guest.

* Shearer's Bookshop blog says Franzen used the words 'no moral position'. I didn't take notes so they are more likely right. However, it means the same thing, I think!

Comments (3)

  • Lia
    19 September 2011 at 15:56 |

    I'm so envious! Franzen, audience wincing, a storm-out, and your name recognised -- what an evening. And, yes, don't you kick yourself when someone else asks the question you were dithering about, and it turns out to be a good one? Self-doubt is our great ruiner.

    Heh; a friend of mine is very academic, and, at a dinner party, asked me a question about my book that I couldn't answer. It was honestly something like, "Do you find the relative dystopian lax of comedic literature to be reflective of man's post-oppression to the freedom of expression, or were you intending it to be more of a satirical reflection upon our attitudes towards self-aggrandisement in the face of our own inevitable mortality?" Actually, that makes more sense than her question did. Nonetheless, I outdid myself with the reply of, ".... yes?"

  • 19 September 2011 at 22:25 |

    Would love to have seen Franzen. I loved the Corrections and have Freedom, just haven't found the time to read it yet. Thanks so much for the great recount.

  • Cate P
    20 September 2011 at 11:26 |

    Sounds like an interesting night! Freedom is in my TBR pile and you have just enthused me to move it to the top :)

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