Saturday, March 25, 1972 THE MICHIGAN DAILY Page Five AN INTERVIEW Elizabeth Hardwick: A view of her own' Elizabeth Hardwick, A VIEW OF MY OWN, Farrar, Strauss, $4.50, paper $1.65. By MERYL GORDON In Elizabeth Hardwick's book of critical essays, A View of My Own, the author provides a portrait of America in the nine- teen fifties. These essays hit up- on such wide-ranging topics as works of Mary McCarthy and William James, books on urban poverty, "The Life and Death of Caryl Chessman," "America and Dylan Thomas", Simone de Beauvoir's The Second Sex, and opinions about the city of Bos- ton. and American expatriates in Italy. Always witty and sharp, her essays assume a great deal of knowledge on the reader's part (of books, people, experi- ences of the fifties) which makes the book appear some- .what dated, but still valid and interesting. She introduces her point of concern b e f o r e delving into specific authors. Before her es- says on the collected letters of several authors, she writes. In letters we can reform with- out practice, beg without hu- miliation, snip and shape em- barassing experiences to the measure of our own desires -- this is a benevolent form. The ideal self expressed in letters is not a crudely sugary affair except in dreary personalities; in any case the ideal is very much a part of the character, having its twenty-four hours a day to get through, and be- ing no less unique in its comi- binations than one's finger- prints. Hardwick frequently views authors' works as a result of their American experience which can be either good or bad de- pending on the artist and the experience. William James, whom she calls an "American hero," is said to be a "sort of Californian; he loves the new and unhistori- cal and cannot resist the shadi- est of claims." Hardwick says that Caryl Chessman's autobiography, Cell 2455: Death Row is an "oddly American book. The need to confess violent thought is soft- ened by the cream of despair- ing sentiment, remembered hope, perfect loves, and the incongru- ent beauties of the jungle." She ascribes a great deal of importance to America's im- print on Dylan Thomas. Dylan Thomas was loved and respected abroad, but he was literally adored in America ... He was both a success and failure in a way we find par- ticularly appealing ... He had everything and "threw it all away." The maniacal permissive- ness and submissiveness of American friends might, for all we know, have actually shortened Thomas' life, al- though he was ill and driven in England too. But there was a certain amount of poison in our good will. In the ac- ceptance of his tragic condi- tion there was a great deal of indifference and self de- ception. She also has very definite thoughts concerning the char- acters of American cities and states. All the American regions are breaking up, ground down to a standard American corn meal . . . Some of the legend was once real, surely. Our util- itarian fluid landscape has produced a handful of region- al conceptions, popular im- ages, brief and naked: the conservative Vermonteer, the boastful, the honeyed South- erner. Elizabeth Hardwick is present- ly an Advisory Editor of the New York Review of Books, and is teaching a course in creative writing at Barnard College. She is also contributing critical es- says to several magazines. A book of essays centered around the domestic situations of men and women in literature is scheduled for publication this fall. Recently, Hardwick spoke at the University on "Women as Characters and as Authors". The following day I talked with her about many of the subjects she had discussed in her speech. Question: In last night's speech you said that "Women see themselves as weak, and men feel women to be strong." Would you comment further on that? Elizabeth Hardwick: It's a problem in our sense of reality. I think it's the basis of many quarrels between men and wo- men. Women are sort of feeling that they can't get an inning at all. while men see them as mysteriously strong and power- ful. It's a source of tension and a source of woman's subterfuge . . . of woman not being quite direct in order to overcome the feeling of being the weaker member. It's difficult to generalize though . . . the balance of traits is different in individual men and women . . . that's why marriage and love affairs are such sources of fiction. Q.: You also said, last night, that you disliked the style of writing of the women's move- ment. However, do you think that important things are be- ing said? E.H.: The intellectual quality of the writing is very low. I've never seen a movement with, such poor writing. It's disas- trous, because people aren't stu- pid. To present things in a banal way, they destroy the con- cern of intellectual women on this. I'm not just talking about literature, I'm talking about the quality of intellect. However, I think that careers for women are no longer a choice, they're a necessity. I re- cently read a questionnaire of young men, and they're not about to live with the same wo- man for fifty years. If you don't work, what are you going to do? How are you going to live and support yourself? Even if you were married, you couldn't ex- pect a man to support you for the rest of your life. He can't be (your total support), why should he be, and why should you want him to be? The people who are more crit- ical of the women's movement say that it comes out of afflu- ent, middle class college girls. It really, comes from the break- down of marriages. Men don't want 4to accept the burden of lifelong support. There is also the side of doing it (having a career) for yourself. I want to stress the necessity of women having careers in our society. Q.: Has your perspective on female writers and fiction changed in the past few years? E.H.: I've always been inte'- ested in women writers , . . you are if you write yourself. I'm al- ways changing my way of look- ing at things. The women's movement isn't a program or a philosophy, it's a critical way of looking at relationships, ask- ing what is really happening here? It do find that I keep finding new things. Q.: How do you help students to write, in the course you teach at Barnard? E.H.: I try to get students not to rely entirely on feelings. They never use what they know .. . geography, history . . . I try to get them to incorporate general knowledge with feeling. 'Also, to open up possibilities besides short stories, things that might help them make literature. Q.: Are there any current writers that you like? E.H.: I like Mary McCarthy very much, and Hannah Arendt is a great thinker, an extraor- dinary woman. I like Susan Sontag . . . she is very much put-down. Those are three wo- men that I have a lot of admir- ation for. I have a great deal of reverence for what they're trying to do. I've known lots of writers . . and both distinguished and un- distinguished all labor in the same way. It's a terribly diffi- cult thing. You're up against the limits of your own intellect, fineness of spirit, sense of the world . . . you have nothing to call upon except yourself. It's a stark sort of feeling. You're completely bounded by your own insight. It's like peeling an onion, ex- cept you never know what you'll find underneath. You uncover layers in yourself and slough some of them off. It's very hard to get down to the core. Vegetarian Cookery Walter and Jenny Fliess, MODERN VEGETARIAN COOKERY, Penguin B o o k s, $1.75 (paperback). Blues of writing fiction so many synonyms for stone- cheeked rolls, failed souffle;, and sulking loaves of bread (vide Myra Waldo's Glossary to the International Encyclopedia of Cooking). The confirmed vegetarian gourmet may be ex- cused for selectively ruffling the pages of Elizabeth David's exquisite volumes on European Today's Illustration.. At a time when the popularization of Zen culture has seemingly reached its limits, Zen and the Fine Arts (Kodanshlia, $26.00) comes as a refreshingly perceptive analysis. This issue of the now rare Japanese edition, represents the first major attempt to probe the complex relationship between Zen and the fine arts. Dr. Shin'ichi Hisamatau, the author and a former pro- fessor of religion and Buddhism at Kyoto University, defines Seven Characteristics of Zen art which are now considered an essential key to the complex of cultural expressions which arose with the Zen Awakening. The work shown above was done by Hakuin Ekaku whose fame derived from his success in spreading Zen to the general populace-three centuries ago. E.M. Forster's Maurice' E. M. Forster, M A U R I C E, W. W. Horton, $6.95. By SANDRA SIMONS Maurice is a literary fiction, but though it is fiction, Forester in this newly-published novel. renders us with a very poignant issue. Maurice presents a sensi- tive and compelling portrayal of a young man who discovers that his physical desires tend towards iembers of his own sex. We are first introduced to Maurice Hall as he is a young lad, aged fourteen, enrolled in grammer school in London, Eng- Interwoven beneath this liter- ary framework are the psycho- logical manifestations of the re- lationship b e t w e e n the two young men. Forster makes keen observations and shows aston- ishing insight into the private agony of Maurice. His frequent debates with Clive about relig- ion force him to cease taking communion and finally to break from the church altogether. His own doubts about God (religious undertones thread their way throughout the novel) grow into feelings of utter contempt for the church and towards society as well. "Did society, while pro- But Maurice finally reconciles himself to the fact that he will not be "cured." This would mean going against both his natural impulses and his free will, were he to attempt to live any other way, or to become a different sort of man. At one point he even ponders whether a real Hell is not, after all, preferable to a manufactured Heaven. Though Maurice was written in 1914, Forster's novel remained in un-released manuscript until he died. The author felt that with the existing laws in his day, prohibiting homosexuality and making it a crime ebupled with fear and ignorance on the part of society, that his work was before its time and would most likely have offended and insulted the public. Consequent- ly, it was only posthumously that Maurice was turned over to a publishing house. Forster was definitely ahead of his time in his liberal attitudes, and he himself felt that the book be- longed to a certain era. In the explanatory note which appears at the close of the novel, For- ster writes: A friend recently remarked that for readers today [19601 it can only have a period in- terest. I wouldn't go as far as that, but it certainly dates- not only because of its end- less anachronisms-its half- sovereign tips, pianola-re- cords, norfolk jackets . . Libs and Terriers, uninformed doctors and undergraduates walking arm in arm, but for a more vital reason: it belongs to an England where it was still possible to get lost. You have to strongly disagree with the author's own assump- tions about his work. No matter what the time, where the place, E. M. Forster touched on the universal theme of defending the individual, the unique per- sonality in all human beings. His evocative novel is timeless; Forster asks for an understand- ing of all that is human, of both the strong and the weak, but most important, of the individ- ual and his right to dignity no matter what he is. Gerald Rosen, BLUES FOR A DYING NATION, Dial Press $7.95. By TIM DONAHUE Gerald Rosen's Blues for a Dying Nation is an absurd novel about, mostly, the inanity of the military. I've nothing against absurdity and I'm not an out- standing proponent of the mili- tary; I insanely love Heller and Vonnegut. But absurdity and a popular theme, as Rosen too amply proves in Blues, does not make a novel. Rosen writes: Getting through my time in the army was similar to read- ingha long book by a novelist with a bad ear. Dragging yourself through the book as a whole may finally lead to y o u r having learned some- thing. But it's getting through each sentence that's the prob- lem. It is unforunately ironic that Rosen is a novelist with a very bad ear. But don't take my word for it, let Rosen convince you himself with a scrap of not un- representative dialogue: Well, Thoreau's aunt is sup- posed to have come to visit him as he lay dying and ask- ed him if he had made his peace with God, to which he replied, "I didn't know we had quarrelled." You see how typi- cal of Thoreau that is, wheth- er he really said it or not. Thoreau was such a prick, but only a quirky prick could have gone his own way against the draft of a madly materialistic age while still keeping the barb and sting of his wit alive --without becoming bitterly self-pitying. Emerson k n e w that-that was why he loved Thoreau. And I do, too. But I'm not sure that his path is still there for us to follow. The site of his cabin at the pond is marked, but the cabin itself is no longer there. Whew! That is just one speech from several pages of such heady dialogue. It is stiff going at best. Still, this is going to be a very By DEBORAH BROWN LEVINE Twenty years ago a vegetarian was, in the popular imagination, a pale-palmed gentleman, spec- tacled, probably British, who quoted Shaw and read Madame Blavatsky. Today, a vegetarian may be anyone's independently cooking son or daughter. Which simply means that vegetarianism is no longer a moral and aesthe- tic attitude towards food, but has become, like pacifism, Zen, and communal living, part of the youth-dominated rejections of so- ciety's plastic merchandise and merchandiser's techniques. So- ciety, however, is rather like the Plastic Mari of the old 1940's comic strip, with a long finger in everyone's pie: vegetarian cookbooks litter the bookstands, calculated to tempt the affluent, alienated appetite, all too ob- viously making money for some- body. It is pleasant, therefore, to come upon Walter and Jenny Fliess' Modern Vegetarian Cook- ery; a modestly-priced paper- back in the excellent Penguin series,. w h i c h offers sensible recipes for vegetarians (as op- posed to people who experiment with vegetables). Mr. and Mrs. Fliess, former owners of Lon- don's Vega restaurant, have not shirked the central problem of modern vegetarianism: can a person stay healthy on a diet of green-picked, pre-packed, heat- forced, sprayed and often posi- tively poisonous produce? The book recommends washing in- warm water, peeling and yeast extract, advice indigestible to the gourmet. The recipes themselves are solid. Englishmen, with bril- liant exceptions, are realistic rather than inspired cooks-what other nation could have invented k s short review if I can't find some- thing nice to say about Blues and there is one thing I ,host definitely liked. Interspersed throughout the novel are "Bulletins.' These "Bulletins" are mostly short filler items, apparently clipped right out of the New York Times; I imagine that they are all real, as I wds able to re- cognize several of them myself. They are often, especially be- cause they are not in their usual context and hence invite inter- pretation and extrapolation, very sardonic and witty, but they, are not enough to make Blues worth your while. Still, I can't close without sharing with you one excellent example of modern double-think Rosen had the good judgment to include in Blues. It is an AP article, datelined Chicago, head- lined, "Doing Their Thing Is Called Hippies' Way to Duck Life:" A psychiatrist on the staff of the Menninger clinic says that hippies refuse to face such adult responsibilities as mar- riage and earning a living, and refuse to admit their refusal, too. I wonder if Rosen is familiar with the Twenty-Second Catch. Today's Writers .,. Meryl Gordon is a Daily assistant night editor who recently interviewed Elizabeth Hardwick when she spoke on campus. Sandra Simons is an English major and an avid reader of fiction-both present and past. Tim Donahue, an undergrad- uate, reviews frequently for the Daily. Deborah Levine, in addition to being a connoisseur of cook- books, is working on a doctoral dissertation in Indian art his- tory. food (also available in this Pen- gum series); he might enjoy better health if he adds the yeast extract. Nutrition is a problem every vegetarian must solve or suffer for himself. A minor point: the measurements here are British standard and require conversion. land. He is graduating and about to leave for secondary school at Sunnington. From there the book takes off at a delicate pace and both Maurice's- past and his future slowly begin to unfold for us, Maurice comes from an aver- age enough background: he re- sides with his mother and his two older sisters in London; his deceased father was a business- man. Home life is dull and ex- * acting. At Cambridge University he meets Clive Durham, who awakens Maurice's passion for his own sex. Clive is a pensive, intellectual sort-rather a con- trast to Maurice, who, though sensitive and oftimes witty, lacks his friend's enthusiasm for scholarly endeavor. fessing to be so moral and sen- sitive, really mind anything?" Only to discover that, indeed. There are certain acts which so- ciety minds very much and can- not condone ("England has al- ways been disinclined to accept human nature" his hypnotist asserts). Maurice plunges into a world of pain, inner torment, and frustration. When Clive de- clares he has reverted to the life of a "normal" male and sub- sequently marries, existance be- comes an even greater hell for Maurice. He is completely shat- tered; at first he refuses to ac- cept this fact and even tries hypnosis to be "cured." It is with great alacrity that Forster details the conflicts seething within his hero. Nancy WECHSLER For City Council, Second Ward RACISM " Self-determination of all minority groups " Expand power and budget of city's Human Relations Department to fight discrimination in jobs, housing " Education and Retraining of migrants " The University should comply with BAM demands and obligations to Native Americans under Fort Meigs Treaty Creative Arts Festival PRESENTS SRt>I1.GFEST ' / KEI in Conjunction with the Monthly Art Fair Series and the Student Art Gallery (all events free admission) SATURDAY, March 25; 1-5 p.m., in the Student Gallery ART DEMONSTRATION and WORKSHOP: Poetry readings at 1 :00 (bring your own poems!) and a Quilting Bee at 2:00. 8:00-11:00 IN THE MICHIGAN UNION BALLROOM- COFFEE HOUSE: Poetry Readings by Ken Fifer, Larry Ross, and Terry Patten. Folksinger Sue Geiger. Bring your own instruments and JAM. FREE REFRESHMENTS SUNDAY, March 26;12-6 p.m., Michigan Union Ballroom