MICHIGAN DAILY

COMMUNITY CULTURE

Literati brings lauded 
U-M novelists together

Peter Ho Davies and Derek 

Palacio talk fate, fiction and the 
meaning of home. They have 
the kind of professional and 
personal friendship all aspiring 
authors would hope for. After 
meeting through Palacio’s wife, 
fiction star Claire Vaye Watkins, 
they’ve both taught 
at 
the 
University 

of 
Michigan, 

championed 
each 

other’s 
work 
and 

played soccer with 
their MFA students 
on the weekends.

Last year, both the 

authors 
published 

novels which have 
earned them critical recognition 
and literary attention. Davie’s 
second novel, “The Fortunes,” 
loosely connects four stories of 
the Chinese-American experience 
through space and time, while 
Palacio’s 
debut 
novel 
“The 

Mortification” follows a Cuban-
American family as they navigate a 
new life in New England.

You’ve both written fiction for 

many years, of course, but you also 
both teach creative writing here at 
Michigan. How does this process 
of teaching new writers inform 
your own practice? Or, maybe, it 
doesn’t, and you view them as two 
very separate endeavors?

Davies: Good students — and 

we’re lucky to have excellent ones 
here —keep you on your toes! Their 
work is so distinctive, so individual, 
that I feel I’m often learning from 
it, as I often do from hearing what 
they’re reading. More than this 
though, their passion for writing, 
their commitment to their work, is 
often simply inspiring.

Palacio: 
They’re 
pretty 

complementary for me. I’ve been 
very fortunate to teach in very 
different settings. Michigan is 
very different from the IEIA [the 
Institute of American Indian Arts 
MFA, where Palacio also teaches] 
program. And from the Mojave 
School [a writing program started 
by Palacio and his wife, Claire 
Vaye Watkins, for students in rural 
Nevada].

Let’s talk a little bit more 

in-depth about each of your most 
recent novels, “The Mortifications” 
and “The Fortunes.” Both titles 
evoke a mystic or religious theme, 
and this theme is extended through 
the novels with discussions of 
the role of fate or destiny in the 
narrative, as well as human agency. 
What drew you to this theme?

Davies: I want to suggest with 

“The Fortunes” the mixture of luck 
and fate that shapes the characters’ 
lives, but the title, of course, is also 
a reference to that most common 
Chinese-American signifier, the 
fortune cookie. Everyone knows 
the fortune cookie isn’t really 
Chinese (you don’t get fortune 
cookies in restaurants in China, of 
course) but something about how 
bogusly Chinese they are makes me 
think of them as humbly, but also 
authentically Chinese-American.

Palacio: 
There’s 
a 
lot 
of 

wonderful immigrant fiction out 
there about coming to America 
and assimilating, finding your 
place. But there are also wonderful 
stories — and this is where “The 
Mortifications” leans — about the 
impossibility of ever feeling that 
this is your home. The question 
most immigrants have to ask is: 
What would my life have been 
like if I’d stayed? There’s always 
these two tracks of comparison, 

and 
because 

you 
can’t 
ever 

fully leave your 
culture 
behind, 

or fully embrace 
the new culture 
in which you live, 
it’s a question you 
carry with you 
always. The idea 
of destiny and fate 

in this book is woven into the idea 
of family — what might have been 
had they stayed.

Derek, “The Mortifications” is 

billed as a new take on the Cuban-
American immigrant narrative. 
Stylistically, it could be seen as 
more restrained, something that 
you don’t come across much 
in older classics of the Cuban-
American 
literary 
tradition. 

Thematically, it takes place in 
New England, far from Cuban-
American strongholds like Miami. 
Was this use of language and 
location a response to the colorful, 
over-the-top exuberance of older 
narratives in this tradition? Or was 
it less a reaction to this tradition, 
than simply a reflection of your 
own voice and experience?

Palacio: I don’t know if I was 

really trying to differentiate or push 
away from that. There’s a lot of stuff 
in here — the food, characters such 
as Uxbal [the father left behind in 
Cuba] — that is a ridge between 
these two literary traditions. On 
my father’s side I’m technically a 
first generation American. So from 
that perspective, I’m not that far 
from Cuba, but I also grew up in 
New Hampshire, and I don’t speak 
Spanish. So I was really trying to 
write about the Cubans I knew, 
which was my family growing up in 
New England. I don’t know if we’re 
more restrained — we’re probably 
just more “New England.”

I wanted to talk to you both 

about the vital role women play 
in your narratives. The mother, 
as a recurring symbol and as a 
living, breathing person, crops 
up in both your works quite a bit. 
In “The Mortifications,” she’s an 
immensely important character 
who in fact sets the narrative in 
motion by moving the family to 
the U.S. and leaving her husband 
behind. Significant mother figures, 
absent or present, also weave their 
way through each story in “The 
Fortunes.” Why was it important 
to feature these mothers, and how 
did you try to better understand 
and portray them?

Davies: Parenthood has been a 

theme in my fiction for a while now 
(even before I was a parent, writing 
about it was a kind of rehearsal!) 
but you’re right that mothers play 
a key role in each section of The 
Fortunes. That likely reflects their 
importance in immigrant stories, 

in settling, in creating homes and 
families, in nurturing successive 
generations.

Palacio: I finished the book 

before our kid was born — we have 
a three-year-old now. But with 
Soledad [the novel’s matriarch], 
and for the rest of the characters to 
a degree, this is a book that didn’t 
want to stray much from the big 
questions. When I was writing 
Soledad, I had that question that 
parents who move their families 
have to always ask: Am I glad I did 
that? You’re ripping them from one 
world and putting them in another. 
What does that leave you in the 
new world? Is that a power you can 
invoke again and again, or is that 
a power that diminishes, because 
you’ve already exercised it? Maybe 
you only get to do that once in their 
lives. Isabel [Soledad’s daughter] 
gets a long leash, but that’s a 
freedom that comes in the wake of 
disrupting Isabel’s early childhood 
in Cuba. As a parent, I’m living 
[some of these questions] now.

There 
is, 
at 
times, 
an 

undercurrent of sensuality or 
sexuality that runs through both 
your works, yet it doesn’t play 
into stereotypes or conventional 
mainstream notions of Chinese, 
Cuban, 
Chinese-American 
or 

Cuban-American sexuality. For 
instance, Chinese sex workers are 
portrayed as neither exotic sirens 
nor alluring victims, and Cuban-
American mother Soledad gains 
stature in the United States not 
from her “tropical” sensuality, 
but 
from 
her 
cautious, 
cool 

professionalism. How do you side-
step adding to the over-sexualized 
portrayals of Asian and Latin 
American women in the United 
States, 
without 
making 
your 

characters seem frigid or flat?

Davies: There are a lot of 

stereotypes, both about Asian 
women and men, and I wanted 
less to side-step them than to 
confront them. For instance, the 
character of Anna May Wong, the 
first Chinese-American movie star, 
who helped create some of those 
very stereotypes, but who was 
also imprisoned — personally and 
professionally — by them. [This] 
was a great way to address and 
then undermine stereotypes.

Palacio: You’re always hoping 

that you’re treating every character, 
regardless of gender, as a full 
individual with their own sense of 
desire. With Soledad, there was 
some element of wanting her to 
find some joy somewhere along 
the way in this journey. With 
[my characters], Soledad and 
Isabel, I was very lucky. I can’t 
claim any deliberateness in my 
fortune with them. They were 
just such powerful people, and 
I’ve been lucky to know a lot of 
powerful women in my life. My 
mother is a very strong presence 
in my life, when I think of her 
personality and how she moves 
through the world, and my wife 
is a complete and total genius 
and champion. I’ve been lucky to 
be surrounded by these women, 
so I can’t think of women in any 
other way. I try not to, and I try 
to remember that when I come 
to the page.

MERIN MCDIVITT

Daily Arts Writer

“Fiction at 
Literati”

September 15th @ 

7 P.M.

Literati Bookstore

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SHOWTIME

‘Twin Peaks’ finale fulfills 
decades-old ambitions

The beauty of mystery and 

the uncanny in “Twin Peaks” 
has always been its strongest 
asset. Lynch and company 
never strive to produce a show 
that’s 
obvious, 
self-evident 

or plain. As a result, “Twin 
Peaks” is a deeply polarizing 
show: You can choose to 
reject the lack of structure, 
or 
embrace 
the 

sidewinding, 
glacial 
pace. 

Unsurprisingly, 
the 
program 

rewards 
the 

second approach 
more 
than 
the 

first. 
For 
those 

who stuck around, the series 
finale offered more questions 
than answers, concluding the 
series without being heavy-
handed.

Released together, “Part 17” 

and “Part 18” complete the trek 
of the series that was cut short. 
At an accidental rendezvous, 
Special Agent Dale Cooper’s 
doppelganger 
(Kyle 

McLachlan, “Portlandia”) is 
shot by none other than Lucy 
Brennan (Kimmy Robertson, 
“Beauty 
and 
the 
Beast”). 

This occurrence is a high 
water mark for the plausible, 
yet still absurd addition of 
comedy to moments of intense 
gravity. 
The 
manifestation 

of BOB’s energy is broken 
by 
Freddie 
Sykes 
(Jake 

Wardle, 
“something”), 
and 

then doppelganger Cooper is 
quickly sent back to the Black 
Lodge by real Cooper. The 
series ends here, right? Wrong.

While the key narrative 

threads 
have 
been 
tied 

together, the majority of the 
finale is devoted to Cooper’s 
re-undertaking of the case 

of Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee, 
“Wild at Heart”). It feels alien 
to re-encounter this major 
element 
because 
so 
much 

of “The Return” was spent 
outside of Twin Peaks. Still, 
Cooper as the hero restored 
acts as if he had never left, 
preventing her murder after 
Philip 
Jeffries 
(a 
cameo 

by the late David Bowie) 
transports him to the night of 
the event. The morning that 
follows, however, Laura still 
disappears.

The 
events 

which 
follow 

Cooper’s 
apparent rescue 
of Laura seem 
extraneous and 
unrelated.

For audiences 

that 
were 

looking for closure, the series 
may as well end there for 
them. Cooper returns to the 
Black Lodge again, and is 
escorted out by Diane. They 
leave, drive down a long desert 
highway 
before 
“crossing 

over,” and arrive at a motel to 
have sex. Diane (Laura Dern, 
“Big Little Lies”) revealed in 
“Part 16” that the multiple 
iterations 
of 
one 
person 

(although not doppelgangers) 
are 
called 
tulpas, 
coming 

from the tradition of Tibetan 
Buddhism. Tulpas are beings 
that are born into existence 
by strong spiritual or mental 
powers — somewhat like an 
imaginary 
friend. 
Dougie 

Jones (still Kyle McLachlan) is 
an example of a tulpa, created 
by Cooper’s doppelganger.

In the morning, Cooper 

wakes up alone, and reads 
a letter on the bed stand 
addressed to Richard from 
Linda. He proceeds to find 
a 
Laura 
Palmer 
lookalike, 

Carrie 
Page 
(Sheryl 
Lee), 

and attempts to reunite her 
with her mother. When they 

arrive at Laura’s old address, 
a stranger answers, denying 
any connection to the Palmer 
family. Carrie and Cooper turn 
away and prepare to leave, but 
not before Cooper senses a 
disturbance. Carrie screams 
the 
iconic 
Laura 
Palmer 

scream, and the power goes 
out. Credits roll.

For those expecting a clean 

ending, 
the 
unfolding 
of 

events may be confusing. Who 
are Richard and Linda? Why 
is Laura Palmer back, again? 
Where did Diane and Cooper 
cross over to? None of these 
questions are the right ones to 
ask. “Twin Peaks” has never 
operated at a literal level, so 
the audience is pointed to the 
greater concepts of the series. 
Strong will and determination 
can take human form; good 
and evil are constantly at 
war; spirits and magic hide 
in plain sight. “Twin Peaks: 
The Return” may not have 
been 
the 
series 
audiences 

anticipated, but it is the series 
that delivered an appropriate, 
creatively rich conclusion. 

JACK BRANDON

Daily Arts Writer

“Twin Peaks: 
The Return”

Showtime

Series Finale

TV REVIEW

“Twin Peaks” has 

never operated 
at a literal level, 
so the audience 
is pointed to the 
greater concepts 

of the series

Read more at 
MichiganDaily.com

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, September 15, 2017 — 7A

