This week the American writer George Saunders, celebrated for his short floors, won the Man Booker prize with his first story, Lincoln in the Bardo. He talks about brevity, empathy and how he views writing as a way of activism
George Saunders won the Man Booker prize on Tuesday nighttime, but while he was working on Lincoln in the Bardo, his triumphing diary, he would sometimes stop and ask himself if it certainly was a novel he was writing. He still reverberates a little distrustful.” I still, I still … I signify, it says it is !” he says, pointing to the dustjacket; US tradition dictates that a novel is specified as such on its cover.
Until now, Saunders, 58, has been master of the short story.( He won the Folio prize in 2014 for his collect Tenth of December and in 2006 was gifted a MacArthur companionship .) This is one reason why he and his wife, Paula, who has been his first reader since they met in 1986 on a creative book MFA at Syracuse University, still laughter about the book.” Quite good abuse of lily-white opening there !” one of them will say.” I guess it is a novel ,” Saunders says.
Back in the early 1990 s, when Saunders started writing fiction, he had a task as a technical scribe for a firm called Radian Corporation. His degree was in investigate geophysics. Money was tight, time was close-fisted. He and Paula got engaged within three weeks of intersect.” We weren’t the type of person that we would normally be drawn to ,” Saunders says.” I think there’s something karmic, certain kinds of finish happen. I’ve never not been interested in her .” Within three years they were married with two children , now 29 and 27. Short tales formed smell. They could fit into the spreads of life, or worked on secretively on a Radian computer screen that should have been filling up with a technical report. I wonder how hard it was to adjust to the longer structure. Perhaps the period came with the time and the money.
” I’ve always said to my legends:’ Don’t bloat. Don’t bloat! Let’s get in and out of here as fast as we can ,'” Saunders says. He addresses his toil often, sometimes as” dear storey”, and ascribes to it a wilfulness independent of its columnist.( As in:” I’m really looking at you, dear narrative. What do you want me to do ?”)” I said the same stuff now. And the book said:’ I know, I know. But …'” It insisted on being less lean.” I concluded, that’s wonderful. When a book starts being mutinous, that’s good. Remember early punk music. Is that a sung? Well, you’re dancing! I enjoy that meaning .”
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