A note from Julia Apitzsch, who kindly provided the translation:
The following interview is a translation of the German article "'Vielleicht sehe ich einiges klarer und früher als andere.' Der amerikanische Schriftsteller Don DeLillo über die prophetische Kraft seiner Bücher, den 11. September, Freundschaft unter Autorenkollegen und seinen neuen Roman 'Cosmopolis.'" from the Frankfurter Rundschau. Since the original (oral) interview was translated for the German print version, this is a mere re-translation of the German text and should thus not be mistaken as a direct quotation of Don DeLillo. If you want to cite it please refer to the German article (bibliography given below). I translated it just for sharing it with DeLillo fans whose German isn't much better than Jack Gladney's.......Enjoy!
"Maybe I see some things more clearly and earlier than
others"
The American author Don DeLillo on the prophetic power of his
novels, September 11, friendship among fellow writers, and his
new novel Cosmopolis.
Interviewer: Peter Henning
Frankfurter Rundschau, 20th November 2003, No. 271, p.
28-29.
FR: Mr. DeLillo, are a you specialist in catastrophes?
DeL: (laughs). Well, I hope not. But there are people who
say my books have a prophetic quality. Your question is aimed
at my new novel Cosmopolis and September 11, right?
FR: Is there a connection?
DeL: On that ominous September 11, the book was almost
done and even weeks after the event I didn't feel I had to change
anything in Cosmopolis. And why should I ? After all, the
book is set in 2000, and there was no reason to shift it to the
present or to react to what had happened. Nevertheless, my book
deals with the events of September 11 on a deeper level.
FR: For example?
DeL: In my novel I describe an economic collapse, the breakdown
of the Yen. I was particularly interested in two things: first,
what effect does such a shock have on people, above all on brokers
and players like Eric Packer and second, the phenomena of simultaneity.
FR: Could you explain that a bit further?
DeL: While my protagonist drives through Manhattan in his
luxurious limousine, the Yen crashes down at the other end of
the world and inexorably drags him down with it.
I wanted to describe the peculiar atmosphere of March and April
2000, this enormous economic optimism. And I counter this optimism
with the crash of the stock market. Seen this way, the novel might
have visionary features as it describes a collapse and the reaction
to it. But to say that I explicitly anticipated the events of
9/11 say the collapse of a period of enormous economic euphoria
in the US through terrorist acts I hardly think so! How
could I do this? I started out simply with the idea of letting
my protagonist drive across town in one day, a person who is already
living in the future and fails to notice how susceptible he is
to the destructive mechanisms of the present.
FR: What does September 11 mean to you today?
DeL: For me it marks the actual beginning of the 21st century.
Because while the zeitgeist before the events was shaped by a
belief in the omnipresent power of money and in America's invulnerability,
which was rooted in the late 90s, that belief has now been replaced
by fear. On that day we entered a new age of fear and uncertainty.
If, up to that point in the US, we were occupied primarily with
watching the streams of money in internet cafes or at home in
front of the computer, we are now governed by different laws,
more humane ones. The collapse reactivated worries and fears that
were thought to be lost.
FR: Are you sometimes surprised yourself at how often
you anticipate history in your books?
DeL: Authors who like me take their inspirations from the
culture that surrounds them naturally aim at reflecting the spirit
of the time. The point is to show the things that are happening
in such a way that one can understand them more clearly. And maybe
I do see some things more clearly and a little earlier than others
do. For example, terrorists appear in my books again and again.
Why? Well, because they exist! They are there and I take notice
of them. Take, for example, the late 70s. That was a really dramatic
and quite dangerous period. There were continuous plane hijackings,
there was the revolution in Iran, the war in Beirut. These are
the things I wrote about at the time.
FR: In Libra you look back on history: the assassination
of J.F. Kennedy.
DeL: The fascination I felt, especially while writing Libra,
was felt by a million other people as well. Initially, many people
wanted to believe the official version of what had happened in
Dallas. And at first I felt similarly. Then I wrote the novel
and started to think about the idea of a conspiracy, not as a
masterplan while writing, but simply out of the logic of the chosen
subject. But I didn't intend to be truer than the truth. I speculated,
played out some scenarios in the book, juggled with theories,
ideas, and assumptions. Many who believed in a conspiracy thought
that Lee Harvey Oswald was an innocent man. I didn't. In the novel
and in my opinion he fired three bullets at the president. But
the crucial question for me at that time was, had there been a
second gunman?
FR: Conspiracy theories are again highly popular these
days with regard to September 11. Some voices even say that the
CIA pulled the strings. What do you say to this?
DeL: It seems like making up conspiracy theories has become
the fashion lately. Also with regard to Kennedy's assassination,
which faces its 40th anniversary these days, these voices haven't
fallen silent. I know someone who claims to have new information
from the CIA about this and all I can say is: I'm curious!
FR: In your novel Mao II you have one of the
terrorists say that there is no difference between action and
morality any more. What do you mean by this?
DeL: We live in a world where everybody can think up a
worst case scenario. But the fact that we don't act that scenario
out differentiates us from terrorists. I believe that these people
at first also differentiate between the violence they are willing
to carry out and the consequences of this violence. But at some
point they force themselves not to see that difference anymore.
And a person who is only committed to his own ideas or those of
some great resolute leader will at some point be unable to see
the difference and thus become a danger to himself and others.
This has happened over and over and will happen again and again.
FR: Keyword Iraq: It looks like the American forces
are experiencing a kind of second Vietnam. American soldiers are
dying on a daily basis in this guerilla war. How do you see the
situation?
DeL: I was against this invasion from the beginning. And
as you know there were big demonstrations against it, even in
the US. But the majority was not willing to criticize our government.
This has changed by now. I was in Los Angeles when the invasion
began and people were throwing around the slogan of a second Vietnam.
It looks like they weren't so far off the mark. For years the
US government was engaged in the so-called Cold War, but this
scenario has ceased to exist. So they looked for another enemy.
Then 9/11 happened and they couldn't immediately see anybody to
blame. But then they remembered Iraq, where there existed people
in uniforms against whom they could fight. Of course I am greatly
simplifying things, but basically that's exactly how it went.
But America lost a lot of credibility in the world through this
kind of action. It has shown its real face.
FR: But at the moment public opinion seems to be changing,
right?
DeL: Yes, the wind has changed. Actions of the government
are no longer seen uncritically. Our economy is lousy and this
even gives people who, only 6 or 8 months ago, stood firmly behind
Bush something tough to think about.
FR: In Cosmopolis your protagonist utters
the provocative question: 'Do people still shoot at presidents?'
How did people in America react to this sentence?
DeL: Oh well, that's not such a big deal. I only said aloud
what has already become commonplace: the fact that company bosses
have for some time now been more important and thus inevitably
live more dangerously than national or political leaders. And
this is what Eric means with his cynical, almost sarcastic statement.
But it's true of course.
FR: Cosmopolis is narrated in a concise,
laconic tone. In what way has your language changed in comparison
to your earlier work?
DeL: I wanted to narrate more compactly and to write shorter,
more concise sentences. And I am satisfied with the result because
nothing in the book is like anything I did before. I think this
is connected to the fact that I was very focused while writing.
In Underworld, on the other hand, I wanted to broaden consciousness,
open it up, and thus I wrote long, escalating sequences and long,
spiral-like sentences. But in Cosmopolis everything is
compact because in a certain way this compact and enclosed style
corresponds to the protagonist's character. And the fact that
the narration encompasses only one single day and is basically
set on a single street automatically makes it much denser than
my previous books.
FR: How should we imagine the creation of your books?
Do you follow a set plan or does the story develop in the course
of writing?
DeL: I have to admit that I often can't explain why a book
took a turn in this or that direction. There is this deeply rooted
impulse that makes me write. And I always seem to contrast dispersed
characters or secluded intellectuals with the anonymous mass
just think of my novel Mao II. But this is a constellation
that I become aware of only in retrospect. I follow my characters
and have to admit that I often don't know where they'll lead me
while I'm in the process of writing. At some point every character
makes his claim in a certain way and I comprehend how and where
he moves. And at some point this figure begins dictating to me
the events according to his own logic. It's often not a specific
knowledge that initiates the writing, but rather a desire to understand.
FR: The book is dedicated to your friend Paul Auster,
and he dedicated his novel Leviathan to you. Do you talk
about your work?
DeL: I am friends with many authors, and Paul and I have
been friends for a long time. But that doesn't mean we talk about
our work, no. We rather talk about other, quite ordinary things.
I talk a lot about movies and sports with Paul. We both like baseball.
I'm actually quite happy to occupy myself with something else.
But authors are very different. Some have to show parts of their
work to a friend or a critical reader while writing. I am not
one of these people, oh no. When I work on a book I don't talk
to anybody about it until it's finished. And once it's finished,
I don't have much to say about it anymore.
FR: Authors like Ernest Hemingway, Raymond Carver, or
John Cheever all revolutionized the short story in their own way.
Did you never feel the challenge of the short form?
DeL: That is a question of an author's temperament. When
I started writing I wrote only short stories, about 20 or 30 of
them. And some short stories have come along also in recent years,
eight or nine. But the difficulty with a short story is that it
has to show one single moment the crucial one so to speak.
That moment in life when something tilts, something breaks, a
door closes forever in short, something happens that can't
be corrected, a fundamental change in this or that direction.
That really demands a lot of an author.
FR: How do we have to imagine your everyday writing
life? Do you seclude yourself?
DeL: Oh, I think to shut oneself off from everything is
a mistake. Because everybody who writes needs the world around
him eventually; after all, it's where we get the impulse and the
material. I still know what's happening in the world outside while
working on a book. I start work right after breakfast, work for
two, three hours, and continue again in the late afternoon. But
I'm quite lazy. In the meanwhile I do all the things that everybody
does.
FR: Roller-blading for example or even jogging?
DeLillo: (laughs) Oh no, my engagement as a modern human
being doesn't go that far, after all. I watch a lot of movies,
meet friends and above all listen to a lot of music, mainly jazz.
I have recently had a classical period where I constantly listened
to Glenn Gould, the Goldberg Variations. I compared his two interpretations
from 1955 and the later one from 1982 and found the differences
amazing.
FR: In your novels you pay homage again and again to
the movie as a form of expressing human desire and perspectives.
In Mao II, on the other hand, you emphasize the special
power of language. Isn't there a conflict?
DeLillo: Honestly, I would of course prefer people to buy
more books rather than go to the movies. While a film can make
42 million dollars on a single weekend, these are sums a publisher
can only dream of. But the necessity to tell stories connects
literature and film like nothing else.
FR: Do you remember the first piece you wrote in your
life?
DeL: Yes, actually I remember it fairly well. I was seventeen
or eighteen and I was writing a short story that was supposed
to be like one of Hemingway's. Hemingway was really the greatest
for me at that time. And, to be honest, my fascination with him
has never entirely faded.