The Real Interview

After having been stood up by Johan Harstad and writing about it thus, I sent the article to my editor. She loved it, and figured we could publish it as long as I made a few changes so it would stick closer to the theme of icons. I also decided to send Harstad himself a copy, asking for a “facts-check”, and also because I was curious to know what had happened. Despite what I’d written I figured he had a good excuse, so I wasn’t actually too worried. I told him to let me know if he didn’t want the article published though.

And the reply I got… I won’t translate here. Suffice to say, he apologised profusely for having simply and completely forgotten (!!), asked me not to publish the article (though admitted I was perfectly entitled to do so if I wanted), and suggested that we could perhaps try again. He was so apologetic and perturbed that I started to feel bad for having written about it! So, with mutual assurances of starting afresh, we settled on a date and time for a new interview.

The interview took place a few weeks ago, incidentally at the same café where I had written him the initial letter. (There’s a nice circular narrative for you…) As I’ve mentioned, it was supposed to be about “icons”. I felt quite well prepared, at least in the sense that I have read all his books at least once, some several times, and I knew what kind of questions I could ask, what “iconic” figures show up in his work, etc. I should also mention that in Norwegian, the word “icon” has an even more positive connotations than in English – it is closer to “hero”, or “idol”, at least in the meanings that are not religious or regarding symbols on a computer screen. It’s a manyfaceted word, and I thought that in itself might contribute to making the interview interesting.

In some ways, it did. In other ways, it completely stuffed things up. Turns out that somewhere along the line, he had twigged on to me calling him an icon, or quite possibly my icon; when I said it in the letter I was exaggerating and at the argument meeting I was joking, but he can’t have noticed the hyperbole or the joke; or either way it was clearly not an “honour” he was very comfortable with. His reaction when I brought up “icons” was one of horror and mild disgust, some embarrasment and a fair dose of modesty. I felt mortified. I had meant to ask him about icons in general, not what he thought of himself as an (/my) icon! But since he took it that way (which I guess in some ways was fair enough; the interview was to be about him too), and we thus clearly hadn’t started as completely “afresh” as I was thinking we had, I had a lot of trouble bringing the topic up again. I did ask (again, later) what he thought about icons in general, and also (even later, when I’d regained my mental balance enough to joke) whether he had any personal icons/idols/heros/favourite authors. But mainly, I let him talk.

Which, thankfully, he happily did. And this is the positive side to the story – I really really enjoyed listening to him. He had lots to say: about literature in general – its obligations to the public, what he thinks an author can and can’t do as far as moralising goes – and about his books specifically; about how authors and musicians and anyone creative steal and borrow ideas from eachother (and that is a good thing); about what his parents and other people have thought about his books (the world keeps going under, which must be a bit disturbing for a parent); about global warming (just a few sentences) and people who disappear; about theatre; about knowing (or not knowing) the stories about your characters that do not end up being told; about writing; about psychology/psychiatry; about music (he despises The Cardigans); about Buzz Aldrin, snails, oranges… the list goes on. Admittedly I was expecting it to develop into more of a conversation, but for some reason I was quite tonguetied through the whole hour.

Initial embarrasment at his bringing up the Letter might explain some of my muteness, but not all. Neither was I starstruck dumb, he seemed too normal and friendly for that, and it wasn’t as if I didn’t have anything to reply – so many of the topics he touched on are ones that I could discuss for hours!  I think it must have just been a combination of his own willingness to talk, and my role as interviewer, ie listener. A role that is not that unusual for me, but generally I also butt in with my opinion far more often than might be ideal.

Anyway. I was listening so intently that I completely forgot to take notes, and when the interview (which should be called “the Harstad talking and Hanne occasionally offering a comment or (even more occasionally) a question -hour”) was over I sat there, head spinning, and tried to write down as much as I could remember. Which was actually almost all of it, I think. Don’t I wish I could have such excellent recall for lectures as well! :-p

Despite the fairly extensive notes, and my overall happiness with how it all turned out (he also gave me signed copies of all his books! *thrilled*), the writing up of this real interview has been an utter pain. I so badly want it to turn out good, but nothing seems sufficient, every sentence is wrung out of me like blood from a stone, and every time I decide on yet another part that I’ll have to leave out, it hurts. To make matters worse, I’m writing in Norwegian. And it’s exam time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m the only one who’s making myself spend so many hours on it – argument is run almost completely by unpaid writers and editors, so no one can force me to do this – but I just can’t seem to leave the article alone until I’m perfectly happy with it. (Or until deadline, which may be sooner. :-p)

As a result of this perfectionism (I seriously didn’t think I was that badly inflicted; usually writing articles is a joy, and done in 4 hours (including proofreading) max), I also can not get Harstad and “icons” out of my system. Which is, perhaps in sort of backwards logic, why I am blogging about it. Part of what bugs me is the way the article can only show a small sliver of the story; the most annoying sliver, like a splinter in my toe; the tiny little chip of the whole that was about icons. There was so much more to it, there are so many more fascinating things I could talk about!

But those things will probably only be told to “de spesielt interesserte” – I realise most of you couldn’t care less, and have no idea who or what I am talking about. Oooh wwwweeell.

THE END.

(Well, almost. Once this article is done! Argh.)