Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Interview with Portuegese Newspaper























God Bless the Europeans. They take books seriously! Here is a fairly in depth and thoughtful interview I did with Vasco Camara, of Lisbon's PUBLICO.

Vasco's a movie and book critic so there's a lot of stuff about both.

(And if you're just joining us, I wrote a book called Paranoid Park and it was made into a movie by Gus Van Sant and both are being released this week in Lisbon.)


A couple of years ago, I talked to Gus Van Sant about Portland. It was the year of Elephant. And he said something like this: “It’s a place with lots of sky” (there’s lots of sky in his movies, that’s for sure); “and, since it’s not New York, it’s not in the center of things, people are really smart, in a strange sort of way”. So, tell me your version of Portland. Is there a “scene” or something? (Another director, Todd Haynes, moved from New York to Portland…).

I think Portland has a darkness and gloom to it that is unlike anyplace I’ve ever seen. It also feels like it’s on the end of the earth. It is on the furthest border of “western” civilization. It is an outpost, far out in the woods, far away from anything. In this way it is very dark and fatalistic in my mind. And grim. But it also has an Asian influence. It is closer to Japan than it is to Europe. So there is a sense of zen in the air. And a strange positiveness, that is alien to Westerners.

There does appear to be a lot of interesting people here right now. Not just directors but also musicians. Maybe it’s Portland’s time right now.


How did your upbringing, and the city itself, reflects in your work, in “Paranoid Park”. What are we talking about here: memories of your adolescence adapted to the present?

In all my books for teenagers I am using emotional memory. How it stung to be rejected by friends or romantic interests. How hard it is to live in a family as a young man. In my case how I first learned I could be by myself and be okay. But I also study Portland as a city and as an urban environment. Even when I live away from it, I visit it often. I go to the new places that the kids go. I see what’s going on. What kind of street stuff is going on, what kind of music, what people care about. So I try to combine those two things.


How do you keep up to date with what’s happening with the kids? Did you do any research for “Paranoid Park” in order for your novel to have street credibility? I know that there’s no skate park with that name, but are you inside the “skate scene” of the city

The Burnside Skate Park, which is the real Paranoid Park, has been there for years and is really a fascinating place. It was built by local kids and maintained and for many years it was one of the greatest skate parks in the world. I discovered it years ago when I was riding around on my bike. It has been there a long time. Most kids in Portland know about it. Skaters all over the world know about it.


I’m asking this because in your work you have novels for adults and novels for “kids”, let’s call it like that. Do you recognize any difference between the two categories, do you put yourself in a different position when writing a novel “for adults” or a novel “for kids”? Where does “Paranoid Park” fit?

I always put myself in the position of the kid. For me writing is kind of like acting. I get myself deep in the skin of the person and then I set out into the world, as that person, and see what happens to me. It’s like when you’re a child and you’re playing Star Trek and you tell your friends “I want to be Spock” and then the rest of the day, you do things that Spock would do, but you also do them as you would do, trying to be Spock. So when I write a book like Paranoid Park. I just make myself that kid, then I write the story as it would unfold, looking through his eyes.


I read in your site that you consider adolescents in America, today, more conservative, more apolitical. Would you develop this in view of the dilemas of the main character in “Paranoid Park” – I remember that dialogue about the fact that there are more things in the world, “in Iraq”, for example, than what’s happening in our small lives.

Do kids today understand that terrible things are being done to maintain their extravagant American lifestyle? I sort of thing they do. But they are spoiled and selfish and they don’t care. But that’s natural, they’re kids. It’s the nature of the young to be selfish.


Are you religious? The existence or absence of God is a theme that appears, like a cloud, in your novel (and it’s absent from the Gus Van Sant film I think). This and the references do Dostoievesky, both Crime and Punishment and Notes from the Underground, drives your narrative, which is told like a very smooth surface, even with its accidents, to the verge of a methaphysical abyss, where we are left suspended. Do you agree with that?

Yes, I do. Thank you for such an intelligent reading. I never think about my own religious views when I’m writing. I think about what the character would think. So in terms of God, I think this kid is probably growing up without any consistent religious background, because that’s pretty common in America. And yet, despite all the confusion, Americans do believe in God, and have the sort of basic spiritual foundation of: they pray to God when something really bad happens, and don’t think about it most of the other time. In the book, the kid calls out to God in the most obvious way in the shower and I thought it was cool how Gus did his own version of the shower scene with the super slow motion and the ambient music, etc. Maybe that’s Gus’s way of calling out to God! Anyway, it was a great scene. I think that was my favorite scene in the movie.


How did Gus Van Sant approach you in order do adapt your novel? I guess you knew his work, so what do you think about the way he adapted “Paranoid Park”? Specifically: why do you think he told the same story you tell by reversing the time of the events?

He had been interested in another book of mine Rock Star Superstar. And right after that I finished Paranoid Park. And I thought he would like it. So I sent it to him. I didn’t have much input after that but when I saw the film I was sort of blown away by how great it was. From that moment on all questions of: did it follow the book? Did it tell the same story? are irrelevant. All you want when someone adapts your book, (all I want anyway) is for them to make something original and interesting from it. So I was completely satisfied.

As for the time sequence, I heard someone at Cannes say that Gus had originally edited it in a more straight chronological order, but then decided to do it in a less linear way. I know he did “time loops” in Last Days and Elephant. I like the “messing with time” thing. I think one reason this is popping up in the arts is because we as humans may have run out of time and so now we are pretending that it doesn’t exist, or it doesn’t go in a straight line. I think we are in denial probably.


I think you could tell that the film is more “clean” than the book. I think that comes from the fact that Van Sant always adapts a kind of exterior look, whereas you want us to be inside the kid’s character. Another thing: there’s almost a kind of classical or timeless characteristic in your book (the accident on the train has something of the very nocturnal films of the 40s for me), while the Van Sant film is very “today”. Do you agree with that?

I didn’t notice that the film was that clean. I thought it was very Portland in its darkness and it’s . . . mood. No, I guess I disagree. I thought Gus and I were seeing it pretty much the same way. I know Gus has hopped trains and so have I, so we both are thinking of that as something a contemporary person might do. It is an interesting point though. It’s such “noir” subject matter. And yet I am not a fan of “noir” at all. I’m more coming at it from the Doestoyevski angle.


You confess in your site your admiration for American Psycho. Did you identify with that generation? Who are your references in the literary world?

I have always liked the less traditional stuff more than the really middle of the road stuff. Which makes it very hard to survive as a writer in America. There are no Michel Houellebecq’s in America. And young writers who are trying to write in the tradition of Henry Miller or Charles Bukowski, or anyone like that, are forced to self-publish or rely on small presses. If you want to make a living as a writer in America you have to find clever ways to sneak your artsiness into your books. You have to appear to be writing normal books about normal people. As someone once said about Hollywood movies: “you can be as artsy as you want, just don’t get caught.”

By making the reference to Notes from the Underworld, adopting the diary as a narrative, are you trying, as Dostoyevsky was, I guess, to make the character of the kid as a representative of a generation?

No, but I did try to make him ordinary, and give him the most universal characteristics I could. So in a way, maybe I was trying to do that. But is his dilemma a metaphor for the plight of his generation? I don’t know. Now that I think about it, maybe it is.