1. I wanted to know what she was reading, but she looked peaceful and I didn’t want to interrupt her. Nina, the female lead in Rush’s forthcoming novel, has a compulsion where she must know “exactly” what other people are reading. “She didn’t like people who covered the books they were reading with homemade paper sleeves. She saw it as a challenge.” 2. A jazz trio played before the reading, which was a first for me. Simpson thanked them graciously, adding she once taught the cellist in a Chekhov class. This felt fitting, as Rush named the Russian realist as one of his major influences, along with James Joyce, Dostoevsky, and Joseph Conrad.

On Tuesday night, I headed out to The Hammer at UCLA to hear Norman Rush read from and discuss his forthcoming book, Subtle Bodies, with his wife, Elsa Rush, and author Mona Simpson. As I took one of the remaining seats in a room buzzing with dedicated fans and mellow jazz, I wasn’t expecting to hear some of the most valuable insights on writing I’d ever heard, but that’s exactly what happened. I felt like I got another piece of the map. I am new to Norman Rush’s work, which Mona Simpson compared to eclipses– things that “arrive rarely, but assert themselves massively.” His first book, Whites, a collection of short stories, was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize, and his following novel, Mating, won the National Book Award. Simpson dotted the author’s loaded timeline to trace the path of his success. At age eighteen he was imprisoned as a conscientious objector to the Korean War, from 1978-1983 he and his wife, Elsa, served as country directors in Botswana for the Peace Corps, and at age fifty-three he published Whites, though he had been writing novels since he was a teenager. Simpson said she loved writers like Rush whose knowledge comes from their “burning mass of experiences, rather than a ball of facts.”
Read the rest of this entry »