Tight Spots

Author, Author: Tobias Wolff sees the dignity of the human spirit

Photo by Mary Ettlinger

The appeal of the underdog

By David Templeton

Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This time out, he sees the charming new film Palookaville in the company of Tobias Wolff, the author of This Boy’s Life and many other works.

FRIDAY MORNING, the day before I am to meet with the award-winning author Tobias Wolff, I receive a call from the New York­based writer, confirming our “movie date” in San Francisco.

“Tell me again. What film is this?” he asks.

“It’s called ,” I respond, and begin to describe the storyline.

“Stop. Don’t tell me anything else,” he interrupts, kindly but firmly. “Just tell me if it’s supposed to be any good.” I reply that Palookaville–based on short stories by the late author Italo Calvino, a consummate master of the short-story form–has indeed received excellent word-of-mouth. “Good. Good,” he says. “That’s what I wanted to know.” And our conversation concludes.

The next day, as we exit the theater and stroll toward a nearby cafe, Wolff explains his aversion to knowing too much before seeing a movie.

“I like to be surprised,” he acknowledges. “If I’m in a theater and there is a preview for a film I’d like to see someday, I’ll leave until it’s over. As a writer, it’s very important to me that things come to my readers in a certain order, at a certain tempo. I am operating in the realm of that reader’s ignorance of what I’m doing.

“And I pay that compliment to moviemakers. I think that the best of them go to the same lengths to have their movies–the works of art that they make–reveal themselves, as the moviemaker believes they ought to.”

TOBIAS WOLFF, like Italo Calvino, has been called a master of the short story–by no less a master than the late short-fiction writer Raymond Carver. Though best known as the author of autobiographical works–the truthfully horrifying This Boy’s Life (Atlantic, 1989; made into an excellent film in 1993) and the Vietnam-based In Pharaoh’s Army (Knopf, 1994)–it is with his short stories that Wolff first came to prominence. His newest collection, The Night in Question (Knopf, 1996), offers 15 absorbing, often humorous tales of ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinarily tight spots. In compassionate and straightforward language, Wolff deftly examines the weird, tiny turning points on which our destinies spin.

Similarly, Palookaville is the tale of three ordinary urban underdogs, out of work and on the skids. Desperate for a break, they hatch endless schemes while flailing their way through various familial and romantic relationships. It is charming, eccentric, and very funny.

“I liked it a lot. It had a very pleasing touch,” Wolff says, tossing a trio of almonds into his mouth as our lattes arrive. “It was cartoonish, of course. The title tells you that it’s going to be. At the same time, it’s all very genuine. You felt these people all living on the edge. You looked around this place that they live in, and you understood why. There’s nothing there! There’s no work. It’s a horribly devolved culture, because of the economic hopelessness these people live in. The illegalities to which they turn are not all that funny, but it’s inevitable for a certain number of people.”

After a brief tangential discussion of underdog cinema–films such as Pulp Fiction, Fargo, even Rocky–I confess to my guest that I hold an enduring fondness for underdogs.

“We all do,” he laughs. “We identify with underdogs. I think it’s probably the case that even overdogs think of themselves as underdogs.

“We need to believe that no matter what circumstances are arrayed against us, we can overcome them,” Wolff adds. “That, by grit and will and the power of our resolve, we can overcome whatever hand is dealt to us. I think that is a notion that is very dear to us as Americans, because we are turning this country, very steadily, into a tremendously large collection of underdogs. And as we do this, we embrace more and more the mythology that it is only the underdogs’ fault that they are underdogs.

“Of course,” he says, “we really like movies about underdogs who get over it, get past it, empower themselves, and take responsibility for their circumstances. I don’t think we much like movies and books about underdogs who stay underdogs–which is what most [of them] do.

“It buys into our desire to have comforting myths about how all this works and what our responsibilities are. Our ‘responsibility’ now is merely to encourage them to take responsibility for themselves. As our brothers and sisters,” he adds wryly.

And what about Palookaville? Are there moral truths here that add anything to the underdog myth?

“Oh, I think its message is simple,” he nods. “What it’s saying, basically, is that poverty and hopelessness beget cynicism and crime–but do not make it inevitable. That such circumstances create a fertile ground for it, but that there is a human will that can refuse it–even when pushed to the wall.”

From the November 14-20, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Penis Envy?

Making Whoopi: Whoopi Goldberg stars as Wall Street whiz Laurel Ayres who, in order to get ahead, passes herself off as the associate of a powerful investment counselor in “The Associate.”

Photo by K.C. Bailey

Karen Salmansohn begs to differ

By David Templeton

Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies.. This time out, he discusses the gender-bending big-biz flick The Associate with Karen Salmansohn, the author of an eyebrow-raising new book for women in business.

KAREN SALMANSOHN, a self-described “recovered award-winning senior executive/workaholic,” has just released a smart, subversively motivational book with the deliciously wry title How to Succeed in Business Without a Penis: Secrets and Strategies for the Working Woman (Harmony, 1996). Tremendously funny, it is a bold mix of inspirational messages, knowing tips learned in the trenches, and a veritable parade of potent penis puns.

As I sit by my phone waiting for the author to call from New York, it occurs to me that the film we will be discussing–The Associate, starring Whoopi Goldberg as a Wall Street whiz who invents an imaginary male business partner in order to be taken seriously–might have done well to take a cue from Salmansohn’s savvy sense of namesmanship. It could have been titled “How to Succeed in Business by Pretending to Have a Penis.” As this thought crosses my mind, the phone rings.

“I’m at a pay phone,” Salmansohn explains breathlessly. “My apartment is under construction, so I’ve been locked out. I did see the movie last night, though, with my boyfriend. I liked the pro-women message. And we laughed hysterically at the peeing scene.” She refers to a moment in which Whoopi, pretending to be her partner, Cutty, employs a bottle of mouthwash to simulate urination in the men’s room.

I remark that the movie’s message runs strictly counter to the central idea of her book–that women need not mirror men in order to be successful. Here we have a film where a woman caves in, subverting her own nature in order to get ahead.

“Oh, absolutely,” says Salmansohn. “I say in the book, ‘You don’t need a penis to succeed, you just need balls.’ Whoopi had enough balls to go ahead and do this scam, but if she was clever enough to have come up with this, she would have just faked a phone call from Cutty, and said, ‘Look, I want Whoopi to take over from here on in. She’s the real powerhouse.’ That could have cured everything.”

Of course, then we’d have missed seeing the spectacle of our star in Brando-esque drag, but it certainly would have been more inspiring. Salmansohn has other ideas for the heroine as well, such as taking her prospectus to women CEOs instead of only to men.

“I applauded her initial reaction of using whatever it took to get into the meeting, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, but there came a point when she just became a wimp,” Salmansohn notes. “Also, once she brought in some money–150 grand!–from that first client, she could have come in and confessed. In the end, you know, money is respected even more than the gender you are. Money is the ultimate power.” Salmansohn pauses a moment.

“Maybe her dreadlocks were part of her problem,” she suggests. “Possibly her stumbling block was that she looked so wild. The medium is the message, right?

“When I was in advertising I would wear a different outfit for different meetings. I was a secret agent girl. I would bring along a bag of my dungarees and a T-shirt and sneaks and stuff, and change in the ladies’ room before going to a pitch session at MTV. Then go back to the office and put on my little business suit to pitch to my other advertising clients, because I understood that people want to be with other members of their tribe. The more that you can make any person feel like they can relate to you, the better chance you have of selling them your product.

“Women are so aware of appearance and packaging from all the women’s magazines out there that we can use that to our advantage,” she continues. “It’s all about seduction. And God knows we’ve read enough articles about that. Women do have the edge on knowing how to seduce. And I don’t mean that in the sexual sense, necessarily.

“I do believe that we all have male and female in us,” she adds, “and we need to find a balance in that. You have to know when to be tough and when to be nice. You can be aggressive, whether you are a man or a woman, without being a jerk. As much as I believe you don’t need a penis to get ahead, I don’t suggest you try it without a heart–or a brain.”

From the November 7-13, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.