Sex, Politics: An Interview with Eric Beeny

The real and the unreal have always taken up force against each other in the words of Eric Beeny. Childlike wonder demands its presence; words are cut to a short lease so the whole story doesn’t spill over. Many times his stories are fairytales that were shoved into a 40oz and shaken in violence. By way of reading we drink. We get drunk. We piss out inescapable lines to our friends.

The first release I read of his was the chapbook Snowing Fireflies last year. It captivated me. The world being reflected felt surreal, yet in my grasps at the same time. I liked that feeling. I call it the “throw a Tonka Truck at the sun” feeling.

Since Snowing Fireflies and the praise it clutched up (fucking deservingly so) Beeny has continued to write and be published in an almost breathless fury of poetry, collections, and novellas. Recently Beeny released two very colliding collections (Pseudo-Masochism & How Much The Jaw Weighs) under his own imprint Anonymosity Press. They have now both sold out.

Being the flag waver of self-publishing I am I wanted to talk to Eric about releasing his work solo. I also wanted to talk about the human ideas and nature of our being behind these collections.

Due to editing deadlines on his upcoming novel Lepers and Mannequins, out this month on Eraserhead Press, time ran on aspects of our e-mail interview. As we talked about politics and the idea of great change people began to file in to Wall Street taking up residency. The frame of our words shifted.

Why publish these two collections yourself?

Pseudo-Masochism was originally accepted to be published as a chapbook by Medulla Publishing last year. It was slated to be published this past February, but unfortunately that never happened. I decided, rather than try to find another publisher for the chapbook, I would just publish it myself. Then I thought, why just publish it as a chapbook? I had all these love/sex poems lying around in various manuscripts on my computer or in notebooks, so I chose what I liked best from the heap and arranged them (with some new pieces I’d written) into a full-length and decided to publish it myself.

How Much the Jaw Weighs is a collection I’d written during the Bush Jr. presidency—in many ways responding to it. Over the years, I’d sent various versions of the manuscript out to contests and some other non-contest publishers, but never won any of the contests or even heard from some of the other publishers. Melville House is probably the biggest publisher I sent a version of How Much the Jaw Weighs to, and I actually got a page-long response about it, but they ultimately said they couldn’t publish it. So, rather than continue trying to find a publisher for this, I decided to publish it alongside Pseudo-Masochism. Sex and politics. It made sense to me.

Now, when self-publishing becomes a route for most authors, they play it on the safe side, financially speaking, opting to focus on digital and hand-made stapled books, but you went all out making fully bound releases. What made you go that way?

I actually did several handmade chapbooks some years ago to hand out at readings, containing lots of the poems that appear in both these collections. In 2009, I self-published two e-books of some of the poems from How Much the Jaw Weighs (Watering the Fires and Gargling Cinderblocks). I really wanted to see these as full-length print collections, though. I wanted to hold them, flip through the pages. I love chapbooks, but they do have an ephemeral quality about them. Full-length, perfect bound books, to me, feel more real, or something, more ‘legitimate’ (an utterly ridiculous idea). I’m really happy with the work I put into writing these two books. I wanted to share them with anyone who wanted to read them, and make a little money doing something I love, for once.

How Much The Jaw Weighs is focused on politics and social ills, and as you’ve remarked much of it was written and inspired during the Bush Jr. presidency, but honestly it holds up in the time lapsed and is still very relevant. Did you orchestrate it all together so time of reading wouldn’t matter, or is this the result of the political climate still very much the same?

This is because human nature doesn’t change. Politics and war and greed and racism and sexism and class stratification and religious conflict will unfortunately always exist because people are generally narcissistic and psychotic. Rarely are they empathetic, rarely do they consider the needs and rights of others (at least when in a position to actually do something about those problems). Human history is a litany of one group of humans doing anything they can to destroy another group of humans because the first group wants something the second group has, or they don’t share the same beliefs and so the first group feels afraid of everything they don’t understand about the second group and the only way to feel safer is to destroy the second group, etc. From an evolutionary standpoint, the instinct of self-preservation (whether it be merely the self or the self’s immediate group) is perfectly rational and sane. But humans can’t seem to reconcile the idea that other humans want the same things they do, that other humans feel the same things they do, that maybe hurting other humans (physically, emotionally, politically, economically, etc.), for whatever reason, is not such a good idea. Nationalism, patriotism, religion, absolutism, exclusivity: These abstract concepts make people lazy, complacent and arrogant, allow them the ‘freedom’ to relinquish personal responsibility for their actions and the consequences of their beliefs.

The Bush presidency was definitely a catalyst for me to write this book, but you’re right that it’s bigger than Bush and his horrible, destructive, insane actions/policies as president. The after effects of 9/11 were also a catalyst. I’m not at all a patriotic American. I don’t think 9/11 was an “unprovoked attack,” as Rudy Giuliani called it. America is not a good country, it is not an innocent country (metonymically speaking). I feel nothing but empathy for what happened to the people working in those buildings, and I feel sick and want to cry a lot about what those people experienced, but Americans so often think they’re the only people in the world who suffer, and they don’t realize (or intentionally ignore the fact) that most of the suffering in the world is actually caused by America and its ‘interests’.

People on 9/11 said things like, “I can’t believe this happened to us,” or “I can’t believe this happened in America.” But America has been doing things like that to so many people in so many other countries (by America I mean the colluding business and military sectors) for so long. It’s so arrogant for Americans to think things like that shouldn’t happen here. Americans are no better than any other group of people in the world. And despite our warped ideological pride, we prove to ourselves every day we’re not better than anyone else by supporting monopolizing corporations that are ruining our lives and our environments, allowing ourselves to be conquered by an ideology that conditions us to passively accept the fact that not everyone in America has health insurance, the huge divide between rich and poor, etc. Our politicians are just as corrupt as the politicians in any other country, they don’t give a shit about us, about anything but their own careers. They’ve all long ago been co-opted, and that’s because human nature will not change. Humans (any animals hoping to prolong their survival) are greedy, and will do anything to benefit themselves. I don’t like Americans. I don’t like groups of humans in general. I don’t know.

I wrote most of these poems in my early 20’s, an angry time in many people’s lives, I think. I’ll be 31 in a few months, and I feel a lot of that anger has subsided, to some degree. At least outwardly. I’m no longer the devout atheist I once was (I’m more agnostic, though I still lean toward non-belief; I still think about the idea of [g]od all the time, and completely understand the human need to believe in something). I’ve always called the poems in this collection Poultry (chicken-shit scribblings) rather than Poetry, because I’m too chicken-shit to do anything but write about these issues. I would never join a group to protest anything because I don’t like groups. Having a daughter has also made me feel like I want more than anything to just live a peaceful life.

It seems many people are taking to a more peaceful life, even though they are more dissatisfied than ever with politics. For you your daughter plays a huge role in this switch of attitude. What do you think is driving many people to a subsided anger towards the politics of our own country?

I think everyone’s hearts are in the right place, in that everyone thinks they’re doing the right thing for themselves and their ‘country’ (an arbitrary set of boundaries which, again, makes those within those boundaries feel superior to everyone outside them). Much of the American citizen’s perception of his/her own superiority has morphed into apathy. Americans think things will always work out for them while the economic and political systems they believe in are actually working against them, no matter how they vote, no matter how much they protest. Small things might change here and there, but the entire system is designed to benefit the real criminals: Corporations. Americans know deep down that they have no real choices, that their democracy is an illusion, but they’ve been ideologically conditioned their whole lives to believe that they are just as powerful as the white men who own this country are. Americans are complacent, obliviously optimistic. I envy that. I want to feel that way. I want to feel everything is okay. I try real hard, and it’s a lot of work. I don’t know how people do it so effortlessly.

My daughter has had a giant impact on my worldview, though. She makes me want to be more optimistic, makes me want to see the world as something more positive than I perceive it to be. She’s seven, and we have wonderful conversations about human nature, religion, etc. She’s in her second year at Catholic school (not my decision). I never wanted to push my lack of belief in [g]od on her, so I never told her I didn’t believe but, when her mom’s side of the family enrolled her in Catholic school, I felt I had to tell her. She’s was shocked at first, but I couldn’t not let her know what I think, especially when she’s being bombarded by everyone in her family (her mom’s side and mine; I’m the only non-believer in my family) with religious beliefs that they themselves don’t fully understand but believe in only because they were taught to. My daughter has lots of questions, and I tell her what I think, but I also tell her that what I say is not something she has to accept (a choice she won’t be given from anyone else in her family). And I definitely make sure to tell her that she doesn’t have to accept what they teach her in religion class (not that they teach her anything; she tells me she tries asking questions but they so often don’t even allow questions, and when they do the answers aren’t really satisfying—exactly how I remember it before I was kicked out of religion class at age 11 for disrupting the class when I didn’t get answers to my questions). I want her to grow up making her own choices in what she believes. She has her own brain and should use it. If she chooses to believe in [g]od, that’s perfectly fine by me, as long as it was her decision and wasn’t forced on her. I tell her, too, that she doesn’t have to decide anything at all. She can just think about things. That’s the most important thing. For the most part I’ve given up my atheist beliefs in favor of agnosticism, because I know enough to know I know nothing.

Having captured your feelings in How Much The Jaw Weighs and seemingly moved on, do you still feel a closeness to the collection?

Yes, very much so. I wrote this collection ultimately to escape my emotions. I focused on the external world to help me cope with a very difficult time in my life. I poured my emotions into writing it, but for me the poems attempt to sharply locate the divide between emotion and belief—a divide that may not exist. All social movements rely on emotion to instill belief while acknowledging there is no difference at all between the two. People believe things because they are emotionally attached to them. They identify themselves according to them. The leaders of any social movement recruit people by manipulating their emotions, by drawing from the wellspring of people’s fears (which, even in times of relative peace and harmony, wait anxiously to burst through) in order to sway their beliefs. No matter what side of an issue a social movement takes (no matter what wing of the socio-political bird they’re a feather on), its cadre still employ a specific set of tactics designed to draw in a large constituency willing to fight for the cause. Humans act in the world out of sublimated emotional desires. They enter the world both to escape themselves and to reinforce their own ideological perspectives. People take their religious and political beliefs so seriously, and I can understand that because it’s all based on emotion. We invest so much of ourselves in our beliefs (or non-beliefs), we mold our identities around that ideological scaffolding. It’s both utterly ridiculous, and completely understandable. But I don’t like feeling affirmed in my beliefs/ideology. I want to be challenged because remaining fixed in your beliefs is how empathy dies and war is born.

How Much The Jaw Weighs brings a lot of talk of revolution to the poetic political table. The poem “Spectacles” comes to mind. Do you think any formidable and well-designed revolution could ever happen in the states again? Or is it a hippie pipe dream?

I don’t know. I like hippie pipe dreams. After every Michael Moore movie people are like, “That’s jacked up, we should change this system.” But nothing ever happens. If there are movements toward something new the media purposely ignores it or portrays it as something feeble and frivolous because it doesn’t fit in with the mainstream narrative (their narrative), and because no one is informed on the issues that affect them they don’t know to do anything. And when they do, the outpouring is so small that nothing is done to solve the problem. I mean, people are out there trying, but they’re not wealthy enough to buy their way into the legal system. There’s a movement going on in New York State right now to protest hydro-fracking in shale, and I would totally get involved but I know it’s futile because it’s not about what the populace wants: It’s about what the people who own this country want. All politicians are co-opted by corporate interests, whether they admit it or not. Hydro-fracking is an awful method of energy production because it pollutes water supply and will only lead to horrible health conditions (as it already has in so many other states where gas companies have denied their involvement in the health problems fracking causes). Gas companies are powerful. Just like any other corporation they have money and therefore political influence. The people don’t have shit. Trickle down theory is a wet leg. We’re drinking their piss. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m sure I’m not. Talk about pipe dreams.

Democracy is the hippie pipe dream, and none of us ever wake up. We’re conditioned to believe we’re free, but as Carlin always said we only have the illusion of choice, the illusion of safety. I don’t think anything big revolution-wise will happen unless everyone does something, but not everyone believes things should change because they don’t think anything’s wrong to begin with. Voting is useless because we’re always voting for the same group of people masking their ideology and intentions by party, but ultimately neither party does anything good for the people. We’re a two-party system (both of which, as I keep saying, have been co-opted by Wall Street), and any third party is not taken seriously by the media, and since no one can think for themselves they just parrot what the media says (whatever media outlet they subscribe to) and pass it off as their own opinion. Even the ‘informed’ segments of society seem to have given up, which is exactly what the politicians and corporations want. I’m disappointed in Obama. But I’m not surprised. He hasn’t really done anything he said he was going to do. Iraq and Afghanistan: still there. Guantanamo: still open. Health care: still not universal (even though our country is supposedly ‘[c]hristian’, so the poor should be looked after). And on and on. I’m a Socialist, and I don’t believe anything ‘American’ will ever work because America is capitalist and therefore people are not as important as profit. I just wish humans were nice to each other, and to themselves. I’m very happy and really excited, though, about the Occupy Wall Street movement, and other mirror movements springing up across the country. Despite everything I just wrote, I think this might be something that could potentially change the political and economic landscape for the better. I really hope that’s possible.

Now, Psedudo-Masochism is a very different book, even more than just in subject. The style becomes more poetry than the prose-poetry construction of How Much The Jaw Weighs, this book revolves around sex, which is never an easy theme to focus on. Even in a recent book review Sam Lipsyte confessed “The prospect of writing about sex creates a lot of anxiety,” where he then went on to detail the traps and false detours many writers fall into writing about carnal scenes. I feel no anxiety in the pages, just thrust for connection and climax. Where there elements (writing cliches on sex) you tried to avoid in putting together this collection?

Yes, I definitely wanted to avoid things like linguistic / phrasal cliches, but of course the subject itself is cliche. Sex is a language everyone speaks (even if they’re just talking to themselves). The collection in many ways stems from my own loneliness. But loneliness, too, is cliche. I don’t think love is something that exists for any other reason than to instigate sex which only exists to alleviate loneliness (both to find someone to not be alone with and to invent new humans to keep you company in happy ways). Writing, then, any art form, is just another kind of sex because it brings people together to share their emotions (so people aren’t just talking to themselves).

I don’t think I consciously tried to avoid any kind of ‘pitfalls’. I just wrote in a way that helped me get to some of the things I feel when I think about sex and loneliness (in often humorous ways). If it’s something others say a writer shouldn’t do for whatever reason, I’m not as concerned with that. People can make up all the rules they want, but those are people who only want to separate people into groups: Those who can do something the right way, and those who can’t. Micro-nationalism. I don’t know. I don’t think that’s what Lypsite’s doing necessarily, but when people form groups they make up rules on how to belong to those groups and those who don’t adhere to them are ostracized. It only serves to make those in the group feel better about themselves. It’s just another form of sex. It’s a porn others can only watch, one they can’t personally participate in (this, too, has political connotations).

I want to do something different with each of my books. I don’t want to keep writing the same story the same way, or the same kinds of poems. Once I get an idea for something to write, I end up writing a whole collection of that kind of poem or story, then move on. I’ve also written six novels, and each of those are very different from one another. I get bored easily writing in one mode, and want to continually challenge myself to write something new each time, if I can.

You’ve said yourself that the press you published under is make-believe in an aspect but would you be into ever self-publishing again?

I think so, yes. It of course allows an author full creative control over their content, which is a very satisfying prospect for such a solitary act as writing. That’s not at all to say I don’t think an editor’s input is extremely valuable, because I do. I just mean when you self-publish, you allow yourself the opportunity to see your writing perhaps a little more objectively, as an editor would, to learn how to view your writing from the outside. Rather, it forces you to. Not that you don’t already. Nevermind. It’s a little like the moment you show your writing to someone, like, you hand them a page of something you wrote, ask them to read it, and there’s that feeling you get sitting there waiting for them to read it, just this hyper-self-consciousness feeling of all the things that person might think, how you feel everything you meant to say with each word on that page, what it means to you, but you also feel there are bits you only now think might not work (a feeling you didn’t have reading the piece on your own because you’re now considering that person’s perception). I write music, too, and I’ve had the same feeling when I let someone hear a recording of a song I wrote. I hear it differently while someone else is experiencing it, much different from how I originally perceived it. Self-publishing in a way forces you to simulate that feeling for the sake of precision, to arouse and heighten the contradictory sensation of hyper-self-conscious objectivity. It’s neat.