Rick Simonson

In Saunders Nation
September 7, 2007

Rounding the bend out of the first week of September, remnants of summer are still very much about, including late-August and early September readings that were set up along the way when it was high summer, or even before - back when 'September' seemed so distantly far off.

This weekend brings the first of the post-Labor Day authors plotted out of New York, by way of touring, in the estimable person and unique literary presence that is George Saunders.

Years of doing this work, hundreds of books that come at one in the day to day,  the year by year, and there is still the memory of how certain books land in your lap. With George Saunders, it didn't happen on the front end. His debut book of stories, Civilwarland in Bad Decline, was published by Random House (little Random) in 1996. One almost needs a genealogical chart, an intricate one at that, to recall by what permutated form the Random House field sales force was then aligned for selling - who sold what in what territory. This was before the Blues and the Greens of present day, but not unlike the present day's configuration, at least with accounts such as ours. The Random list and its distributees were divided; we would see two reps for adult titles, as we do now. The little Random rep of the time was a good enough guy - I'm sure the paperwork and reports were all done and in on time, but getting at subtleties and fineries of some edgy fiction was a bit beyond the range there.

One day in the mail there came a finished copy of a Random House title by a George Saunders. What was this? Had we ordered it? With it a small note that looked genuinely typed out, the old-fashioned way. It was a note urging attention be paid to this distinct new voice in fiction, with this book just about to land. The person writing the note was the book's editor at Random House, Daniel Menaker.

Attention was paid. The book was picked up and read. It was put down. Where was the voice of this book coming from? Is he serious? Is he ...? What? This was writing on the high wire.

It happened that shortly after this arrived, there was a visit to New York, which included the Random House offices (the Park Avenue era, I believe). It was, speaking of eras, the Ann Godoff and Co. era. John Berendt's Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was happening, Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things was about to. Other books were happening. One thing led to another and at some point, here was being introduced to Dan Menaker. Yes, the source of this wild, amazing book. He had edited at The New Yorker for years (and was/is his own fine fiction writer). Book editing was a new arena. In assessing what he had started out with, this debut collection of short stories, it was clear that its point and potential had been missed going out the gate. Some reps had sold it as kind of a southern theme park guide book. By the time I was meeting him, I knew this was some audacious new voice. His little touch, of sending these books out, had worked in getting several bookstore people's attention. (Later, someone else at little Random floor commented on the almost unpredecented sight on their floor of a Knopf editor bringing a bookseller friend down to find and meet the editor of Civilwarland.) That may say as much as anything about the publishing beginnings of one of our more arresting literary voices.

George Saunders in the decade since has published four more full-scale books for adult readers, all of them under the deft editorial hand of Sean McDonald at Riverhead. These have included Pastoralia, In Persuasion Nation, the eerie-and-too close to home allegory The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil, and now, just published, and the occasion for this weekend's visit, The Braindead Megaphone.

Published as a paperback original - and already moving briskly for us here in Seattle - this is Saunders' first book foray into nonfiction. In this he joins a few other fiction writers of note - Edwidge Danticat and Francisco Goldman coming readily to mind - doing first major works of nonfiction this season. Unlike their books, which take on single subjects, The Braindead Megaphone is a collection of essays. From taking on the level of media-ted public discourse to a hilarious account of an expenses-paid (but not always with the right timing) trip to Dubai he shows the same skewering wit, laced with a surprising (sometimes redeeming) empathy, that's there in the right places.

It should be a fun return for him here at Elliott Bay - we've had good, lively nights with him in the past - and a good way to set the fall in motion.

Posted by Rick Simonson on September 7, 2007 | Comments (0)