AND COULD THEY HEAR ME I WOULD TELL THEM (MARY BIDDINGER)

Bio: Mary Biddinger’s newest book is Department of Elegy (Black Lawrence Press, 2022). Her poems have recently been published in Couplet Poetry, The Laurel Review, and Pithead Chapel. Flash fiction has appeared in Always Crashing, DIAGRAM, Gone Lawn, On the Seawall, and West Trestle Review. Biddinger teaches at the University of Akron and in the NEOMFA program, and serves as poetry editor for the University of Akron Press. Her current project is a flash fiction novella that chronicles the adventures of two graduate school roommates living in Chicago in the late 1990s.

Book Title: Department of Elegy

Press: Black Lawrence Press

1. What is something that surprised you during the writing, editing, or publishing process for Department of Elegy?
Dept of Elegy was intended to be a contrast to my previous collection, Partial Genius, which is a volume of hefty prose poems. In this new project, I would write a bunch of small poems about ordinary things, I declared. However, those small poems ended up not being small, and had such long lines that we needed to bump the book's trim size up to accommodate them.

2. How might you describe the “experiment” or challenge of this book? What form, procedure, sound, or mystery enlivened your mind while writing?
The challenge of Dept of Elegy was honoring lived experiences and fictionalizing lived experiences at the same time. Dept of Elegy hangs out in the past for a bit, and it was tough reentering that stage of my life knowing what I know now (everything turns out okay, but not for everyone).

3. Can you discuss an edit, idea, response, or interaction with another person that helped this book find its way in the world—aesthetically, materially, visually, structurally, spiritually…?
A friend helped me realize—much to my astonishment—that Dept of Elegy is part of a multiverse that intersects with my current flash fiction project. When I finish writing a book I feel like I'm hastily moving out of an apartment. Even though I know all of my stuff is packed, I keep walking the rooms and checking the cupboards. With Dept of Elegy, however, I could leave a few key things behind for the next tenant.

4. Is there a physical place or space you associate with the poems in Department of Elegy?

There are several locations that serve as backdrop for this book, including a fictional industrial dance club that's an amalgam of real spots in Detroit, Toronto, and Chicago. I also have a few invented places that show up across multiple books, including a sports bar/burlesque joint/discotheque with the unfortunate name of "Flounder's."

5. What’s something that feels difficult about having a book—or this book, specifically—come into the world?
In this book I let my speaker be someone in her 40s complaining about how boring life is now, while acknowledging the luxury of being able to issue such complaints. Some of the poems in the book are funny—my comfort zone—but others are quite sad and maybe only to me. I've caught myself feeling overwhelmed when reading from this book. There are a few poems you will probably not hear me read ("Heaven and Its Orange Flowers" in particular).

6. What do you appreciate about the press (Black Lawrence Press) that published this book?
Black Lawrence Press has been a steadfast advocate for writers with adventurous sensibilities, and I'm honored to be an OG member of their list. One of the things I appreciate about BLP is the way that they empower the writer during the design process. Dept of Elegy has a distinct sensibility, and they worked closely with me to make sure the physical attributes of the book matched its spirit.  

7. Do you recall the most recent small press (micro, indie, DIY, university) publication you’ve recommended? What made you want to tell someone about it?
Oh gosh, I'm constantly telling people to read 300 Arguments by Sarah Manguso. I wish I had copies to hand out. Every page sends me into a hard swoon.

8. Is there a text, song, piece of art, or made thing that your book talks to, borrows from, fights with, or is in tribute to?

Since music was intrinsic to the inner landscape of the collection, I spent way too much time contemplating its private and public playlist. Narrowing down to one track, it would have to be "M.E." by Gary Numan from his 1979 album The Pleasure Principle. The opening of the song puts me at the screen door of a new poem.

One challenge with creating the public playlist for the book was including some of my favorite covers such as the Wand cover of "M.E." without dismissing the originals. Like, if someone is discovering the song "I Wanna Be Adored" they need to listen to The Stone Roses before The Raveonettes. Ultimately I ran out of time to overthink this, and tried to strike a balance between covers and originals.

9. What adventures are you looking forward to, thinking about, or practicing now?
When I was working on Dept of Elegy I was simultaneously wrestling with a prose manuscript that had overgrown its initial scope. I am almost finished writing what turned out to be the flash fiction novella about the adventures of two graduate school roommates in late-90s Chicago. I would have been done months ago, but decided to write the pandemic into it, because why not?

At the same time, I'm working on a series of prose poems that all have titles beginning with the word "Everyone" (here's a sample at Pithead Chapel). I also recently wrote a hybrid prose piece about the academic job market, which might be considered somewhere between lyric essay and autofiction. 

Finally, I'm co-editing, with Julie Brooks Barbour, a volume of essays as part of the Akron Series in Contemporary Poetics. It's called A Mollusk Without a Shell: Essays on Self-Care for Writers and is forthcoming from the University of Akron Press in spring 2024. This has been a particularly joyful process, and we can't wait to share these essays (and their accompanying writing prompts) with the world.

10. Who will you gift a copy of Department of Elegy to? Or where will you leave it for someone to find?

I have a practice of slipping a copy of my most recent poetry book onto the bookshelf whenever I stay at an Airbnb or guest house when traveling for readings. It feels like mischief every time, and I love it.

Previous
Previous

SINK: An Interview with Anisfield-Wolf Fellow Joseph Earl Thomas

Next
Next

Almost Obscene: On Translating Raúl Gómez Jattin with Katherine M. Hedeen & Olivia Lott