The gamecock. (Columbia, S.C.) 1908-2006, September 22, 1999, Encore!, Page 7, Image 21
§::i
N.C. literary
community
shares spirit of
generousity
by Martha Waggoner
Associated Press
Raleigh, N.C. — Novelist Kaye Gib
bons doesn’t recall the exact date, but
she does remember the precise feeling
she got when she read the first 100 or
so pages of a book by a new novelist.
“I can still see myself sitting on the
couch in the li
orary, siuwieu
in a sort of an
artistic shock.
It vibrated my
system,” Gib
bons says of the
pages that were
to become the
bestseller
“Cold Moun
tain” by
Charles Frazier.
Gibbons,
who had
dropped work
on her own
novel to read
Frazier’s work,
called her
agent. “I’ll be
FedExing this
to you,” she
said. Then she
called every
editor she
knew, hoping tor a bidding war.
“Cold Mountain” was published in
August 1997 by Atlantic Monthly Press
and has sold more than 1.7 million hard
back and 1 million paperback copies.
Frazier, overwhelmed by the response,
now spends much of his time in anoth
er state.
The encouragement and interces
sion Gibbons provided isn’t unusual in
North Carolina and is one reasons the
state has become a literary hotbed, be
ginning with 0. Henry, Thomas Wolfe
and Paul Green at the turn of the cen
tury and stretching to Frazier at the end.
“One thing that North Carolina has
that lifts us above the rest of the South
and explains why Georgia, Virginia
and Tennessee can’t begin to compare
to the flood of good writing that’s going
on here: It’s the community of writers
here,” says Sally Buckner, who wrote
“Our Words, Our Ways,” a textbook
about North Carolina writers for eighth
graders.
Literature, she says, “is rife with
jealous writers.
Ana it s just
the opposite
here. And the
neat thing
about it is in
supporting
each other, it’s
also spread to
the reading
community, so
it’s sort of a
writing and
reading net
work.”
This gen
erous spirit is
“why we see
now at the end
of the century
so many good,
young writers
coming
along,” says
Geoigann Eu
banks, assistant
director of Duke University’s office of
continuing education and summer ses
sion.
“I think people understand that
there’s room for all kinds of writing, and
we’ve certainly witnessed a huge, huge
range,” she says.
Writers’ altruistic nature extends
from the writing community to the state
at large, Eubanks says.
“There have been many writers in
this century who have not just been
scribes, but they have been activists
for the state, for certain political issues,
public policy, government and the phil
anthropic community,” she says.
For example, poet and journalist Sam
Ragan was the first secretary of the state
Department of Art, Culture and Histo
ry, now the Department of Cultural Re
sources. John Ehle helped establish the
N.C. School of the Arts while working
with Gov. Terry Sanford and also was
involved with the Ford Foundation and
the National Council for Humanities.
And Wilma Dykeman was a pioneer en
vironmentalist, feminist and civil rights
activist.
For those writers, the North Car
olina Writers Network, with its 1,800
members, offers conferences, seminars
and one-to-one critiques. It also spon
sors the North Carolina Literary Hall of
Fame, begun in 19% at Weymouth Cen
ter in Southern Pines.
Writers teach at universities and com
munity colleges, encouraging a new gen
eration of writers, and writers help writ
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Gibbons also was the beneficiary of
someone else’s interest when Louis Ru
bin Jr., then a teacher at UNC-Chapel
Hill, encouraged her.
“He helped teach me to read from
a writer’s point of view and ask ques
tions," she says. “Why does this metaphor
work? Why did the writer choose this
narrator? So when I read, I tear things
apart. It takes me forever to read a book.”
Writers who teach have helped
schools with one kind of reputation —
as a teachers school or agricultural
university — develop another kind.
Peter Taylor and Randall Jarrell in
the 1930s and 1940s, and now poet lau
reate Fred Chappell, did that with UNC
Greensboro; Lee Smith, Tmi McLaurin
and John Kessel did the same at N.C.
State University.
“Hie great thing about Fred’s promi
nence is he’s on a campus that got there
fust in North Carolina in a real effort to
remake itself from a normal school, to
stop being a teachers college and be
come a comprehensive college,” says
Jim Uark, director ot humanities ex
tension/publications at N.C. State Uni
versity.
Other schools already had their lib
eral aits heritage; the writers helped seal
it. William Blackburn taught Reynolds
Price and Jim Applewhite at Duke Uni
versity; at UNC-Chapel Hill, Rubin
taught Gibbons and others, while Doris
Betts led McLaurin and Randall Ke
nan by her example.
Betts is so beloved that a $ 1 million
creative writing professorship has
been established in her name, the first
in the state.
Some writers teach for the money,
but Chappell says he thinks most teach
because they love it.
“In my particular case, for the past
five years, I would have made more mon
ey if I had quit teaching and just writ
ten,” he says. “But in order to do that,
I would have to quit teaching, and 1 would
' have to give up poetry, and I refuse to
do either one, no matter how many re
quests I get.”
Linda Hobson, president of the N.C.
Waiters Network, credits the explosion
of writing in the state in the last 30 years
to a strong university system that sup
ports writing.
Being a writing teacher who is pub
lished “gives authority to what they say,”
she says. “The confidence that comes
from publication also works down in the
person’s teaching. And that filters down
to the student — here’s a guy who knows
what he’s doing.”
In McLaurin’s case, Betts gave him
the confidence that if he wanted to write
about people who live in east Fayet
teville and drink hard and cut each
uuici, men uc miuuiu.
“As long as you write about it with
as much truth and integrity as you could
muster, that’s what you should write
about it,” he says. “So I took that to
heart, and I try to do the same thing as
a teacher.”
And now, Southern writing is taught
all over the world, Betts says. “People
assume regional writing means down
home writing,” she says. “It’s not true.
I think Southern writing does touch
something universal.”
Another reason for the spurt of cre
ative writing in North Carolina is the
state’s changing sense of self.
“We’re changing so much, and
whenever you change, you stop and look
around, ” Buckner says. “I also think you
explain the Southern renaissance by say
ing we lost the war. Whenever you lose
anything, you tend to examine yourself
So I think that has made us more intro
spective.”
Conflict, not tranquility, begets cre
ativity, and North Carolinat has seen its
share of that, McLaurin says.
“North Carolina has always been on
the cutting edge of what’sgoing on,” he
says. “Some of the earliest civil rights
stuff happened here in North Carolina.
We’re pulled between the Deep South
and the New South, as you see with all
the immigration of people.”
Annthpr reason* North Carolina ic
recently literate by many standards, and
books are exciting to new readers, Chap
pell says. “We’re reaping the harvest of
the ’40s and ’50s now.”
So what’s ahead for the next centu
ry? Thanks to Buckner’s book, the state
will be blessed with students who have
studied homegrown writers.
“This means we will have, for the
first time, a generation of students
who have studied the literary culture of
the state,” Clark says. “As those stu
dents grow into adulthood, they wirr
bring with them a more systematic con
nection with North Carolina writers than
any earlier generations brought.”
m_■
N.C. author, Kaye Gibbons.