A Good American

Overview

Eleanor Brown, New York Times-bestselling author of The Weird Sisters, interviews Alex George, about A Good American

My crack investigative skills (and your charming British accent) tell me you're not from the United States. How does an Englishman living in Missouri come to write a book titled A Good American?
So it's true what they say about novelists and their highly developed observational skills! The title comes from a conversation that takes place early in the book, just after the grandparents of the immigrant family, Frederick and Jette Meisenheimer, arrive in America, when one of the first people they meet encourages them to be "good Americans." I decided to tell an immigration tale soon after I moved to the United States myself. Writers are often told, "Write what you know." It struck me that the experience of packing up my life and moving to another country, with no expectation that I would ever return home, was something worth writing about. And almost all people in America have a story similar to this one somewhere in their past.

In a case of life imitating art, I understand you're in the process of becoming a U.S. citizen. Are your feelings about that similar to your characters'?
Frederick and Jette react to life in America in diametrically opposite ways. Frederick adores his new country immediately, and embraces it wholeheartedly. Jette, on the other hand, is constantly longing for home. I find myself caught somewhere between the two. I love living in the United States, but I miss England every day. This is the paradox of the immigrant existence: one wants to adapt to one's new home without forgetting where one came from. And yes, I am in the process of acquiring U.S. citizenship. In the novel, when Frederick and Jette take their oaths, Jette's eyes are filled with tears as she does so. I hope I won't be crying, but I'm sure that there will be a little bit of sadness, together with the excitement. I wrote that scene years ago. It's strange that I'll be in the same ceremony within weeks of the novel's being published.

Both of our books are concerned with finding a place to call home. Why is that important to you?
I've lived in the States for almost nine years now, and I'm still trying to work out where home is for me. If you subscribe to the maxim that "home is where the heart is," then I suppose it's easy enough: home is in Missouri, where my children are. But the actuality can often be more complicated than an old adage would have you believe. Whenever I go back to England, the past rushes up and ambushes me, and I find myself overwhelmed by a strong sense of belonging. There's no escaping your roots.

What are the challenges, and the advantages, of writing a story that follows one family over the course of an entire century?
The biggest challenge was to fit the story I wanted to tell into the framework of history that was already there. I didn't have the freedom to decide when certain events happened. That was occasionally frustrating, but it was a challenge I relished. The fun part was to incorporate real people into the book—two presidents make an appearance, for example—and in fact, the twentieth century was so eventful that at certain points the book almost wrote itself. The only downside was the amount of research I had to do to make sure that I got all my facts right. I'm slightly allergic to research, to be honest. I prefer just to make stuff up.

What is your routine when you're writing?
My "day job," as an attorney, is demanding, often with long hours. But when it comes to writing, I need a regular routine. I figured out a long time ago that the only way I would be able to find a consistent time to write every day was if I got up early, when there are no clients calling, no family commitments—just me and the stories in my head. So every morning I get up at five and work for two hours before the rest of the day begins. That's why it took me five years to write this book.

Music is important in the novel, and from reading your blog and following you on Twitter, I know you're a jazz fan. If A Good American were set to music, would it be jazz? opera? boy bands?
Probably a little bit of all—okay, maybe not the boy bands. Several different types of music appear in the book. The story begins with an opera aria, and includes ragtime, bluegrass, and barbershop singing. Music, like life, is intoxicating in its variety and richness. Don't make me choose just one kind!

There are an extraordinary number of secrets in this story. Why do family members keep so many secrets from one another?
As the saying goes, you can choose your friends, but not your family. Many of us have to learn techniques to help us live with those we love the most. Secrets are often perceived as pernicious things, created by bad faith or dishonesty, but sometimes—as in A Good American—the greatest secrets of all are kept at enormous personal cost. And they are kept out of a desire not to hurt others. They are an act of love.

Which books or authors have had a strong influence on your writing?
There are many, many wonderful writers whose work I admire and love. It's impossible to give anything approaching a comprehensive list, but here are a select few, in no particular order: Salman Rushdie, for the richness of his imagination and the strange glories of his language; Julian Barnes, for his faultless elegance; Lorrie Moore, for her luminous prose; John Updike, just for being John Updike, but especially for the Rabbit books; John Fowles, who first showed me (in The Magus) the magical ability the best books have to transport you to another world; Richard Powers, whose books taught me to raise my ambitions when I sit down to write; and John Irving, who always told the best stories.

AN ADDITIONAL CONVERSATION WITH ALEX GEORGE
You’re an Englishman living in middle-America, who has written a novel about what it means to be an American. How did this come about?
I come from a family of journey-makers. My mother was born and raised in New Zealand. In her early twenties she took a boat to England, met my father, and decided to stay. A few generations earlier, her great-grandparents had made the trip in the opposite direction, eloping from their English families who disapproved of their union, and hoping for freedom in the wilderness of the southern hemisphere. I left England to live in America because my former wife is from here. Like my characters Jette and Frederick, the impulse that fueled all our journeys was the same: love.
My experience of coming to America was the principal driving force behind the original idea of the novel, although of course as the book developed other themes emerged, particularly the question of how easy it is (or isn’t) to escape from your roots. Various characters in the novel are intent on leaving, but they all get pulled back in the end.
You’re an Oxford-educated lawyer, born and bred in England, who suddenly found himself living in Missouri in 2003. Do any of your experiences echo the Meisenheimers and was there a culture shock?
I moved to Missouri after thirteen years living and working in London and Paris. Was there culture shock? Oh yes.
I live in Columbia, Missouri, which is a thriving, vibrant college town with a strong cultural life – we have a world-renowned film festival, a first-class jazz series, a blues and barbecue festival…I could go on. However, when you get out to the smaller towns in more rural areas, it is a different story. There are good, salt-of-the-earth people living there, but it can feel as if I have landed on another planet, rather than just another continent. I’m sure people look at me and think the same thing – that I’m an alien in more than simply the legal sense. Sometimes, I will admit, I get very homesick.
This book will prompt readers to think of their own family heritage. Given that websites like Ancestry.com are extremely popular these days, why do you think Americans are so fascinated in discovering where their ancestors come from?
I have lost count of the number of times that people, on hearing my accent, have told me about trips they have made to visit cemeteries in England to see the graves of their ancestors. I understand this urge to discover one’s roots, and I think this enthusiasm for discovering one’s ancestry is especially strong in America, because it is such a young country, relatively speaking. (I grew up in a house that was built more than two centuries before the Declaration of Independence was signed.) Americans are proud to be American, but they are proud of their heritage, too. People want to know how they got here, and where their families came from. I hope that’s why this book will strike a chord with many readers. As James says in the book, “We cannot exist without our histories; they are what define us.”
Music, particularly opera and jazz, one a thoroughly European art form and the other completely American, figure prominently in your novel. Why are these particular types of music so meaningful for you?
I have always been a huge jazz fanatic. The spirit of improvisation, the excitement, the flat-out joy that I get from listening to great musicians play jazz, especially live – these are wonderful things about this music, gifts that I cherish.
I love opera, too, rather to my children’s chagrin. I was introduced to it twenty years ago and fell in love with it immediately. The music is sometimes jaw-droppingly beautiful. And the drama! The stories! Given Frederick’s extrovert personality, it seemed inevitable to me that he would be an opera singer, rather than a performer of Lieder, for example. And that he would give full rein to his dramatic instincts.
You are currently in the process of applying for American citizenship. How do you feel about the process? Also, how do you identify with the word “immigrant”?
I have mixed feelings about the process, I will admit. I love living in America. I have a deep and abiding respect for the principles upon which this country was founded. But I am not American. I am an Englishman. I know how Jette felt when she stood in the courthouse during the swearing-in process. I understand her tears. As this book nears publication it is interesting to find myself so precisely in the position of conflict that I have put my characters through.
I have no problem with the word “immigrant”. It is what I am. I grew up somewhere other than here. I know that my experience of coming to America has been easier than many, because I speak English and have white skin. It would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise. But even I have experienced some jaw-dropping bigotry, if not outright racism, and from the most unexpected quarters. I say this without rancor. For some, the word “immigrant” is freighted with suspicion, and hatred – which seems ironic to me, because this is a country full of immigrants. We all came from here from somewhere, and now we’re united by this large rock we live on. Sometimes we could all benefit from remembering that.
What writer or writers have had the greatest influence on you?
There are many, many wonderful writers whose work I admire and love. It would be nice to think that their talents influenced me in some way, because my own writing could only improve as a result. However, it’s probably a more accurate statement to say that they inspired me rather than influenced me. It hardly seems fair to blame them for my shortcomings.
Of course, there are far too many writers to give anything approaching a comprehensive list. So here’s a select few, in no particular order: Salman Rushdie, for the richness of his imagination and the strange glories of his language; Julian Barnes, for his faultless elegance when putting one word in front of another; Lorrie Moore, for her luminous prose; John Updike, just for being John Updike, but especially for Rabbit; John Fowles, who first showed me (in The Magus) the magical ability the best books have to transport you to another world; Richard Powers, whose books taught me to raise my ambitions when I sit down to write; and John Irving, who always told the best stories.
What do you hope readers take away from your novel?
I started the book with one simple overarching aim: to tell a really good story. I hope I have done that. It would be nice to think that the characters might linger awhile with the reader, that their stories and adventures strike a chord. Good storytelling is about making connections, pulling readers into your world and taking them on a journey. I hope I have connected. I hope people enjoy the trip.
Who have you discovered lately?
Peter Geye’s first novel, SAFE FROM THE SEA, was a beautiful and moving portrayal of love between father and son that has stayed with me long after I finished it. Geye writes with brilliantly lucid economy and I can’t wait to read more of his work. I also really enjoyed DIRTY MINDS, by Kayt Sukel, which takes a fascinating and irreverent look at love and lust, from a neurological point of view. It’s a compelling read, full of interesting nuggets of complex research that the author turns into information easily understood by non-scientists like me. It’s extremely funny, too. Highly recommended.