David Benedetto and Jerika Marchan

“Are You Going to Eat That (And Other Promising Anecdotes)” with David Benedetto

“A Compendium of Flightless Birds and Every Type of Smear” with Jerika Marchan

*indicates footnote

These spines fall. Lines in a journal laying naked before me. Titles bleed over the edges and onto the floor. I step in the puddle, a tiny universe so beautiful that my eyes sting.

I remember reading about the destruction of the Library of Alexandria and feel a need to fund an army with unethical financial sources to protect this one. Don’t tell my president.

When I sit down with my two subjects, I can hear pages rustling underneath their skin. When their fingers move, I can hear the deft tap of a typewriter key. Have you ever seen a living book? It’s intimidating. Two can be catastrophic. I’m covered in papercuts, sweet burning lines of sensory information.

The best part about being a human being is that you can talk to other human beings, creatures so wonderful that you’d think being a primate was a marvelous stroke of luck. I’m the luckiest woman of all because I get to talk to two human beings with DNA strands crafted from poetry.

“If you wrote an autobiography, what would it be called?” I asked them.

“Are You Going to Eat That (And Other Promising Anecdotes).”*

“A Compendium of Flightless Birds and Every Type of Smear.”

Listen closely. Blessings rarely come in pairs, but the universe is feeling generous.

Q: Where did you get your physical bookshelf from? I know you guys have a few different ones.

Jerika Marchan: Target! Which is why when we first moved here, we tried to prop them up. They're leaning. They're super precarious and a mixture of too poor, too reluctant, can't be bothered to replace them with bookshelves that stand up straight. They're being held together by duct tape. Or at least mine are.

David Benedetto: Yeah, hers are a little bit precarious. That's a good word for it. It took a lot, being on the second story, to get those up here. Wanting to get them down and get another set up here that's nicer is just...outside of the energy spectrum at this point.

DB: Where did I get mine from? I got mine in Mid-City across from not Circuit City, but the other place.

JM: Home Depot!

DB: Home-! Not Home Depot. Cuz Home Depot had closed.

JM: It was still open at that time.

DB: I didn't get it from there though, I got from the other electronics place that sells computer-based things. Not Circuit City cuz Circuit City isn't there.

JM: Staples?

DB: Sure, Staples!

Courtney Brandabur: Radio Shack?

JM: Office Max?

CB: Office Depot?

DB: Office Depot! Office Depot is where I got my shelf from.

CB: Yeah, I think they're all merged together now.

JM: Max Depot. (in a cool voice)

CB: (laughs) Max Depot.

 

Q: If someone saw your bookshelves, how would you feel?

DB: Ohhh. That's a good question. (hums)

JM: I guess I'll go first.

DB: Yeah, yeah, go.

JM: I wouldn't mind. I think I'd be more nervous if they plucked something and didn't put it back where they had it. Most of mine are alphabetized and they're also in a certain order that's conducive to me and how I work. So, I'd be nervous if they picked something out and didn't put it back where they found it.

Besides that, I'm of the mindset that if it's not a particular type of person, like if a stranger or someone who's not sharing my interest saw my shelf, I think they wouldn't be that interested. Most of my books are niche contemporary poetry books that a lot of people generally wouldn't be interested in, from my experience. Not so much self-consciousness there, but just assuming people's lack of interest in my interests.

DB: I kind of feel you with—we both have our books where they're for us more than for the decoration. They're there for the decoration as well because books are really lovely and we love them. Mine are a little bit more diverse in their subject matter and type. There's a lot of histories, as well as fiction and more fiction and some poetry spread throughout there. I'd hope that there's enough topics there that somebody who walked in could see something that they'd be interested in or have read or knew about. And it would lead to a conversation. That's what my hope would be.

Q: How would you describe your reading collection: in one word and then as many words as you want?

JM: One word first?

CB: You can do the long-form answer first or some people might've come back to this one to. Or as they gave their long-form answer, they pluck a keyword and they're like, "That's it!"

JM: I'd say that my one word would be direction. At this point, these books, they've taught me a lot about myself and teach me a lot about where I want to go, what I would like to accomplish with my own work, how I want to see the world. How I want to enact...my views on the world? That doesn't make any sense. (laughs) I think it gives me direction. Like, it orients me to where I need to be and where I need to go and what's important to me. So, that word.  Whassup, Muse?

DB: It's happening. It's going.

CB: She's with us. (laughs)

DB: I think reflection was what I was thinking of for my own word. The longer would be, the books I've chosen, I have maybe read, if I'm trying to be impressive, possibly `60% of them? But, if we're being realistic, probably 45% of them. I think even if I haven't read them, there are things on my list, they're reflecting what my interests are, what I'm thinking about.

Part of the reason I like having books is to—memory is not good. Unreliable at best. "So, I have a way of keeping these in my vision, keeping them in my periphery to make sure those things are on my mind. I get to take them out whenever I need them or make sure they're always somewhere back there kind of churning." That's what I appreciate.

Q: What's your favorite book on the shelf?

JM: My favorite book. Hm, let me think. My favorite book? Like, ok, my favorite book...Ah! I know. Easy, easy.

DB: Oh, yeah.

JM: It's a cop-out. (laughs) Well...Yeah, so my favorite book is the book that's meant a lot to me for the past ten years. It's this collection of Rilke, the German language master poet. Translated by Stephen Mitchell.

I started reading poetry seriously in sophomore year of high school. Actually, this book means even more to me now, because my teacher who gave me another paperback version of this book, she died a few weeks ago. Brain cancer. She was the one who gave me this book and said, "You need this in your life."

I started reading it and I was like, holy shit! Words can do this. Words can feel this way. That's why I started writing poems and reading poems. This, Rilke, this collection...It's called Ahead of All Parting. It's multilingual. It's German and French on one side and English on the other. I slept with this book. Yeah, I try not to write in it too much because I love it so much...Yeah, I probably have more of him than anybody else.

DB: I've got three. I was thinking one non-fiction, one straight fiction, and one New Orleans hybrid work, which I'm really in love with.

JM: Cop-outs!

DB: Cop-outs? Uh-huh.

JM: You pick one! Your favorite.

DB: UH-HUH.

JM: There's only one!

DB: Well, these are the ones I'm thinking about constantly each day, because I'm kind of working in these different things or thinking about these types of things. Especially being in New Orleans and being from Louisiana, a lot of these books are Louisiana-centric books. So, the book that I chose for that one is called Unfathomable City. It's edited by Rebecca Solnit, who's written a lot of really wonderful things, including Men Explain Things to Me.

CB: She's great!

DB: She did one for San Francisco initially and then she came here and worked with a woman named Rebecca Snedeker. It's a collection of twenty-two essays and maps.

The writing is beautiful for each essay and the introduction by both Snedeker and Solnit is amazing. It's changed a lot of how I feel about New Orleans and the city. I think I'd recommend it to anybody trying to find a good in way to 2015-era New Orleans. It's really wonderful.

OK, two more! My Non-Fiction pick is a history book called The Impending Crisis: America Before The Civil War 1848 - 1860 by David M. Potter. I was interested this year in doing a deep reading through all of American History and I wanted to start with Reconstruction, because I wanted to understand how we got to Jim Crow era and a lot of our modern problems with inequality and race in this country. So, before reading that I thought I better refresh myself on what led to Reconstruction--The Civil War. And then I thought I better read what led to the Civil War!  

So I stumbled on this book. It took me a while to get through, like four months because it's one of the densest books I've ever read. It has a steep curve in learning how to read the book, but how it moves through decision making and political maneuvers is really skillful and beautiful. The way it deals with major figures and events during this time period on a second-to-second, decision-to-decision basis really helps to give a clearer picture of how such a horrible event like The Civil War could happen. It wasn't zero to one hundred. It took time and multiple misunderstandings and manipulations and stupid ego driven mistakes to get us there. It takes these decisions step-by-step and puts a microscope to them. It's incredible.

And it helped me to clarify my understanding of the origins of anti-immigrant nativism and white supremacy and racism and how they've evolved to current day. It also helped me to better understand the process of how major issues are debated and how elections are performed in this country. All these things are not new and this book helped put that into better context.

The cop-out as you would say. Fiction, One Hundreds Year of Solitude by Marquez. It was a game-changer for me. Between reading that and Faulkner, just mind blown, never look at books the same again.

Q: Have you received a book as a gift?

JM:Yes!

DB: Yes!

JM: I don't publish often, but when I do in journals, I get contributor copies. I think it's always fun to get them in the mail and to see my work in a bound book with other people that I admire. Those are always the best presents.

DB: I'd say the one that I think about the most is...before I left for Europe, the book that she chose as her favorite book was the Rilke book. Before I left for Europe, she gave me a copy of that. Nice, wonderful hardback. I carried that with me everywhere I went. She wrote this really wonderful note in the very beginning. I can't remember what it is.

JM: Oh yeah! So romantic! (laughs)

DB: I carried that book everywhere. Even when I had to leave certain things behind, I made sure that was with me when I was traveling. I picked it up and would read it. So, that's one of the best gifts I got.

Q: Have you read every book on your shelf?

JM: Noooo.

DB: No.

CB: That has been every answer!

DB: I'd like to meet the person that's read every book on their shelf.

Q: If your bookshelf could talk, what would it say to you?

DB: I think mine would...at this point in my life, it might say different things at other points, but at this point, it would say, “Do the work.” I've been thinking about a lot, simply because I have taken quite a bit a break from writing. Looking at these shelves and looking at what people have accomplished, not so much for themselves but in the actual work, I think it would tell me to keep on putting in the million words, the two million words. You have something to look up to. You have some sort of plan for you. Do the work.

JM: Right. I totally agree. Mine was really similar to along those lines. I think my shelf is telling me, maybe because of where I am in my life right now because I haven't been working on the "new" stuff. The shelf is saying, "Work hard! Finish, bitch!"

CB: Yeah!

JM: Do the shit! Finish the shit!

DB: Finish the shit. #finishtheshit.

JM: (in Mortal Kombat voice) Finish her. Yeah, that's what my shelf is saying. Do the work. BE BRAVE.

DB: That's in all caps too, when you transcribe that. (laughs) BRRRAVE with three Rs.

JM: That's what the shelf says.

*Other alternative autobiography titles for David:

With All Three Cheeses: A Life

Yes, I Know The Guac is Extra

The Reason by Hoobastank

"Red" with Meagan Snedigar

“Red” with Meagan Snedigar 

What’s in a color?

My veins are blue, green, and jumpy beneath my skin before Meagan’s bookshelf. These books collect a thousand thoughts, an endless hunger for knowledge.

Strain closely. The backs of the shelves are vibrating. Passion shakes them. There’s a woman behind them, waiting to get out. If she does, I both fear and celebrate the oncoming uprising. There is pain here. Beautiful, breathtaking pain. These books are bones, but refuse to be buried.

My favorite color has always been red, but I wonder if I deserve it. The subject of my interview sits like a queen on her couch, a modest throne. She’s healing from battle and has granted me an audience.

Many people wear color well, but not quite so many embody it.

“If you wrote an autobiography, what would it be called?” I asked her.

“Red.”

Call upon your knowledge. You’re going to need it.

Q: Where did you get your bookshelf from?
Meagan Snedigar: Walmart. Quite literally, eleven years ago, which is made pretty evident by the wear and tear of it. That's—I don't know, I would love to replace it, but if anything, right now, I just want to get another. I don't want to replace it. I just want to get an additional bookshelf.

Q: If someone saw your bookshelf, how would you feel?
MS: They would immediately notice the amount of non-fiction theology books I own. I think that would be the first thing. I might own less than ten fiction books out of all of my books, so I think that's something that they would notice. I don't know exactly what the interpretation of that might be, but that's definitely a characteristic of my bookshelf that I don't find everywhere.

Hopefully, it would communicate to them a search for truth. Whether it'd be voices of people and their trains of thoughts from 19th-century philosophers or whether it'd be a book about a Vodou priestess growing up in Brooklyn.
Courtney: Ooh! Is that Mama Lola?
MS: Yes! It is.

(On Courtney’s admiration for the number of books on atheism)
MS: A lot of those books are textbooks, but you'd be surprised how many of them aren't (traditional) textbooks cuz I did graduate with a philosophy and religious studies degree.

Q: How would you describe your reading collection in one word? Overall and one word?

MS: I would describe my reading collection as inquisitory, I think. In search of knowledge through thought and as far as many words as I want, I don't know. I think that's a good word for it really.

In all of their own ways, the author or the character in even the fiction books that I have, I can see my own stories. Either through characters I agree with or characters I don't agree with. Or narrations that I don't agree with or trains of thought that I agree and disagree with. That's what makes it inquisitory to me because whether I agree with what I'm reading or not, it pushes me to think about it in the way that I did not before I read it.
You'll find that the majority of my fiction is on my favorite shelf. The reason those books are on my favorite shelf...It’s because they are my favorite, which sounds inherently discernible, but it is because those are the books that if I'm having a really bad day, if I'm having a panic attack, if I'm having any sort of issue then I can pick up any one of those books and open it to any page.
And I highlight. I highlight my books. Phrases of sentences that resonate with me, I highlight. I highlight an entire page, so I can just open the book and look. I'm a note maker, which is why I don't buy new books. You'll find most of the books up there are used and I prefer them that way because I'm going to write all in them and question mark here and circle this.
I like highlighting in different colors because then I can go back and see that the first time I read this, I highlighted all of this in pink. So, clearly, this highlight in yellow came after that. First time I read it, this is what stood out to me. The second time, this stood out.

Q: What's your favorite book on the shelf?

MS: I feel like I turn to my books the fastest and the hardest when I'm feeling bad. So, some of my favorite books are what people would call sad books. On the Heights of Despair by E. M. Cioran is one of them. That one, he's nihilist, somewhat in the beginning. He's an existentialist more so (later) and got kind of swept up.

Courtney: Funny how that goes!

MS: Right? Got swept under the nihilism rug and wrote about it. That along with Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre are two of my favorite books to just pick up and read, either from the middle of the book or the beginning of the book. Read a couple of pages or read the entire thing through all the way again, just because I can relate to the thought processes.

One is the the author's train of thought and the other is fiction. Kind of, almost like a playwright, but a fiction novel. For that, I am insanely thankful for those books. Without them, there would've been times where I don't know what else I would've found comfort or solace in. To know that someone who lived so long ago has the same thoughts that you do. Or they have thoughts that you've had before that bring out more thoughts in you, whether they're additionally sad or happier because of something that you read.

I don't think reading a sad book makes you sad. I think it helps me explore a dark part of myself that I feel like is important. That's why I say my books are inquisitory, they prompt me to explore. Either for knowledge or myself or my emotions. I'm incredibly thankful for them.

Q: Have you received a book as a gift?

MS: Yes. Plenty of books on that shelf were gifts. Most of them very well-chosen gifts. Last couple of Christmases, the majority of my list to my mom has been books. I even specify to her that I want them to be used because: a) if she buys them used, they're cheaper and she can give me more of them and b) I can highlight and write in them to my leisure without feeling like I'm defacing something.

A lot of those books have been gifts. Some very precious ones.
Q: Have you read every book on your shelf?

MS: No, I have not.

Courtney: Let me tell you: that has been the resounding response. Myself, included.

MS: Absolutely, there are tons of books that I haven't read. I would say I've definitely started 90% of my books. Ones that I don't really—like textbooks and/or books that are a little more informative, they're not quite like a novel or written with a plotline, You can pick up and read in chapters, however they are cumulative on each other. They stand alone a little more. Those kinds of books I'll find that I can pick up to read certain parts, put it back down, and don't read all the way through.

Then there are books on there that, oh my God, I can't tell you how many times I've read them and finished them in a span of days.

Q: If your bookshelf could talk, what would it say to you?

MS: It would tell me to feel the pain that I feel. It would tell me to actually feel it and to explore it. That's what it does tell me. I know the question is “if”, but it tells me that all the time. Any time I pick up a book to read, it tells me to explore what I'm feeling. Whether that's pain or happiness or furthering my knowledge in a given area. Theology, for instance. Philosophy, for another.

This bookshelf's very important to me. I know that it has that symbolism to a lot of people, but I feel like my books have, in hard times, literally picked me up and carried me. Maybe not really smoothly, because you know it's going to be hard anyway. But, I feel like they've carried me and put me in a more comfortable place. Whether I'm physically recovering from something and I can sit here to read, they help me in that way. Or whether I'm emotionally going through something, having been diagnosed with PTSD and severe depression, those books I feel like coddle me. In a good way. They thrust me into my feelings and force me to see that I can relate to other people when I'm feeling the most alone.

“Chaos is rejecting all you have learned, Chaos is being yourself.” ― Emil Cioran

"Let Them Eat Mac 'n' Cheese: My Life as an Artist, History Buff, and Cheese Enthusiast" with Zoë Robison

Let Them Eat Mac 'n' Cheese: My Life as an Artist, History Buff, and Cheese Enthusiast

Zoë’s bookshelf contains graceful idealism and absolute terror.

Also, a fantastic collection of adorable trinkets.

Imagine fairytale princesses meeting in coffee shops to discuss the ramifications of the French Revolution. I’d like to think this shelf is in their favorite café. That it witnesses long-winded debates with glee. That maybe one princess illustrates the guillotine by using a blunt plastic knife to slice through her warm croissant. That another comments on the potential of mankind while she watches. That the third sketches all of them gathered around the table.

I inhale magic and exhale revolution here.

“If you wrote an autobiography, what would it be called?” I asked her.

“Let Them Eat Mac ‘n’ Cheese: My Life as an Artist, History Buff, and Cheese Enthusiast.”

Let’s eat.

Q: Where did you get your bookshelf from?

Zoë Robison: So my bookshelf comes from my great aunt’s house. She passed away in 2005, it was. And my dad’s mom passed away before I was born. She was kind of—that’s her sister—so she was kind of like my grandma on that side.

She was like the perfect grandmother. Sweetest little Southern lady. We would go up to her house all the time. She'd have, you know, the little bedroom set up for us...When she died, we pretty much got all the furniture and this used to be in her living room. I remember there was a little picture of like our family in this weird little picture frame of a sofa. I don't know why it was a sofa, but yeah, it used to like sit right in the middle of the bookshelf. I always think about that when I see it.
Q:  How would you feel if someone saw your bookshelf?
ZR: I mean, I'm really proud of my book collection and this is only a small portion of it. You know, I think I have a nice little mix of things up there. I hope people would recognize things and look for recommendations or whatever.

Honestly, one of my proudest moments was when my dad came into my room one day and started looking through my books and was like, "You got a good lil collection over here.”

And I was like, "I did it!"
Yeah, I would love for people to come and look. They'd probably be like this is obnoxious the amount of French history you have, but, you know. That's my thing.
(On how each shelf tells a different story)
If you split it, the bottom half could be like, "This is a child's. And the top half, you're like: French scholar?"
Q: Alrighty, so how would you describe your reading collection: overall and in one word?
ZR: It's a weird mix between extremely depressing and very creative and inspiring. My favorite parts of history are really rough. Really violent. The French Revolution, that's like some rough shit. There's a mix of that plus Jim Henson's biography and all these little creative inspiring things.
I don't know, that's so tough. I guess, hmm, maybe idealistic would be a good word for it.

Because the creative aspect of it is kind of an idealism in terms of this whole creative world and where I want to be and looking at the success and struggles that they've had and everything.

But, then the history aspect of it, I have a tendency to romanticize history. Especially, the areas I'm really interested in, you've got these big courts and the flowing dresses and big parties. It's very idealized and romantic and then reality sets in, which is kind of what I love so much about those periods.

Q: What is your favorite book on the shelf? It can be your favorite book of the moment or overall.

ZR: I'm going to give you two answers.

My two favorite books of all time are The Hobbit and The Tale of Two Cities. The Hobbit I've read probably once a year since I was ten. It was...I can't even really say what it is about that I loved so much, maybe Hobbit culture is very dear to my heart. I'm bout it. I love it.

I don't know. Something about it makes me feel like childhood and magic and all this kind of stuff. That's definitely one.

Then Tale of Two Cities. Read it in high school for an English class and I completely hated it at first. Then, as the story progressed, that was the first time that I had really read about the French Revolution before. I knew the main names and that kind of stuff, but didn't really know the story...It's interesting to see that side of human nature.

That's what I love so much about history: it happened. It was real. Any fiction story you read, it's great, but…

With history, it's like this is an amazing, completely captivating story and it actually happened. I think that's why I'm so drawn to those darker periods in history. It's just amazing to think that it really happened and to see all the good that came out of it.

Q: Have you received a book as a gift?

ZR: Many times. [laughing] My dad is a department head of history and political science at Southeastern. He has an enormous book collection and often gets book samples in to use for classes. He'll have leftovers from classes and then [laughing] he gives them to me.

A bunch of the books up there are books that have come from his library and accidentally found their way into my bookshelf and not back to him. He'll just bring me stacks and stacks of books all the time.

It’s amazing. I have no room for them, but I love it.

Q: Have you read every book on your shelf?

ZR: No, I have not and I was actually looking through it earlier and trying to see. There are about ten or fifteen on this shelf that I haven't read yet. If you want to talk about my bookshelves at home, hell no. I have not even skimmed the surface. I've read most of them, but not all of them.

Q: If your bookshelf could talk, what it would say to you?

ZR: Oh, man. Hmm. That's a really tough question. What would your bookshelf say to you? Have you thought about it?

Courtney: Yes! My bookshelf would say: "You're too hard on yourself. You don't need these many self-help books. [laughing] You should try to concentrate on fiction more, but I really dig the stuff that you've filled me with right now." Yeah, I feel like my bookshelf would be kind of the best friend that I need to jump in every now and then. And be like, "No, you got it going on. Look, you've read all this shit. You're doing quite alright." [laughing]

ZR: I think mine would say, “There's always room for more”

I'm always buying books and I think that that's a good thing. I think it's a good thing for people to go out and keep buying them even if they don't get to them yet cuz there's always more time. You're going to have the opportunity to get there. There's always more stuff to learn. There's always more stuff to explore. Yeah, it would be something kind of like that.

Fin.