A Conversation with Caroline Hagood, by Joanna Acevedo
Joanna Acevedo: What was the process of writing this book like, compared to your other books? You talk a lot about process within the book, like how you sometimes write in gym socks and cat pajamas, but can you speak a little more on how this book came to be?
Caroline Hagood: In 2016 I read Jenny Offill's Dept of Speculation. In this book, the main character had wanted to be an "art monster” – often a man enabled to be wholly creative by the women in his life – but then she became a wife and mother. From the moment that book was published, women writers started writing the most fascinating essays ever on this “art monster” concept. I stayed up late reading them every night until I finally realized I had to put all my thoughts about it into a book, or my head might explode!
JA: That leads really well into my next question. Can you speak more on the M (mother) versus W (writer) dichotomy and how these two sides of yourself play into each other?
CH: I think in many ways the M and the W can be really oppositional. The M is all about having no space and giving everything to others, and the W is often about trying to steal time and space away from the M role, in order to create something outside of the small people who live in your house. On the other hand, there are some strange overlaps: both are about creating (people versus writing), but just a very different kind of creating. Lately, I have been trying to bring the M and the W worlds together more by writing at the same little table as my son while he does his writing homework.
JA: Why do you think some writing is considered monstrous, while other writing is praised? What, in your opinion, makes an art monster?
CH: I should start by saying that I view calling writing "monstrous" as a compliment, haha. No, but I guess we need to create some definitions here. There's writing I might call monstrous in a bad way because it glorifies something violent and awful, but the way I mean it in my book is more like "wildly creative." I would say an art monster is someone passionately dedicated to their creative work. This person has historically often been male because of the way society was constructed, so that the women in his life made his artmonsterhood possible. My book shifts the view so that we can look at women and mothers as art monsters too.
JA: You often compare the art monster to mythical creatures – witches, mermaids. Can you speak on the mythical aspects of the art monster, and how you’ve channeled these aspects into your own life?
CH: Definitely. In Weird Girls, one of the things I wanted to look at is why the term "monster" was in "art monster" to begin with. As in, if I didn't think the art monster was about being a monster in a bad way, then why was that word in there? I decided that the monster is a very creative entity in itself. Monsters, those mythical mermaids for instance (people often forget that mermaids are monsters because they are so cute), are hybrid creatures – women with fish bodies. This bringing together inventive exhibits from different spheres is precisely how I view the creative process. I often think of Frankenstein's monster: that sewing together of various "bodies" is similar to how I think of the most brilliant kind of writing. I love hybrid writing where you're not sure if it's a poem or a novel or what. In my own life, I guess I try to channel the hybridity and wildness of mythical women monsters to make me both more creative and more brave when it comes to writing or living.
JA: What, if any, role does the art monster play in society? You give lots of examples: Lady Gaga, Diablo Cody – who are both culture makers. Do you think the art monster is an integral part of our society, even as she is denigrated?
CH: I'm biased on this question of course, but I think the art monster is crucial to society. The art monster creates the works of art that help society transform. An art monster is not afraid to say the thing society needs to hear or to make the thing that will help society to see itself. The art monster is also just about good old creativity, and I like to think there's a crucial place for that in society, even as art funding is cut every day.
JA: The final, and perhaps most important question...What advice would you have for the burgeoning art monsters who are finding themselves in the present day?
CH: Oh wow, there is so much to say on this one. I think I will need a list form.
1) Find an art monster mentor to guide you through the underworld of creativity, and help you navigate the challenges that come up in any creative life.
2) Sometimes it helps to ask yourself whether you will look back on your deathbed and wish you had just done the brave thing. The answer is usually yes.
3) Make something every day, even if it's just a sandwich.
4) Take adventures to places that make you feel creative, even if it's just the subway.
5) The subway will often make you feel very creative.
6) Find a special place to be creative, even if it's just your closet.
7) If you want to be a writer, read all the stuff; if you want to be a musician, listen to all the stuff...and so forth.
8) Try to ask yourself at least once a day this question from this Mary Oliver poem:
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?"
Caroline Hagood is an Assistant Professor of Literature, Writing and Publishing and Director of Undergraduate Writing at St. Francis College in Brooklyn. She is the author of the poetry books, Lunatic Speaks (2012) and Making Maxine’s Baby (2015), the book-length essay, Ways of Looking at a Woman (2019), and the novel, Ghosts of America (2021). Her book-length essay Weird Girls is forthcoming from Spuyten Duyvil Press in November 2022. Her writing has appeared in LitHub, Creative Nonfiction, Elle, The Kenyon Review, the Huffington Post, the Guardian, Salon, and the Economist.