Ligotti Interview Question

[bendk]

It was nice to hear that Subterranean Press is collecting Ligotti's interviews and publishing them in book form. I think over the years I have tracked all of them down except one:

Potter, Gary D. "A Conversation with Thomas Ligotti", The Point Beyond (1992) [An
addendum to a bookseller's catalog.]


This book will be an excellent reference for people wanting to write articles about TL and his work. I find it interesting to read inteviews and letters in the context of a writer's work. It got me to thinking what I would ask Tom about if I had the opportunity. So, if you could ask Ligotti one interview question, what would it be?


Although I have a million questions, the one I would ask is about where he got the idea for "Dr. Voke and Mr. Veech" (especially the denouement). It strikes me as more surreal than most of his other stories. I know there is some Bruno Schulz in there, but I would still like to get more background on this tale. I have it in all its incarnations, from Grimoire #2 to the newest Subterranean version.

[ramonoski]

He once said he'd conceived of stories that were just too disturbing for him to write. I'd ask him what those stories were, because I'm having a hard time conceiving of things more disturbing than some of the stuff he's actually written over the years.

[Lovecraftian]

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[Corman]

Quote Originally Posted by Lovecraftian

Were it the case that I could ask more than one question, I'd inquire about Ligotti's political views. I detect strongly Marxian undertones in My Work is Not Yet Done. I doubt, however, that Mr. Ligotti would classify as a Marxist, given that the disenchanting pessimism of his work is not compatible with the revolutionary zeal held by the (seeming) majority of Marxist thinkers. I imagine that he would prefer to live in a Marxian world, but does not think that humankind has the capacity to bring such a world about (which is probably true).

Ligotti pretty much said this is an interview that came out a few years ago when TCATHR was released. EDIT: Found it!

Quote

These days I don’t mind being called a nihilist, because what people usually mean by this word is someone who is anti-life, and that definition fits me just fine, at least in principle. In practical terms, I have all kinds of values that are not in accord with nihilism.For example, I politically self-identify as a socialist. I want everyone to be as comfortable as they can be while they’re waiting to die. Unfortunately, the major part of Western civilization consists of capitalists, whom I regard as unadulterated savages. As long as we have to live in this world, what could be more sensible than to want yourself and others to suffer as little as possible? This will never happen because too many people are unadulterated savages. They’re brutal and inhuman. Case in point: Why is euthanasia so despised?Answer: Because too many people are barbaric sons of bitches. And even in those places where euthanasia is allowed, you can’t be assisted in dying until you’re suffering to the brink of madness. At the Swiss clinic known as Dignitas, where you can be humanely euthanized, or in Oregon, where euthanasia is still legal, though perhaps not for long, you have to jump through a host of hoops to prove you’re mentally lucid. Who the hell is mentally lucid when they’re in such pain that they can hardly think? What a boon to humankind it would be if we offer everyone euthanasia before they are reduced to zombies of misery, so that they could say good-bye to their friends and families with a smile on their face and a clear mind. And what about people who are in mental pain from which they are not likely to recover? Have some ####ing mercy. There is nothing in this world as important as to be able to choose to die in a painless and dignified manner, something we do have the ability to bestow on one another. If euthanasia were decriminalized, it would demonstrate that we had made the greatest evolutionary leap in world history. If we could only arrange society so that we didn’t have to fear every one of us, the throes of agony that routinely precede death, I would be proud to call myself a human being.

[luciferfell]

I have a simple question. Has TL ever seen Eraserhead? It seems to me that a lot of his stories share some themes with that film.

[waffles]

If a bar offered a Ligotti Burger, what would you want on it?

[bendk]

Quote Originally Posted by waffles

If a bar offered a Ligotti Burger, what would you want on it?

LOL. I think this deserves a thread of its own.

[DoktorH]

Quote Originally Posted by waffles

If a bar offered a Ligotti Burger, what would you want on it?

When I picture a LIgotti Burger, i think of a burger that might be served at a diner in a Ligotti story. soggy bun with green spots that are as likely to be mold as they are to be some kind of condiment. Mystery meat patty that is dry and black and crumbling from overcooking but revoltingly cold and damp as if it had sat abandoned on a griddle that hasn't been turned on in years. ketchup so watered down that the tepid flat soda they serve alongside the Ligotti Burger is thicker. served on dirty plate that was broken and badly glued back together.

for a Ligotti Burger that would be actually edible, the patty would be a blend of beef, pork, and goat, on a plain bun, no toppings. the soda is flat and warm. the french fries are cold.

[luciferfell]

Nah. A Ligotti burger would be an ordinary burger. But you wouldn't have an interest in eating it. Because life is malignantly useless.

[ramonoski]

The New Burger

It isn’t like that of a 24-hour diner, the kind populated only now and then by a couple insomniac writers; nor is it like that of the fast food joints one can see throughout the city though rarely open at night. It isn't even what happens when you buy your own bread, your own beef, your own cheese, your own bacon, and proceed to follow a set of instructions laid down by some stranger who smirked and coughed while writing down the recipe for you—though never disclosing that his choice for meat isn't exactly beef. Even the doubly-priced ones you can buy at certain restaurants are not remotely like it.

It is absolutely, when all is considered, not anything like the seasoned meat of a certain smirking, coughing stranger, who keeps his ingredients in the gloom of an attic... and his source of meat in the dimness of a basement. Nor is it like the combination of the actual ingredients, which the stranger produces himself by distilling his own bodily fluids—tears, blood, mucus, semen—from which he extracts the finest salts and bitters which lend his seasoned meat a most peculiar and unequaled flavor. Nor is it like the fear of his meat source, who, after many burgerless nights, is only beginning to realize what the stranger is feeding him.

For the new burger keeps no secrets, and the new burger feeds without feeding. What, after all, does remain after you remove the teeth and the tongue, the hunger and flesh? Whether you are the stranger or the meat source or an innocent bystander looking for the next thing, inevitably you'll reach the same conclusion: there is nothing to taste, and there is nothing to savour; there is nothing to eat, and there's no such thing as flavour.

Is he cooking with you? You with him?

I am glad I cannot see your fryers.