TLO Member Interview: g

TLO Member Interview: g
Conducted by Phillip Stecco


1) How did you first encounter the work of Thomas Ligotti?

Like falling in love should always be, I'm unable to remember when my eyes met his text. Speculating wildly, I presume it was in an 80s horror anthology since I pored through scads of them growing up. Whenever I first bought The Nightmare Factory (something like six years ago) was when the obsession took hold. I may have known when The Nightmare Factory was first released because of Poppy Z. Brite's intro, but I'm not even certain of that. I do know that I first heard of The Nightmare Factory over other Thomas Ligotti books and that I knew Brite's name but not Ligotti's. I didn't come by any rapid route. Discovering Mr. Ligotti's work was stunning. Certain elements of what he does were, and remain, spellbinding. I do remember reading the title The Nightmare Factory on a website when I was researching Poppy Z. Brite. That was about ten years ago.

I'm quite honored to have played a teensy walk-on role in the ongoing movement of Ligotti scholarship with the interviews I did with him for the Mumpsimus and Weird Tales.


2) What are some of your favorite works by Mr. Ligotti?

Wow. Which of my fingers are most useful for typing? Enumerating the benefits of each work is challenging. From there, you have to try to talk about bleakness and pessimism in a way that doesn’t cheapen how well-written the stories (and poems and album and, now upcoming, book-length essay) are and that doesn’t shuffle the separate works into the margins. Mr. Ligotti's so talented that he makes certain difficult techniques look easy, and anyone who likes short stories should give him a look. He’s better at depressed and deranged first person narrators than anyone else is able to be. No one is ever going to be able to do everything that he does as well as he does it.

In an appreciation from Tekeli-li! Journal of Terror No. 4, Harry O. Morris described Ligotti’s stories well by saying, “By disallowing logic and psychological time, and by creating twisting cardboard sets with puppet characters, Ligotti has created an interconnected landscape of dread.”

There’s much more to say, but it should suffice to restate that Ligotti is one of the foremost practitioners of horror, especially the horror of pain, suffering, and death. He isn’t one to lay on gore or pomp or predictable thrills. As such, he’s deeper, darker, and much more fascinating, as seen by a simple sentiment like (from the Neddal Ayad interview of Ligotti), "Mental illness will remain taboo until it becomes universal. Not that it isn't already universal from a certain perspective."

An encapsulation of Mr. Ligotti is that he steps to the podium in formal attire and then speaks so articulately that a slight motion of his finger or an almost imperceptible arch of his eyebrow is all it takes to employ his devastatingly powerful and singular voice. In the world of weird fiction, at least from my vantage point, most are imitators. Maybe there are only so many different ways to split braincells inside a reader's mind. I adore the work of many of the imitators, please don't misunderstand that, but Ligotti is a distinct and original voice. For me, weird fiction begins at Poe, Lovecraft, and Ligotti. There are others I adore, across a wider spectrum than I'm actually admitting to here, but none with such a simultaneous devotion to and aptitude for short weird fiction.

I wish his work were everywhere.

But then we run into that odd word, "universal." From the universal perspective, the most popular film of all time might be a shimmering smudge that makes a high-pitched grinding noise that wavers between two wormholes once or twice every five thousand years.


3) What other writers do you enjoy reading?

My reading has narrowed as I've aged. Further, I fear coming across as a snot if I don't name everyone whose work and company I enjoy. I've always wilted at that dilemma, but I'm a brave sort in my way, so... the living short story writers who I am most into at the moment, who may be of interest to fans of this website, who I have read recently are: Caitlin R. Kiernan, Shelley Jackson, Kelly Link, Brian Evenson, Michael Cisco, Wilum Pugmire, Jeffrey Thomas and Nick Mamatas. Of short story writers with more than a few collections behind them, I can go with those… but still feel I'm slighting talented writers.

My interviews for the webzine Bookslut are at least somewhat indicative of what I'm reading at any given time.

Generationally, I was in need of splatterpunk when it came along. Along with industrial and goth culture (which clearly led to my embracing The Furies of Brite, Kiernan and Faust), Deconstructionist and Poststructuralist Literary theory are also relevant to something or another. [As an aside, Justine Musk is one of the more interesting writers who is carrying that particular Fury torch and I look forward to Kathe Koja's Under the Poppy.]

Much transpired in fandom communities under the heading Racefail '09 and I admit that I'm uncomfortable with the fact that my above short story writer with multiple collections or works list does not contain PoCs, but I'm also not familiar with PoCs who are working in the Lovecraft Mythos or the Weird traditions. I know I'm interested in reading at least a bit of anyone who is creating such work. I hope admitting my ignorance proves educational for me.

I am a wide-ranging and profligate skimmer throughout the speculative fiction genres, with horror merely being the most compelling to my personal psychological pathology.

The more "pop" or "mainstream" the horror, the less likely I am to find worth in it, but there are exceptions. Weird, scary, dark and literary, with a commitment to experimentation, is a fine place to begin. Once I love something, I reread it slowly forever.

An essay by Mary Anne Mohanraj inspired me to take a rather too complicated online test that dug deep to unearth whether I was racist or not. I came out as a member of the small minority who are racist toward white people. I feel this is either because the test is flawed by not allowing a person to land dead center, in a place where they are not colorblind, they merely hate all of humanity equally enough that there are no perceivable biases, or it is evidence that I distrust white people to a slightly greater degree than PoCs because of my dislike of racism and the inherent powers of privilege.

Joel Lane is another one of the few short story writers that I think everyone should read. Laird Barron, Paulo Bacigalupi. So many names and so little time to list them. Angela Carter. Simon Logan. Barker? Gaiman? Nalo Hopkinson. China Mieville. Teri A. Jacobs. Jeff VanderMeer. John Langan. Samuel R. Delany. Cherie Priest. There are many important voices that I happen not to be hearing in my head at this moment. When does such a list become a misguided rant? Several paragraphs ago. I am trying to remain speculative and relevant to TLO. There are many others who are more to the fantasy or science fiction sides that I have omitted.

I've often wondered how many fans of horror, in any form, have missed Katherine Dunn's Geek Love. Such a loss saddens me.

My taste is much broader than this, but who wants to read a big list of names? It's long enough. People can email me off the grid once they've read these. I'll always be a bookseller. The single greatest tell for whether my personal aesthetics (rather than my knowledge of what gets published or what other readers enjoyed) will help recommend books to someone may be House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski.


4) Do you have any favorite singers or musicians?

As a child, a love of new wave and synthpop led to the industrial and goth scene. Nivek Ogre, best known for Skinny Puppy, Alien Jourgenson of Ministry, and M. Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails, are touchstones. Leaetherstrip. I like stompy and clanking music a great deal, but I also have a thing for lyrics that have a reasonably traditional song structure, though I also like things that sound like recorded rituals or gnarled and shrieking performance art, especially if it is made with the help of mourning robots.

ChemLab, Genesis P-Orridge, along with the predictable standbys of The Cure, The Smiths, Bauhaus, David Bowie, Depeche Mode, Joy Division and the cries of countless others. The Dresden Dolls. Tori Amos was kind enough to give me front row tickets once. Watching her fingers move from such a short distance induced both delight and delirium simultaneously. Contemporary acts that work most exquisitely and consistently for me include The Birthday Massacre and Placebo and Imperative Reaction and The Faint and The Cruxshadows. When Poe Danielewski releases new material, there will be paroxysms on my part. Current 93.


5) Do you have any favorite artists in the visual media?

A few obscure contemporary painters who are too busy making a living to complete works with any regularity. Evgeny Ruhkin is probably my favorite painter, though Van Gogh ranks high for me. Francis Bacon. Paul Laffoley. I seem to be drawn to abstractionists... Judith Lamb is one of the most technically proficient representational painters alive today. Her still lifes with dismembered dolls would be of particular interest to Ligottians. I interviewed a few weirdly erotic visual media creatives for Sirenia Digest and felt that I was putting my eye and my MFA to good use.


6) What are some of your favorite movies?

Suspiria, City of Lost Children, The Devil's Backbone, Hellraiser, Heathers. Mike Marano got me started on Joseph Losey, his films have been the best new find in a while with The Damned at a film series being the highlight so far.


7) Do you watch television?

Regrettably, yes. I find television to be an infernal mindsuck and I try not to give it my full attention if I can help it. Lost is my favorite contemporary show. It possesses supernatural imaginative complexity. Of all things (considering I loathe reality television), Top Chef. I'm a vegetarian and would never think of eating the food, but I enjoy seeing artists compete on weird themes at rapid speeds.

I would love Top Weird Fiction Writer. Give some of the fastest weird fiction writers a topic and let them run, then have a panel of judges choose the results. Fast and weird covering a wide range of different perspectives? Keeping in mind that speed is an important component of Top Chef, we would need a time machine, but along with others: Shirley Jackson, Grant Morrison, Nick Mamatas, Philip K. Dick and Harlan Ellison, in their prime and at their peaks and before they died or went mad, would be contenders. The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Kolchak the Night Stalker are faves.

Bring me spooky mysteries. I don't expect answers that make sense. Life's mysteries don't have answers that make sense either. Obviously, I watch television to come to grips with the wretchedness of the world. Please pass the potato jobbies.


8) What foods do you enjoy eating?

I lied above. I enjoy licking the screen during Top Chef. It tastes like static and glass and dust. I am inordinately fond of tofu, every edible vegetable, cheeses, olive oil, and coffee.


9) Do you have any odd hobbies or collecting fetishes?

This question would work better for me if it asked if any aspect of my entire existence had normal hobbies or was not damaged by my collecting fetishes. Growing up in Cooperstown, New York, working in card and comic shops fostered the bug. Time spent dealing rare books and working in bookstores has made everything worse. I continue to divest collectibles in preparation for various collapses, be they economic or heat-death. Books have ruined my life.


10) What recreational activities do you enjoy?

Reading and writing, alas, are not recreational for me. I seem not to recreate very well. Coffee shops with friends, get-togethers that revolve around friends, in moderation, etc. Films. I seem to have stopped going to concerts more than a few times a year because they're loud. The fact that I am skipping the NINJA (Nine Inch Nails / Jane's Addiction / Street Sweeper) tour and hoping it comes out on DVD shows exactly how small my life is becoming.


11) So many of our lives are filled with the day-to-day anxiety of existence. Have you personally discovered any ways to relieve stress?

By existing as little as possible I guess. I'm decidedly ill-equipped to deal with two things that most humans seem to take for granted: time and space. I tend to dither, am easily confused by what often passes for normalcy and I can get lost while driving down a one-way street that has no turns, often because I've remembered a cool thing that I read in a book somewhere. It's also that human achievement—like naming everything they see and then paving it and naming the roads after whatever they tore down to make room for the roads—has always struck me as a misguided premise.


12) Life?

Eh, it's more trouble than it's worth.


13) Death?

Ah, finally. This is the one thing I've been waiting for…

Sarcasm aside, I am not at peace with the idea of being dirt despite the certainty of it. I greatly dislike the idea that greater depths of mental and physical pain are looming. I guess it's the odd rub of knowing that no one gets out alive and that there's nowhere else to go. Given that, death looks pretty good and momento mori isn't a mindset I adopt from time to time, it's where I sit, meditatively, for every hour of every day.


14) Work?

By cobbling together a few too many things, I type full-time for now until it falls apart. As a writer, I write whatever comes my way. Even when I don't want to, even when it's banging out hackwork to keep the pussycat fed, I type. I just look forward to getting faster at it. And the potato jobbies.


15) Do you have any interesting work anecdotes to relate?

One time, this guy I met named Frank Dominio had wacky powers. Everyone got his name wrong. We did wacky things at this job I had in an office building. It was awesome. Much occurred. There are many anecdotes of the book biz, but they're less germane to this discussion than people might think. Existence is a prison. I wish my work were done, but this planet's tilted and skewed enough that it's not.

Klarkash-Ton's pal, the uncrowned King of the Bohemians, George Sterling, may have gotten it best when he showed off his cyanide capsule and said, "A prison becomes a home, if you have the key." I know I haven't popped that pill (or its equivalent) so far today. Or I took it and managed to forget. Does anyone really know anything at all? I don't. "There is a very loud amusement park right in front of my present lodgings" (Nabokov, Pale Fire).


19) Do you have a special plan for this world?

If, through some diabolical means or another, I was granted the power to press a button that would remove all traces of organic life and its history from this planet, I'd like to believe that I would swallow hard and be brave enough to press the button.

The world, even barring the lack of veto power over whether or not we have to bear this process of existence, has more bad than good. Regarding the blip that is human existence in the blip that is this planet's existence, it is polite understatement to say that, "Mistakes have been made." One of my greatest fears is that the errors of humanity will find a way to slip free of this planet and perpetuate their flaws extrasolarly.

This goes back to what it truly means for something to be universal because I don't think the universe really cares one whit—but I am of the opinion, for all good it does, that there is evil that festers in humanity that has the potential for great harm to not just this planet but others. Pressing that button would save what are statistically likely to be planetfuls of other sentient beings. Even though they've probably botched it too, their failures, from my infinitesimal vantage point, remain hypothetical. There is a chance that beings on other planets deserve to live.

Bluntly, I think the question is whether one wants to act as either a perpetrator or as a perpetuator and, in the abstract, I'm willing to err on the side that many would mistake as misanthropy. When I look at what humans have made up and believe so that they can get away with stupid stuff (like "families, countries and deities, sweetheart," [from "Purity"']) I want to weep. So often, people insist things are true merely because they want to believe they are true, as if propagating what is clearly a monstrous long-standing falsehood will somehow make everything okay. I presume this will eventually cause great pain to many. I hope I remember to weep on that one, but I might cackle. Am I being pragmatic, rational, acosmic? Who cares? That is my special plan for the world.


20) What else should we know about you?

I would be content to do little more than read. Since there's little percentage in it, I've worked in book and comic book stores and now I type all day.

You could say that I just don't care very much about the world. I'm considerate and giving and I want to help people get through their days, but I don't think that planet Earth is that special in the grand scheme. Sure, the most important part of a tombstone is the dash and there's plenty I, personally, still want to do—but it doesn't really matter. Maybe I have a heightened and enlightened sense of detachment. Maybe I'm just playing to an audience of a bunch of Ligottians.

Or maybe I'm such a space cadet that I rarely notice what is going on around me, but human history doesn't impress me much. When I look at the dominant paradigms and compare them to other ideas that have been presented and are readily available, humanity, in the aggregate, is not getting it even close to right and most people (even on something simple like ZPG or rewilding or being carbon negative) are too busy following their own selfish desires. Sometimes such things hold my interest too. I hope that continues until I remember why I have this almond aftertaste in my mouth.