INTERVIEW
Chuck Klosterman on “X” and what’s next
Chuck Klosterman did not pause in the middle of the interview to take a call from Justin Timberlake (this happened when he interviewed Taylor Swift and “J TIMB” lit up her phone), nor did he send me to a nearby coffee shop while he went to a potluck (which happened when he interviewed Stephen Malkmus, former frontman of Pavement). Then again, I didn’t follow a basic tenet of how he has conducted his many interviews with music icons and sports superstars: I didn’t go to Brooklyn to meet him in person.
Klosterman is coming to the Tattered Cover (on Colfax) on May 25 during his book tour for “X: A Highly Specific, Defiantly Incomplete History of the Early 21st Century.” His 10th book is a collection of essays and interviews, from Swift to Charlie Brown to Tim Tebow, along with some commentary from him on each piece.
By the way, “X” is pronounced “Ten.”
“I’ve found that everyone who sees it now says ‘X,’ but I should have anticipated that,” Klosterman said. “I overlooked the lack of fluency with Roman numerals in the modern world.” He noted that the same thing happened when his fourth book, “Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas,” came out. “Everyone would say, ‘Chuck Klosterman I.V.,’ like it’s a medical textbook.”
The prolific pop-culture writer (who often mixes the Q&A format into his stories) talked with me ahead of his tour about Tim Tebow, what makes him nervous about moving to Oregon and why he thinks he’s done
with celebrity interviews.
DP: In the opening pages of “X,” you say that going back through your work is, in some ways, a painful exercise. Why do it?
Klosterman: I’ll admit it’s not fun to do. Because when you look back on your work, unless you’re just a crazed egomaniac, everything looks like it could’ve been better. But why do it? Well, you could make the argument that in this day and age with the internet, nothing is really lost, all of these stories exist somewhere … but I always grew up reading anthologies of people’s work, and I like the idea of things being in book form.
Q: Did you wish you could have a do-over on any interviews?
A: I would say all of them, except Kobe Bryant. Kobe Bryant answered every question I asked.
Q: What are your favorite stories in “X”?
A: There’s a piece in there about Tim Tebow which I think has a real good idea in the middle of it about the meaning of faith, which I don’t think a lot of people would have come up with on their own. The Taylor Swift profile feels like a pretty solid examination of her character. And at the end of the book there’s a 10,000word essay about
Kiss, which I’m not sure anyone wants (laughs), but I’m glad Iwas able to do it.
Q: When I think of Tebow, I don’t think of a particular game or a play. I think of the fans here who made a huge kneeling Tebow in their yard after a snowstorm.
A: Thatwas just a crazy season. I can’t image what itwas like to be in denver! Because the whole conversation nationally was about him, it must have been suffocating in Denver.
Q: Now I think of it as being more about how people felt about Tebow than about Tebow himself, which you get into in the essay. Is that what’s interesting to you about sports — heated debate, howour divisions over athletes can mirror societal divisions?
A: Absolutely, when it comes to writing about sports, I’m always compelled by two things: Really technical aspects about the craft or strategy of sports, things that really only appeal to the insane intellectual sports fan, but also the opposite of that— when people use sports to have conversations about other aspects of life because it would be too complicated. Things like faith.
Unlike Kobe Bryant, Klosterman did not answer every question. At the end of the interview, there was one he didn’t want to answer— but his reason for not answering spoke to his approach to his work.
Q: Is there a topic you won’t touch?
A. Well, um. (Pauses.) You know what, there are, but I’m not going to say what they are, because that’s almost as bad as covering it. To come out and say, like, “I refuse,” or “I’m afraid of covering X”— that’s almost worse than actually doing it. Because you’re isolating the idea and not actually saying anything about it.
Q: What are you wanting to cover next?
A: I think in someways, this book is the end of me doing a lot of trend or celebrity journalism. There are still a few people I’d like to interview— I’d like to
interview axl Rose, for example. But for the most part I think that part ofmy life is done. I’m interested in finding a way to write about volatile ideas in a neutral way. In other words, just sort of discuss topics that are inherently problematic but present them in a readable, non-confrontational context, so people who aren’t already invested in those ideas can experience and understand them.
Q: What’s an example of a topic you’d like to cover in that way?
A: Things with identity politics, for example, that are very difficult to write about without taking a side either confronting the idea or embracing the idea. And I’m trying to find ways to write about that without doing either.
Klosterman is moving to Oregon. His wife has family there; he thinks it will be good for the kids to be around their grandparents. He speculated that it could be good for him, too. “I sort of think I need a different
life for awhile, even though I love living innewyork. It’s the only place I’ve lived where I felt normal. Every other place I lived, I felt like aweirdo.”
Q: In an interview for “Butwhat If we’re Wrong?” (his 2016 book that questions assumptions about a range of topics), you were asked whether this question keeps you up at night. You said no, but you didn’t say what does keep you up at night.
A: This is kind of a cliché answer, but I have two kids now, a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old. When that happens, your perception of reality kind of inverts itself, where you’re thinking about their lives in away that is not interesting. It’s only practical. Butwhen you don’t have kids, you’re only thinking outwardly aboutwhat is interesting or what is not interesting. ... So I think about my wife and my kids andmy life. I had the luxury for years— the only thing thatwas important to me was writing. If I was at a party and i was talking to people, in the back ofmy mind, Iwas thinking about books. And that’s not howi amnow.
I think if I was 21 now, I would be very politically engaged. But as a 45-yearold, I can’t think about this anymore. The world is insane, I get it. Now I have to get back to watching “The Octonauts” and making soup. In a way I would sum it up as simply as this: I am shocked by how many clichés about having kids are totally accurate.
I asked how this would cause a shift in his writing. He said it’s already happening.
“Froma commercial standpoint, the smartest thing I could have done is just do a different version of ‘Sex, Drugs, and cocoa Puffs’ every fewyears,” he said. “But thatwould feel very un-stimulating to me now; itwould seem like work.
“Writing is enjoyable to dowhen it goes well, and the difficulty that comes with it is a kind of enriching kind of difficulty. You’re dealing with problems when, if solved, prove you got smarter. I look forward to writing books, I wish I had more time to write.”
His fans would agree.