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September 25, 2019
Brock Clarke's Playlist for His Novel "Who Are You, Calvin Bledsoe?"
In the Book Notes series, authors create and discuss a music playlist that relates in some way to their recently published book.
Previous contributors include Jesmyn Ward, Lauren Groff, Bret Easton Ellis, Celeste Ng, T.C. Boyle, Dana Spiotta, Amy Bloom, Aimee Bender, Heidi Julavits, Hari Kunzru, and many others.
Brock Clarke's Who Are You, Calvin Bledsoe? is the funniest novel I have read all year. Clarke once again proves himself a master with this comic yet poignant book.
Kirkus wrote of the book:
"Unquestionably the funniest novel ever written about Calvinism."
In his own words, here is Brock Clarke's Book Notes music playlist for his novel Who Are You, Calvin Bledsoe?:
In my new novel, Who Are You, Calvin Bledsoe?, a middle-aged blogger for the pellet stove industry whose minister mother is the author of a world famous book about John Calvin is, after his mother’s death, whisked away by an aunt he didn’t even know existed to a life of international crime while being pursued by his ex-wife, his mother’s lover, his aunt’s ex-husband, her aunt’s estranged son, his mother’s John-Calvin-crazed acolytes, and Interpol.
There are no pellet stoves in these songs, and no Interpol (not the band, and not the international policing organization, either). But there are plenty of estranged lovers, spouses, and children, and also, probably, plenty of John Calvin, too, whether the musicians wanted him there or not.
“Tennessee,” by the Silver Jews. God, I love David Berman, the Jews’ lead singer and songwriter and guitar player and everything, and now he’s dead, and God, I miss him so much already. And one of the things I miss most about him is this: for all the melancholy and darkness and anger of his songs, they could also be goofy and sweet and hopeful too. This song has all that—the goofy chorus (“You’re the only ten I see”) but also the epiphany (“You know Louisville is death/You’ve got to up and move/Because the dead do not improve”) that leads to the defiant, hopeful “Goodbye losers and suckers/and steady bad luckers.” I listened to Silver Jews a lot while writing this book, and I think it bled into the mood of the book. I hope it did.
“Pussy, Weed, Beer” by Chastity Belt. This song, by the Seattle band, is hilarious: four women, playing a song, mocking frat boys who express their wants and needs by chanting, in the song’s chorus, “And we want/Pussy, weed, beer!” So great, so irreverent, so catchy. I can imagine Calvin’s aunt loving this song, and singing it, in public, just to see what might happen.
“Fire Lake” by Bob Seger. This is an act of contrition. On one of my previous playlists for Largehearted Boy, I made fun of this song. What was wrong with me? Why was I such an asshole? This song is great, jaunty, wistful. I love it, now, and I must have been afraid of admitting I loved it, then. “You remember Uncle Joe/He was the one afraid to cut the cake.” I wish I’d written that.
“Leave Me Alone” by Nathaniel Mayer and His Fabulous Twilights. One of the greatest songs by one of our greatest forgotten R&B singers. “Leave me alone” might well be the anthem of my novel’s narrator, Calvin Bledsoe, but no one in the novel ever does.
“So High” by the Glands. I listened to this band a lot during the last year of revising the book. “I’m making a comeback/Everybody is making a comeback/It can’t be that hard!” Hopeful words for someone trying to revise something that resisted revision, hard.
“Tester” by Hinds. A Spanish band made up of four young Spaniards, two lead singers, singing, in English, addictive pop songs in the highest, most cheerfully frenetic voices.. I wrote a lot of this book in the mornings, before driving to work, and I listened to a lot of Hinds on those drives. This is the best song on their excellent album I Don’t Run.
“Sure Shot” by the Beastie Boys. The theme song of the great second season of the great show “Patriot,” which, with its movement from the States to Europe and its fuckups and criminals and spies, has a lot in common with my novel. I hope that’s true, at least. I watched this show, and listened to the song, whenever I could over the last year plus.
“Don’t This Look Like the Dark” by the Magnolia Electric Company. A beautiful piece of poison. “All the horrid things you said to my heart/ every one of them things was true.” A sad song that, like a lot of sad songs that say true, tough things matter of factly, makes me very happy. Calvin’s Aunt Beatrice says mean things sweetly throughout the book, and, in writing her character, I tried to channel the spirit of this song as much as possible.
Brock Clarke and Who Are You, Calvin Bledsoe? links:
the author's website
excerpt from the book
Foreword Reviews review
Kirkus review
Publishers Weekly review
KMUW interview with the author
Largehearted Boy playlist by the author for An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England
Largehearted Boy playlist by the author for The Happiest People in the World
Times Record profile of the author
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