« older | Main Largehearted Boy Page | newer »
January 21, 2022
Andrew Lipstein's Playlist for His Novel "Last Resort"
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, Roxane Gay, and many others.
Andrew Lipstein's novel Last Resort is a comic masterpiece about writing and the literary world.
The Washington Post wrote of the book:
"Splayed across these pages is the dark terror that lurks within any creative person’s breast . . . As Lipstein skewers the pretensions and delusions of literary ambition, he reveals the mental tricks that allow writers to imagine that they care only for art, not money or fame . . . [A] deliciously absurd comedy about literary fame."
In his own words, here is Andrew Lipstein's Book Notes music playlist for his novel Last Resort:
Last Resort is about art, ambition, acclaim, and authenticity. It features Caleb Horowitz, a failing novelist who finally finds success when he grifts a juicy story from an old acquaintance about a ménage à quatre on a Greek island. He knows the moral (and legal!) implications of his actions, but prefers to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. The book lurches between the highs of inspiration, the lows of moral reckonings, and the tension that comes from getting what we want at the expense of our integrity.
These are songs that are featured in Last Resort, songs I listened to while writing, and songs that I think encapsulate the book’s thematic and tonal notes. It’s a funny thing, publishing a book—there are, usually, at least three years between when you begin writing and when the thing enters the world. But listening to these songs now I have the odd feeling of reentering the exact state I was in when I wrote the first words of Last Resort.
John Wizards: “Tek Lek Schrempf”
I obsessively listened to John Wizards’ only (eponymous) album when I started writing Last Resort. It both calmed and transfixed me; while listening I felt what a blank slate a book is. It’s weird music, wildly original, and often makes you feel like it’s building toward something only to go in an entirely different direction—exactly what the best books do! I namedrop John Wizards in the opening chapter.
Drake: “Passionfruit”
This song reminds me of going to parties and hosting parties, and all the thrill that comes with nightlife (something desperately missing from my life at the moment). Part of being a writer, to Caleb, is having your successes broadcasted; it’s getting a bit of social cache for your accomplishments. Some of my favorite scenes from the book take place at parties and events, where the anxiety of status haunts every interaction.
Deakin: “Golden Chords”
I mean, what a beautiful fucking song. It is impossible to doubt the power of art when listening to “Golden Chords,” and I would cut off my right arm to be able to craft a single sentence that has its visceral impact. Writing is just too contrived to ever convey such heart-dropping sonority—and yet, this song sounds to me like what inspiration feels like. There’s an impossibility to it. You know that you are being swayed, irrationally so, but you never want it to end.
Soothing Senses Noise: “De-stress yourself with white noise hums”
And what’s the opposite of inspiration? Editing! This is when you uncover, as Caleb says in the book, “all the strokes of genius that turned out to be pretentiousness, all the emotional depth that was actually sentimentality, all the wasted hours.” Editing, I think, is when you stop being so open to your own whims and start approaching the work with brutal rationality. When this phase came in my own writing process, I listened to white and “pink” noise (look it up) for hours at a time. I was also living in a studio apartment with my wife, and we were both working from home, so a bit of white noise was … crucial.
Westerman: “Confirmation”
Westerman’s music has a certain vulnerability to it that feels so honest and natural—like it’s not the subject of his songs so much as their inspiration. “Confirmation” always makes me think about how much of our desires—especially social and artistic desires—revolve around confirmation from others. This is certainly one of the motivating factors for Caleb. But it’s also at the center of his life force, his drive, and he wouldn’t be able to create without it. I like Orwell’s list of the four motives for writing—sheer egoism, aesthetic enthusiasm, historical impulse, and political purpose—mostly because it levels them. Egoism is, often, just as much a motive as politics or aesthetics or anything else.
Thom Yorke: “Suspirium”
This creepy, brilliant song is continually unresolved, always seemingly making progress but never settling to a more peaceful state—just like Caleb. It’s also, somehow, both yearning and claustrophobic. It reminds me of the times in life that we separate ourselves, either through our actions or our attitudes, while at the same time desperately wishing we weren’t alone.
Alexandra Savior: “Soft Currents”
This song starts, “Seven years … I’ve had seven years of bad luck.” This is how I—and Caleb—felt when we finally got a book deal. Past failures are a big part of Caleb’s—and my—backstory, and success is so much sweeter for it. But in Savior’s voice, there’s something redeeming about bad luck, about failure, about not getting what you desperately want. In “Soft Currents,” I feel longing hardening into a more solid state, one that you can keep forever and even find peace with.
Andrew Lipstein lives in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife, Mette, and son, August.
If you appreciate the work that goes into Largehearted Boy, please consider making a donation.
