Spark

       Lorrie Moore stumbled to the stage, her burnt amber locks splayed across her forehead like a paper fan as she adjusted her crooked frames that were resting asymmetrically at the bridge of her nose. She mounted the three small steps to the stage with a glassy-eyed lack of self-consciousness. She was determined, shrewd, and distinctly oozing brilliance and wit. And she hadn’t even uttered a word yet.

            When she began speaking, I nearly had to strain my ears. Her voice was tranquil and squelched, as if she was conversing to her audience from behind a Halloween mask. She had a gentle, soothing voice, with a hint of contemplation in it. Her strong and collected nature was harmonious. Her words were like a symphony---everything from her grim humor to her sharp, cutting one-liners.

            After two introductions from English professor Dan Barden and an M.F.A. Creative Writing student, Lorrie Moore rattled off a little bit about her career. But first she apologized for the seemingly frazzled state she was in.

            “Sorry, but I’m a bit discombobulated. I got stuck behind this truck accident on Route 65, coming from Madison,” she announced to the audience.

And she proceeded.

            “My first short story collection was Self-Help,” she said matter-of-factly. “It was composed of short stories from my Master’s thesis from Cornell.”

            After a very brief synopsis of Moore’s career thus far, she instantly launched into a reading of an excerpt from her newest novel, “A Gate at the Stairs” which was published last year. The essence of the reading blatantly indicated that the novel is achingly morose yet paradoxically, pointedly droll.

            This novel holds a lens to our post-September 11th world, and the agitation and terror surrounding it all. It focuses on a young college student, Tassie Keltjin, a Midwesterner and daughter of a well-off potato farmer. As the story unravels, readers are given more insight into Tassie’s past despair, as well as her family’s. Moore impeccably blends crippling sorrow with poignancy and humor, which materialized into one well-balanced, intricate coming-of-age novel.

            The excerpt was shockingly succinct; however Moore abruptly proceeded to reading aloud a brand new short story that she seemed to be particularly proud of. She was certainly glowing when she spewed up a rapid spiel about it. The short story was called, “Foes.” It was very much politically charged.

            “I wrote it in 2008, in the midst of the presidential election,” she said.

            President Barack Obama is mentioned frequently throughout the story as well. It is a tale about an elderly couple, Bake and Suzy McKurty, who are staying in a Bed and Breakfast in Georgetown, Washington D.C. on a trip to partake in a crucial fundraiser. The story is quick-witted and fast-paced, and so is the dialogue, but only in the most positive manner possible.

            Line after line that Moore uttered, the audience would dissolve into a fit of chuckling. One particular line really made the audience cackle.

            “No sooner were they all seated than appetizers zoomed in. Tomatoes stuffed with avocados and avocados with tomatoes. It was a witticism---with a Christmassy look, though Christmas was a long way away,” Moore read in her warm, throaty voice.

            However, this was hideously mild compared to other lines that pushed the boundary of raunchiness.

            “His penis now sat soft as a shrinking peach in his pants,” Moore said, anticipating another eruption of laughter, which is just what she received, as well as a multitude more, given that this wasn’t Moore’s first or last male anatomy reference in “Foes.”

            Moore finished reading the story with a steady, dramatic flourish, which resulted in a thunderstorm of ear-splitting applause.

            The ardent hand-clapping seamlessly transitioned into a brief yet engaging question and answer session.

            “Would you write even if you weren’t making money off of it?” a rotund, elderly man pried. After a slight pause he added apprehensively, “Am I out of bounds here?”

            “Oh, no, you’re not. Yes, I would,” she answered bluntly.

            And interestingly enough, a woman in the back queried whether Moore knew that she was referenced in the HBO television show, “In Treatment.” Apparently, Moore wasn’t very pleased with how it came about, and joked about suing HBO, or at the very least, asking her agent for free HBO. Which amusingly enough, she had already taken the liberty of doing so.