The Last Regionalist? An Interview with Ernest J. Gaines

Although Ernest Gaines laughingly referred to himself as an "old relic" in this interview, he still possesses confidence in his writing and a demeanor indicative of a long and prosperous literary career. Gaines enjoys a personal and professional poise accrued over the last four decades that I observed as I interviewed him on two occasions: in person on November 27, 2001, at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette and via the telephone on December 11, 2001. We visited familiar themes in his fiction and discussed his current projects, literary and otherwise. Also, he exhibited a willingness to explore the present state of southern literature and to contemplate its future state. Gaines's textual concerns, such as a sense of place and community, are an endangered species in contemporary literature. Just as these "pet themes" recur in his texts, similar themes recur throughout interviews he has given and in criticism about those texts. If Gaines himself does not adopt contemporary literary concerns, likewise many interviewers have deferred discussion regarding his position in the contemporary literary environment and his recapitulation of, by his admission, ideals not valued in today's culture. To this end, I presented several excerpts from previous interviews for his analysis in order to encourage him to evaluate his career retrospectively. I found that, while he does not consider criticism about his texts nor does he read much contemporary fiction, Gaines continually exorcises the "Louisiana thing" that drives his fiction. But, even in light of this possible obstacle and his warning that he "said some stupid things in the past," I observed an introspective and retrospective Gaines, willing to review his distinguished career, to analyze his position in the current literary world, and to anticipate his future work.

BRISTER: I have researched the southern pastoral and a sense of place in your writing. I focused on your use of imagery, location, and the extent to which the pastoral is manifested in Catherine Carmier and Of Love and Dust. I want to ask you some questions regarding a sense of place, and also I want to talk about your craft and teaching.

GAINES: What do you mean by pastoral?

BRISTER: Well, valuing the rural space over the urban, the simple over the complex. In my research, I read many of your interviews and much criticism on the two novels. I want to ask you about a few statements you have made in the past and see if you still feel the same way now. A lot of these are older quotes and . . .

GAINES: [laughs] Well, I said some stupid things in the past.

BRISTER: [laughs] You did? To begin, I am interested in your relationship to the land, given that you went into the fields at age eight. In 1976, when you were living in San Francisco, you said, "I come back to the land to absorb things." Since home is now only one hour away, how often do you go back?

GAINES: I was there just yesterday because my wife and I recently bought a piece of that property. A few acres on the plantation where I grew up, where my mother grew up, where my grandparents grew up, where my folks probably had been slaves. We also have a camp down on the river in the area that I write about. It's Point Coupee, which I call St. Raphael Parish. New Roads is Bayonne. The river is the St. Charles River because I named it after my brother, and Raphael is my stepfather who raised me. I sort of name things after them. Yes, I am very closely related to the land because, until I left from here, that's about all I knew. That's where my family had been for many, many, many generations. You could probably go back to slavery, and they were there. So the land is very important to me and to my work and to all the...