Fantastic Metropolis

Jeffrey Thomas: Forrest, how did it come about that you became attached to this project, collaborating with Jeff VanderMeer as did Luke O’Grady and Rose Secrest in the previous two volumes of the Ministry of Whimsy’s Leviathan series?

Forrest Aguirre: Jeff and I both belong to that mysterious cabal of writers known as Storyville. Through our interactions there and outside of that esoteric place’s hallowed grounds we came to the conclusion that our tastes in fiction, our opinions regarding “good” and “bad” fiction and our artistic sensibilities were rather similar. When our mutual respect met with my admission that I wished, at some future point, to edit an anthology of fiction, Jeff, in that decidedly VanderMeerian way of his, asked me(seemingly out of the blue) if I might like to assist him in editing the third volume in the Leviathan series. I am a great fan of previous Ministry projects (Stepan Chapman’s Danger Music and The Troika, and the previous two Leviathan anthos), so I jumped at the opportunity. I knew that Jeff knew how to write and how to edit and I wanted to learn all I could in the manner of the old medieval guilds—I wanted a true mentoring experience. When Jeff agreed to provide the best training he could (and he did) I assumed my place at the Ministry table—only a little lower than the angels, as they say.

Jeffrey Thomas: What was the actual process of collaboration/selection like? Did you each bring in and champion individual stories?

Forrest Aguirre: I was essentially first reader on the project, especially when it came to unsolicited submissions. Truth be told, we tried very hard to avoid having to take unsolicited subs, as it is a rather painful process trying to sort all that out. Plus, I had several writers whose work I just can’t get enough of, or whom I thought were promising up-and-coming writers. Those for whom I found contact information were the first to hear the faint voice from over the horizon declaring good tidings of great joy: The Ministry of Whimsy was back with a vengeance. The wonderful thing is that, while the editing team was a bit of a two-headed beast at times, by and large we came to the same conclusions. Jeff and I are both wildly opinionated, at least reasonably intelligent, and rather straightforward. We work together well because we1) respect each other’s opinion but 2) aren’t afraid to tell it like it is. I think this honesty and respect served us well. As for championing individual stories, yes, some of that went on as well.

Jeffrey Thomas: Were there stories that didn’t make it in, because one or the other of you wasn’t in agreement on it?

Forrest Aguirre: Absolutely. And some fine fiction, to boot—the type of stories you will see in very visible professional markets in the near future. As I said, Jeff and I are both rather opinionated, so, of course we disagreed on some pieces. There were four or five tales that I can remember quite well where Jeff and I spent much time and energy going around and around in circles, debating the merits or faults of the story in question. Jeff had more experience as an editor, to be sure, and, to be honest, I learned more about editing in these rounds than in any other manner, so I often deferred to his experience—after grinding it over in my mind, I must say. Really, this was the litmus test for my editorship—could I objectify in the face of my own blazing opinion and that of another self-admittedly opinionated author/editor—one of the best around? I admit, there are a couple of stories on which we still disagree—but only ones that didn’t make it into the anthology. I didn’t really want anything in there that we both couldn’t stand behind with conviction. Everything you see in Leviathan Three is stamped with the Forrest & Jeff good editing seal of approval. I think our extremely picky look at the tales has resulted in a very high quality collection. We set out to compile the best speculative fiction anthology of 2002. You don’t get the best without a degree of controversy and a bit of a tussle.

Jeffrey Thomas: The approach to fantastical or surreal fiction in the anthology is very wide ranging, from the almost mainstream stories of Tamar Yellin to the sheer madness of Brian Evenson and Stepan Chapman. With such diverse approaches, how would you define what makes a story a Leviathan story?

Forrest Aguirre: That’s a tough one. For Leviathan Three we were looking for what I call “darkly beautiful surreal” stories. Some would-be contributors mistook this to mean horrific stories or silly stories. No, this time around we were pretty serious, but not scare-your-pants off serious. We wanted works that showed a decadent influence. In some, such as Stableford’s “Face of an Angel” or Connell’s “A Season with Doctor Black” this is rather pronounced. In others, such as Yellin’s “Moonlight” it is less so. To more directly answer your question, though, a Leviathan story must be the pinnacle of wordsmithing. Elegant, though not necessarily dainty prose is our hallmark. We look for stories that blur the line between mainstream literary work and the more pulp-oriented genre work. In fact, we try to abolish that line altogether. This is why you will see Brian Evenson placing the outrageously bizarre “The Progenitor” with us, for example—a highly respected “literary” writer is cut loose (no pun intended—you’ll know what I mean when you read the story) to write a story that he would be unlikely to place in any venue to which he might normally submit. This is why Stepan Chapman feels free to send us works that have been rejected by “literary” markets as “too strange” and by “genre” markets as “too literary”. This is why we take works like Duchamp’s “The Fool’s Tale”—a decidedly academic text that is strongly infused with fantastical elements—or vice versa. Leviathan is that one place where there is no such thing as “genre” and “literary” boundaries. We reject this false dichotomy out of hand. We are, in essence, the step-parents of the literary world’s bastard children.

Jeffrey Thomas: So do you find that attempting to label or categorize genre-defying fiction as experimental, surreal, slipstream, dark fantasy, magic realism, and so on is pointless, or simply challenging?

Forrest Aguirre: Both. As I have so clearly articulated above (hah!) Leviathan stories reject these labels as primarily marketing ploys. However, these labels are somewhat useful, if only to define the over-arching atmosphere of a piece. For instance, Lance Olsen’s “The Village of the Mermaids” is clearly an experimental piece (and a rather successful one, in my opinion). As for the terms “surreal,” “slipstream,” and “magic realism”—people write dissertations on this stuff—I’m going to just bow out gracefully, smiling and nodding as I go, offering the mantra “Yeah, sure, what you said! Amen, brother!”, then flee in abject horror at the first opportunity. That’s a can of worms I’m not ready to open.

Jeffrey Thomas: Has reading for Leviathan Three changed in any way the selections of fiction you read for your own enjoyment? Whose work have you read recently?

Forrest Aguirre: Yes, it has. I have always enjoyed more experimental pieces and reading for Leviathan 3 has only focused that enjoyment. Recently I finished a great collection called Punktown by some freakish guy named Wakizashi Paxton, if I remember correctly. Also Rikki Ducornet’s The Jade Cabinet, which may be the greatest pseudo-Victorian feminist novel ever written. I’ve also become interested in the work of Ben Marcus (my next book purchase will be his Notable American Women) and an upcoming Indian writer by the name of Prakash Kona (his Streets That Smell of Dying Roses is second on my list of must-buy books). I have also been reading a fair amount of two students of Ducornet’s: Catherine Kasper and Joanna Howard. I understand that they are working on an immense collaborative effort with Ducornet and several other feminist surrealists (oh, damn, there are those labels again)! I’m very much looking forward to the results of that melange.

Jeffrey Thomas: You’re a writer yourself, with a chapbook forthcoming from Flesh & Blood Press; has your experience reading for Leviathan Three effected in any way your own approach to writing?

Forrest Aguirre: My writing has not been so strongly influenced since that Thomas Ligotti/Steven Millhauser/Jonathan Carroll month-long triple read-a-thon I engaged in a few years ago. Yes, reading for Leviathan Three made me extremely self-conscious about my own writing. I have slowed my writing significantly since then and am routinely writing longer stories, more fleshed out stories, more subtle stories. When The Butterfly Artist comes out in early September, you’ll note that my early writing tends to be rather thickly layered, very short and strange. Someone once called me “Poe on acid”. Since then, I’ve become a little more subtle in my writing—more subdued, in ways. I think this change came about because I read so many stories that tried too hard to be “cool” or “extreme” or, heaven forbid, “intellectual”. This contrivance became a little much for me and I vowed that I would take my time to explore my thoughts a bit, to go beyond visceral reaction, only using it when it really helped to move plot or expose character or create atmosphere. I’ve found there are different gears in writing—and you don’t have to be in overdrive all the time to enjoy the act of writing. Slow down, enjoy the scenery, breathe the air and, if the need is there, by all means, gun it, but save your gas for when you really need it. One other thing I’ve learned is that no matter what you think, someone has written a story using your idea before. Luckily most people have done it badly—we call these “hackneyed” pieces—and these poor imitations of art are easy to spot. I cannot tell you how many stories for which I read the first and last pages (slowly, methodically) and scanned the rest, only to come to the conclusion that the work was hackneyed. It really showed quickly—tropes that were old by the time Laurence Stern was writing, phonetically spelled southern accents, and every possible permutation of The Monkey’s Paw. I have always tried to avoid hackneyed ideas, but strive even harder to do so now.

Jeffrey Thomas: The next volume, Leviathan 4, will have a theme of city-oriented fiction, but more importantly, will be edited entirely by yourself; the first installment not to have Jeff VanderMeer as a co-editor. Will this effect in any large measure the direction Leviathan’s contents will take?

Forrest Aguirre: Of course it will, that is inevitable. I have my own opinions which will show in the selections I make. Jeff has brainwashed me well, however, while giving me the freedom to act unilaterally in editorial decision making. Leviathan will continue to contain only the best fiction out there, with a breadth of scope which will continue to amaze and astound (and upset) the masses. Fair warning, Leviathan 4 will not, I repeat not, be as big as Leviathan Three in physical size. Leviathan Three sometimes scares me. My friends who work for OSHA give me a leery sidelong glance when they see me carrying the volume around, as if it is a threat to workplace safety. They usually scatter when I threaten them with it, though. Seriously, I am committed to making the Leviathan series of anthologies one which the world won’t soon forget. We will continue to dance in that darkly beautiful surreal courtyard-with-no-name, with the music of the best authors on Earth droning in our ears.

Jeffrey Thomas: Jeff VanderMeer has turned over the Ministry of Whimsy’s captain’s chair to you, which must be a bit intimidating. Do you see Leviathan as being an on-going series, beyond Four, and what else can we expect from the Ministry under your own personal vision?

Forrest Aguirre: I suppose I am in the captain’s chair, so to speak, but Jeff will always be the admiral. I’ve told him that I’ll take care of his baby as well as an adoptive parent can. I think the most intimidating aspect about this transfer of authority is the great success we are having with Leviathan Three. We have broken through the invisible small press ceiling by being reviewed in Publishers Weekly, The Washington Post and Booklist, among others. That kind of success breeds expectations. I’m confident, though, that Leviathan 4 will deliver the goods. There will be more Leviathans beyond Four. I have some ideas, but we’ll keep most of the cat in the bag for the time being. We have several projects under way now: A nonfiction novel by Lawrence Dyer about establishing a life in rural England, entitled A Cottage on the Moss; Zoran Živković’s astounding work The Fourth Circle—shades of The Troika, structurally, but a decidedly Živkovićian work that will knock your socks off; and an as-yet untitled collection of short stories by English writer Tamar Yellin. We will continue to explore decadent works and their modern legacy, works that are impossible to categorize and who knows what else?

Jeffrey Thomas: I’ll be looking forward to the future of Leviathan and the Ministry of Whimsy—and your own writing career—with great interest. Thank you, Forrest.

Forrest Aguirre: And thank you, Jeffrey. You are a worthy inquisitor.