I’m not that nosey
by Madison Clapp
What is the name of your lost one and what was your relationship?
His name was John Fante and I don’t know too much about the man himself. Our relationship started when I first read the third book, Ask the Dust, in his Bandini series of novels. You could say, because I only knew him through his words on many a page, that I never mourned the loss of his life. This is true. But it doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about his life quite a bit. Ever since he made me cackle by way of his main character: Arturo Bandini. Who, by the way, ain’t no son of a bitch!
Charles Bukowski loved John Fante’s books very much and once wrote about Fante’s life: “It is a story of terrible luck and a terrible fate and of a rare and natural courage.” This sentence has always haunted my mind when reading Ask the Dust and his other novels. The humor and sweetness and mental resolve that pour from his pages make me not want to believe in his terrible luck and terrible fate. Or, just believe that they had to do with publishing difficulties. But I think we all know what Bukowski said weighs heavier than that. And so I wonder how the energy of such a writer could ever be extinguished? The short answer and nice answer is that really, it can’t. Not when it bursts in the air like a rowdy firework, lighting up every bit of soul in its wake. And that—from my far, far point of view—was the good luck of John Fante, of Arturo Bandini!
When did you find out, where were you?
I never “found out” that John Fante died. Practically speaking, he started publishing in the ‘30s and was gone well before I was ever born. And you knew it reading his books. They—at the time I found them in 2013—were oh-so-clearly about a time long in the past. Not written with nostalgia in mind, but instilling it nevertheless. He was writing very alive. And yelling about it, too.
What surprised you about your own response?
The only thing that surprised me about my response to his “life lived” was, again, what Bukowski said about his terrible luck. I can’t help but shudder and wonder—although I don’t know what “it” concerned. I’m sure in this day and age that I could found out certain details. But why add anything to Arturo Bandini, his semi-autobiographical protagonist, that Fante never wrote, intended, or assigned? I’m not that nosey.
Where do you think they went? How do you feel about the concept of a legacy? Reincarnation? Spirits/souls?
Fante is surely, like Arturo, writing love letters, throwing them into the wind in the desolation of the desert and exclaiming this and that about this and that. A bag of oranges at his side. And maybe he’s got some worn-thin huaraches on his feet. Leather beat and sun-baked. He’s laughing, probably a bit like a maniac.
How did you/your family mark the death? Was there a traditional or untraditional ceremony etc and what do you remember most?
My family nor myself marked John Fante’s death as he is a hero of mine, not family or friend. But I read, read, read and give his books to family and friends. Like my Dad did to me on the Christmas I was still 17.
What’s the most annoying or unhelpful thing someone told you when you lost someone? What was the best / most useful / most comforting?
I suppose, when discussing heroes, people always ask what famous person you would want to have dinner with who’s already passed on. That question always gets under my skin, seems so ego driven. I mean why can’t you and them just live in your own times? Appreciate them, of course, and read their writing or whatever it was they made, carry it with you, and move along? Do your own thing? I know it’s supposed to be a fun question, a dinner-party question, but I just think it’s so cloying and actually not fun at all. Or, maybe I’m just no fun at a dinner party myself!!
How do you feel grief today? Where does it manifest in your body?
Grief is in my chest and mind every time it visits, whether it’s a long or short trip. A dull ache or a series of awful thoughts that are best slept off.
What is one logistic related to death that surprised you?
The plain fact that they are gone.
Do you have any rituals for your lost one? Can you share a photo?
I revisit his books often and I’m very, very happy when I find an old copy in a used bookstore that doesn’t cost an astounding amount of money. Usually at ones that are not in Southern California. Although my puppy tore up the last pretty copy I found.
Has grief changed your being, your overall point of view?
Oh my. It’s made me realize a lot more about “now” than anything else. Of course…if I’m going to do something, say something, write something, do it now. Why wait? Not out of fear but out of a deep love for life! Harder said than done sometimes, though. Arturo Bandini was well-versed in delays, too.
What advice would you give someone who just lost someone important to them?
Be easy. Puzzles take time to put back together.
Do you want to share something from your lost one? A song, a recipe, a saying, etc.
“My advice to all young writers is quite simple. I would caution them to never evade a new experience. I would urge them to live life in the raw, to grapple with it bravely, to attack it with naked fists.” —John Fante, Ask the Dust
And don’t forget the joy of an exclamation mark! John Fante wouldn’t want us to do that.