Merrill House writer-in-residence Ryan Chapman to discuss satirical prison novel

October 22, 2020 12:00 am • Last Updated: October 22, 2020 3:51 pm

Ryan Chapman. credit: Beowulf Sheehan

Merrill House author to discuss satirical prison novel

The literature of incarceration spans the expected emotions: Righteous anger. Poignant hope. Bleak despair. Violence as a pathway to power or survival. And enough wry, chortle-aloud punchlines to explode the headliner tent at the Edinburgh Comedy Festival.

If that last example seems out of place — if your experience with prison writing is limited to "In The Belly of the Beast," "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich," "Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption" or even "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" — it's time to cheer up! In his first novel, 2019's "Riots I Have Known," Ryan Chapman, the October writer-in-residence at the James Merrill House in Stonington Borough, delivered one of the funniest satires in recent years — set entirely during a one-day riot at a penitentiary in Duchess County, New York.

From 5-6 p.m. Saturday, Chapman will read and discuss the book and his new work in an online presentation that can be viewed on the Merrill House YouTube channel. Chapman will be joined in conversation by novelist Joanna Scott.

In "Riots I Have Known," the unnamed narrator, a Sri Lankan inmate who edits and publishes the prison's literary magazine — The Holding Pen — has barricaded himself inside the institution's computer lab in hopes of completing his final "Letter from the Editor" before falling victim to the horror-show carnage slowly making its way through the prison. But what does the editor wish to convey in his final missive? Well, it's hard to say.

In the fine tradition of literary anti-heroes whose self-importance and inability to, as Joe Biden might say, "Shut up, man!" preclude any possibility of focus and clarity, the editor opines in piercing fashion on an incredibly wide variety of topics. As the real-time tension mounts in the increasingly blood-slopped walls of the prison, the editor's message is relentlessly hijacked by his own countless snide observations, biographical flashbacks, and self-aggrandizing endorsements and justifications.

This is all saved from boorish monotony because Chapman is not only incredibly funny, but his sense of tone and pacing make the reader eager to roll along with the detours. The editor, after all, coniders himself blessed with a range of knowledge reminiscent of the Watson computer, a worldview like Schopenhauer if his cellmate was Don Rickles, and a vocabulary that would cause Daniel Webster to abort his dictionary project as too ambitious. Nothing and no one are spared across the realms of politics, society, history, class, and pop culture.

All this is filtered through the prism of incarceration and, oh, yeah, with a bit of resentful focus on Betsy Pankhurst, a femme fatale journalist whose forthcoming book, published by Knopf (no less), is titled "Handcuffed: Sex and Madness with the Widow Killer" and thus provides the best possible clue of why the editor is in prison to begin with.

And Chapman delivers, non-stop. To read "Riots I Have Known" is to undertake an exercise regimen wherein one cackle barely dies off before the next begins. The support characters and their idiosyncrasies and backstories are revealed in delicious tidbits, interwoven with the narrator's circuitous blathering and real-time updates on the progression of the tumult — but it all coalesces and makes a mad, beautiful sort of sense.

Though "Riots I Have Known" is Chapman's first novel, his credits are extensive. A Sri Lankan-American originally from Minnesota, he's lived in New York City and the Czech Republic. He worked in an online editorial capacity for the Penguin Press and Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and his short fiction and journalism have appeared online at The New Yorker, McSweeney's, BookForum, BOMB, Guernica, and The Believer. A recipient of fellowships from Vermont Studio Center and the Millay Colony for the Arts, he and his wife live in Kingston, New York.

Earlier this week, Chapman spoke by phone from the Merrill House. His comments have been edited for space and clarity. Friendly and generous with his time, Chapman spoke in a mellow voice that one would otherwise associate with a pre-dawn DJ on a jazz station.

Q. Reviews of "Riots I Have Known" consistently praised the book as extremely funny, though some critics at the same time complained the satire comes at the expense of the incarcerated. It could be argued it's increasingly difficult for a writer or comedian to simply be funny for the sake of it — that the potency of satire in particular has been diminished by PC factions. Did you set out with this book to simply write something funny because you could, or do some of the critics just not get it: That you are in fact have some targets and they just don't get it?

A. One thing I really like about satire or humor is that it can be disarming, a sort of Trojan horse that reveals ideas about parts of ourselves we don't like to think about. I worked in publishing and was paid to read a lot of novels, and when I decided to write a novel I wanted to challenge myself with something that required sustained focus and do something readers hadn't encountered before. That included the idea of the monstrous narrator.

The thing about readers is they're self-selecting. I understand if someone says, "This book is not for me." For others, it stimulates and tickles them in different ways. Ultimately, if someone doesn't see that, there's nothing the writer can do about it when it happens ... It took me a long time to realize that using dark humor or black wit as a tool to work ideas about people and culture into a narrative is a useful tool, and it fascinates me.

Q. In that spirit, is it accurate to say that among the targets in "Riots I Have Known" is the American penal system?

A. I think of satire as a lens through which to view "Riot's" world, and its abiding spirit. Its targets are numerous, though I wouldn't include the American prison system among them — that's more environment and setting, a poisoned hothouse for the narrator's delusions of grandeur. This was one of the challenges in writing the book. In comedy one should never "punch down," and fiction readers don't need a novel to learn about the country's inhuman treatment of our incarcerated population. (For that, I'd direct people to books by Albert Woodfox, Ted Conover, and Shane Bauer.) I wanted to thread the needle such that readers encounter something truly new. And it's been nice to receive letters of praise from former prisoners.

Q. One of the best characteristics of the narrator is his hyper-reliance on over the top allusions and references. It's clear he's really smart, but there's also a humanizing element wherein he's trying so hard that we wonder about his own insecurity. Is that accurate?

A. With regards to allusions and cultural phenomena, it's another layer of humor to work with, and an inescapable part of modern life. Also, I figured a Sri Lankan who considers himself a blank slate would, upon his immigration to New York, "overcorrect" on brand names, pop culture, and the sad absurdities of late capitalism.

Q. Not to overgeneralize, but it could be argued someone is either intrinsically funny or not. Further, just because someone can make friends and family laugh doesn't necessarily mean he or she can "write funny." Were you a funny kid and when did you figure out that extended to the written word?

A. I think I can say I was aware of a comic disposition fairly early on. I certainly had that. When I was in fifth or sixth grade, a local library had a writing competition and I wrote a story hardboiled detective story that was like Raymond Chandler mixed with tentacled alien — and I won $50. That was like a million to a kid and, equally important, it was an early signal that this was something I enjoy doing and seemed somewhat natural. I think seeing life comically is a great shield or suit of armor, if you will, for some of the knocks life delivers. It's certainly helped me. And, as Martin Amis said, "Life is funny and so novels should be funny, too."

Q. A residency at the Merrill House is not your first on-site fellowship. Is it a bit strange to acclimate oneself to a new environment — with a prescribed amount of time — and then immediately be productive?

A. In the months leading up to (a residency), it's pretty great, like you're anticipating going on vacation. As it gets closer, the spring gets a bit more tightly coiled but ultimately it's a pretty easy situation to jump into. I'm very cognizant, as you say, that I'm there for a limited time with a specific purpose. And so there's this great freedom and a sense of, "If not now, when?" And you certainly don't have to worry about dusting the house.

Q. This is your first time in this part of Connecticut. What do you think?

A. I've been soaking up the atmosphere, both in this wonderful home and in the area. There's an incredible library and there are chaise lounges everywhere. It's as though James (Merrill) and (his partner) David (Noyes Jackson) built this place for mentally stimulating idleness. To be here feels like a true indulgence. And the village is beautiful. I just take walk around and breathe the oxygen. The timing is perfect, too: It's autumn. I've also explored Mystic and Westerly a bit. The Merrill board members have been great and generous and it's been totally enjoyable to negotiate the exploration of this area with leading a monastic life of productivity.

SOME LAUGHABLE RECOMMENDATIONS

James Merrill House writer-in-residence Ryan Chapman lists some of his favorite comic novels and comments on each.

"Treasure Island!!!" by Sara Levine — The rare novel about the perils of loving novels too much. (Aside from Don Quixote, I suppose.)

"Michael Kohlhaas" by Heinrich von Kleist — The most off-the-rails political allegory for 2020 was published by a suicidal German over 200 years ago.

"Lost for Words" by Edward St. Aubyn — A light scything of the Booker Prizes, just in time for award season, from the writer of the Patrick Melrose novels (one of the major achievements in recent British literature).

"Picture" by Lillian Ross — While this is a piece of reportage, its depiction of film director John Huston's troubles adapting "The Red Badge of Courage" is full of comedy and accidental self-laceration.

"Jernigan" by David Gates — Up there with Frederick Exley's "A Fan Notes" and Martin Amis's "Money" for its brilliance in terms of voice, sentence line, and dark comedy.