Interview with Blackbird Crow Raven After Winning the Pulitzer Prize
“Taterskin & The Eco Defenders” Selected by the Pulitzer Committee
The following is an interview with Blackbird Crow Raven by Niles Finnety about Raven’s novel Taterskin & The Eco Defenders winning the Pulitzer Prize for 2022. This is a follow-up to a previous interview which can be found here.
Niles: Congratulations, Blackbird, on winning this year’s Pulitzer Prize in the category “Science fiction/fantasy/social commentary/picaresque time travel novels influenced by Dr. Dolittle and The Monkey Wrench Gang” for Taterskin & The Eco Defenders.
Blackbird: Thanks, N-Fin.
Niles: Do you think your book deserved to win?
Blackbird: Yes, definitely.
Niles: What, no false modesty? Don’t you know it’s de rigueur to say that you were ‘humbled’ by winning the award?
Blackbird: That makes no sense. How can you be humbled by winning such a prestigious prize? The tendency is for the opposite to happen. When people say they are humbled by such things, it’s not merely false modesty — they either don’t know what the word “humbled” means, or they are trying to pull something.
Niles: Pull something? Pull what?
Blackbird: Either your leg, a fast one, or the wool over your eyes. Some examples of when you’re legitimately and understandably humbled are when you:
1) Imperially make an appearance at the top of the stairs, puff out your chest, sniff, jut your nose into the air, and commence to strut down the steps — only to trip over your feet and tumble to the landing in a crumpled heap
2) Insistently calling for the ball to be thrown your way in a football game only to drop it when it is passed to you
3) Showing off your mad skills by playing the guitar behind your head but then hitting a sour note.
Those are reasons for being humbled — you displayed hubris, and were then exposed as a poser. Humbled by winning a prestigious award? Not likely. In fact, you have to guard against becoming a pompous jackass in a situation like that. Pretending to be humbled by an honor bestowed is the first sign of such jackassian pomposity.
Niles: You said that you deserved to win the award; it sounds like there’s no need for you to worry about becoming a pompous jackass — because you already are one!
Blackbird: I wouldn’t say that; but then, again, I’m biased toward myself. Let me be clear: I feel I deserved to win, and my book being chosen was a satisfying validation of that notion. It made me proud; it didn’t humble me. Let me illustrate it this way: It’s similar to when you see a movie that you think is great (or terrible); nobody’s going to talk you out of your opinion of it, but it’s nice to have your view echoed by at least some of your peers, or by movie critics — it’s a consolation to know that you didn’t experience two hours of temporary insanity or philistinism as you were watching the film.
Niles: So you knew in your heart that your book was great, but having it win the Pulitzer Prize proves to you that it really is great — is that what you’re saying?
Blackbird: What I really think, Niles, if you must know, is that such awards are kind of arbitrary, or even bogus. Did I deserve to win? Yes, but many other books probably deserved to, too. Besides, who can really say which is the best book of the year — or movie, painting, poem, peach cobbler recipe, or what have you — unless they’ve read or watched or viewed or tasted them all? It’s impossible! It’s a Sisyphean task. Truth be told, a few people read a handful of books, consult with each other, then pick the ‘best’ one to win the Pulitzer. If they had been introduced to any number of other books, and had taken the time to read them, one of those others probably would have become their choice as the “best.”
As an example: Who’s the best singer in the world? It could be a professional vocalist, who you have heard sing, or it could be a celebrated singer who you haven’t heard (perhaps because they perform in a genre you don’t listen to); on the other hand, it could be a complete unknown, for example, a sheepherder in New Zealand, a housewife in Kansas, a farmer in Bhutan, . . . you see what I mean. And who’s to say, anyway? Art is a subjective thing. Opinions on which book is the best cannot be proven right or wrong. All a person can really say is which is their favorite from a vanishingly tiny subset of all those in existence.
Niles: So you’re saying —
Blackbird: I’m saying that I deserve to win the Pulitzer as much as the next guy; some probably deserve it more than I do, and others less, but it doesn’t really mean much in the long run. The real advantage of winning such a prize is the publicity that the work thus receives, exposing the book or movie or song or whatever it is to a larger audience. And if the artist’s product has a message, winning an award is key to spreading that message.
Niles: What’s the message in Taterskin & The Eco Defenders? Or is it simply meant to be an entertaining diversion for people who like animals and time travel?
Blackbird: A book must first be entertaining, otherwise few will read it; but the theme — or message, as you put it — of Taterskin & The Eco Defenders is that we all have the responsibility to try to make the world a better place.
Niles: How? I’m not a pompous jackass like you — I have no delusions of grandeur or pie-in-the-sky fantasies about being able to ‘make the world a better place.’ I’m just a reporter on a small-town newspaper. People read what I write to learn the facts related to current events (what happened where and when, who did it, how, and maybe why); they don’t want to be influenced by my opinion or preached at.
Blackbird: You mean you’re “just a reporter” the same way that Mark Twain, Edward R. Murrow, Helen Thomas, Thomas Friedman, Paul Krugman, Frank Bruni, and Maureen Dowd — to name just a few examples — were or are “just reporters”?
Niles: Edward who? Helen who? I don’t have time to —
Blackbird: I’m not forcing you to do anything; I was just answering your question. Getting back to the meaning of Taterskin & The Eco Defenders — its message, or theme: A related subtext is that people can change for the better; personal improvement is possible.
Niles: Whatever. Let’s change the subject. I read that Taterskin & The Eco Defenders is going to be made into a movie. Have you been tapped to write the screenplay for it?
Blackbird: I wouldn’t mind having a role in writing the screenplay. Also, I would like to have at least a cameo in the film; it doesn’t matter much which part. I would love to play Albert, but I’m probably too old to play his character. We’ll see what happens. At any rate, the talking animals are the stars of the show, and they will of course be either animatronic or CGI or whatever that sort of technical wizardry is called.
Niles: How much money do you think you’ll make from the movie?
Blackbird: None of your beeswax, bud. Besides, I don’t know.
Niles: Will you hold out for a big payday, or a ‘blockbuster deal’?
Blackbird: Wow, you’re really fixated on money, aren’t you? But I will answer your question: That depends. What I want is a good round sum up front and then a percentage of the gross revenue — not the net, but the gross.
Niles: Why is it such a big deal to you that you get a percentage of the gross and not the net? Wouldn’t a larger percentage of the net equal or exceed a smaller percentage of the gross?
Blackbird: I don’t trust the sleight-of-hand accounting methods some of the film companies use. There are times when they’ve raked in a metric ton of money from a flick but still manipulate the financials so that — on paper — they lost revenue or merely broke even; when they do that, the writer who is to receive a percentage of the net gets nothing — nil, nada, zilch!
Niles: You’re so cynical!
Blackbird: I’m observant.
Niles: Are you going to give an acceptance speech at the Pulitzer Prize ceremony?
Blackbird: Well, it would look strange for me to just walk up there, grab my suitable-for-framing certificate, and then simply walk away, wouldn’t it? In other words: Yes.
Niles: What will you say?
Blackbird: My speech will be short and sweet. Something like: Thank you. I have nothing else to say; all that I wanted to say is in the book. If you really want to know what my thoughts are, read the book. If you have questions, I will field them at a later time and place.
Niles: Alrighty then.
Interview conducted by N. Finnety deep within the Santa Lucia Mountains of Big Sur, California.