Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, April 22, 1993 TAG: 9304210190
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BETH MACY
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
I think of Carolyn Chute as a warrior in the trenches - dirt under her fingernails, typewriter correction fluid on her flannel-shirt sleeve, stacks of scribbled-on hard copies cluttering up her cabin in the woods.
I picture her at work a few months ago on her third book, "Merry Men," which is due out in November.
One of the lenses in her glasses had fallen out and broken, and she didn't have money for a new pair. Already past her deadline, Chute kept on working nine hours a day, seven days a week - one hand on her typewriter keys, the other over her squinted left eye.
Carolyn Chute is Hollins College's current writer-in-residence.
And yes, she definitely stands out among the bobbed haircuts and Italian loafers with her uncooperative long hair and her trademark leather work boots.
She's so hard up to earn her paycheck at Hollins that she's been spotted accosting even sociology majors on campus, asking them to bring their papers to her "rum" (Mainespeak for "room," or office) to critique.
You get the feeling that Chute stands out wherever she is, though. Whether it's in her hometown of North Parsonsfield (Mainespeak: "Possumsfield") - home of 1,000 people, 1,000 dogs and five Baptist churches - or at Hollins College, reading her work and making funny asides before a snowbound handful during the Blizzard of '93.
Although Chute's work is serious stuff - heartened portrayals of poverty, love and the human condition - Chute herself is an impish, playful sort. Writer George Garrett teases her about her bag lady demeanor right to her face, and she loves it.
A few weeks ago when writing program director Richard Dillard drove her to hear her friend Denise Giardina read at Virginia Tech, the two of them sat in the front row, discussing beforehand the worst questions they'd ever been asked at a literary reading.
"We came to the conclusion that the worst question you could ever get asked is, `Where do you get your inspiration?' " Dillard recalls.
Naturally, when it came time for questions at the end of Giardina's reading, Chute's hand was the first to go up. Her question: "Richard wants to know: Where do you get your inspiration?"
Last week while a newspaper photographer snapped Chute's picture, I asked where she gets her inspiration. She laughed, then changed the subject:
"I hate getting my picture made; I hate my face. My face looks like Jethrine on `The Beverly Hillbillies.' " (Jethrine is Jethro dressed up as his female cousin.)
Chute cringes when her first book, "The Beans of Egypt, Maine," is mentioned, calling it her "practice book" and telling Hollins students not to read it.
The book is well-known because of the mother lode of media hype it sparked, the 45-year-old says. "All the reporters came up to do the `Poor Woman Writes Book' story. They said my people were trash; they said we came out from under rocks."
Before Chute was published, she earned money plucking chickens, driving a school bus and writing the lost dogs/cats column for a newspaper. Her husband, Michael, still mows graveyards for a living.
Chute's second book, "Letourneau's Used Auto Parts," got less attention than the first - even though many believe it's a better novel. Chute's writing continues to improve, Dillard theorizes, partly because she doesn't take the publicity seriously.
"She has the nerve to tell the story of poor people's lives perfectly straight" with no condescension, he says. "She's saying, `These are real people, and they matter.' "
Although Chute's new book will focus on some of the same people in the same mythical place, it's more political than the other two. "It's a lot about how we're totally dependent on corporations and less dependent on human beings," Chute says.
"For thousands of years we could take care of ourselves. Now we're told that sitting at a desk is better than working the land, that keeping our hands clean is better."
The '90s-style Robin Hood in the book, for instance, has a hard time robbing the rich because of security systems and helicopters.
Although Chute likes it at Hollins, she can't wait till next week when she gets to fly back home. She misses her husband terribly, as well as her dogs Homer, Margaret, Helen and Sweet Miss Ebbie Roux.
The last time she was gone for two months, her husband didn't do dishes the whole time - "and then he blamed it on the dogs," she says, smiling.
I like to picture her back home, doing the dishes and then doing what she does best - writing about people with love and with respect.
As she writes in the epigraph to her second book: "Any bird, bug or animal including the human animal can be self-serving, cool, and steely-hearted. It is only the superhuman who can rise to Compassion."
Macy Beth Macy, a features department staff writer, is a May candidate for the master's degree in creative writing at Hollins College. Her column runs Thursdays.
by CNB