"mce_href="Today's Interview: Wendy Wasserstein
An American Daughter: A Chat with Wendy Wasserstein
Conducted by Christine Cody, Nonfiction Editor
Playwright Wendy Wasserstein gets it. Capturing the essential elements of contemporary women’s lives, probing, with humor & sensibility, predicaments facing educated women who came of age in the second half of the 20th century, Wasserstein keenly articulates women’s passions, friendships, attachments, & losses & returns them to us as art.
Her first play, Any Woman Can’t (1973), is a cutting farce on one the major themes of her entire oeuvre -- a woman’s attempts to succeed on the same terms as men. Wasserstein’s 1989 play, The Heidi Chronicles, won both the Pulitzer Prize for Drama & the first ever Tony Award given to a female playwright. Clearly, Wasserstein knows firsthand what it feels like to smash a glass ceiling & to grapple with career ambitions & personal fulfillment.
Here, Wasserstein talks with nonfiction editor Christine Cody about her new collection of essays, Shiksa Goddess, as well as themes that concern both her life & her writing: identity, motherhood, self-esteem, & humor.
Let's start with the title essay. What was it like to find out that your denominational heritage is not Jewish but actually Episcopalian? Did this news change anything for you? Did it change anything for your mother, Lola? Does it change anything for you as a mother?
Wendy Wasserstein: It came as a shock to me. It happened just after Madeline Albright & Tom Stoppard realized they were both Jewish. And of course my favorite headline in the New York Post is "Oy Vey Hillary is Jewish!" This was because Hillary Rodham Clinton's 4th cousin 5 times removed was married to a Jewish woman for one week. Lola, my mother, thought a lot of Jewish men marry shiksas. She thought it made my chances greater.
I will always be a Jewish mother.
I was recently rereading An American Daughter, which you produced for TV last year & which starred the incomparable Christine Lahti. Your characters are so strong. They even populate your essays in Shiksa Goddess. What is your process for writing plays? Do you begin with character, or do you begin with conflict?
WW: I always begin with character. I find once I can get them talking, then I know where the play or the story will be going. I write from character so it begins with people talking, which is why I like writing plays. But then I cut it back to make it work. All the plays are different in structure: The Heidi Chronicles is episodic, & The Sisters Rosenweig is your basic well-made boulevard comedy, whereas Old Money,, my newest play, goes back & forth in time, more like a dance. I'm so glad you enjoyed An American Daughter. That play is one of my favorites.
Humor is an essential element in this new collection of essays, as well as in your plays. When were you first aware of your own sense of humor, of wit, of irony, & of satire? How did you develop these qualities?
WW: I was the youngest of four children. Being funny is the way I figured
out the best way to survive. My mother Lola is innately hilarious. Once your mother serves hamburger in butter sauce to the Rabbi's children you know you're on the road to something.
If you write comedy, it has a little bit to do with having distance. Being able to look at any situation somewhat ironically, being able to pretty much find the holes in anything, lets one look at something & think -- oh, come on, this is just pretentious. It keeps one free of self-pity.
Last year, at the age of 49, you gave birth to a daughter. When I read of it in “Days of Awe: The Birth of Lucy Jane,” in The New Yorker, I was amazed at the purity & the intimacy & the bravery of your piece. You close Shiksa Goddess with this essay. How did you feel after it was first published? Did you feel vulnerable?
WW: I think so much about pregnancy is still mythical & mysticized that I wanted to honestly tell the story of the birth of Lucy Jane. No one had prepared me for any of the possibilities both glorious & terrifying. I did feel vulnerable afterwards. I once sat next a man at a dinner party, &
he said "you're the one who doesn't believe in husbands." But I've also met & spoken to many other parents of premature children who said that story helped them. I also wanted Lucy Jane to have it when she grew up.
What do you want for your daughter that you didn’t have for yourself?
WW:: My daughter’s life is so different than mine because I had siblings. My older sister, this corporate pioneer, took very good care of me, & my brother Bruce was always influential in my life. My mother, Lola, is a dancer. She still wears leather pants; my mother’s a Broadway classic.
I want self-esteem for Lucy, the kind of self-esteem that makes you calm. And hopefully she'll become a gerontologist & take care of us all, especially during global warming.
Has the relationship with your own mother changed since the birth of your daughter?
WW: Yes it has. Lola loves Lucy Jane, in fact, she adores her. I see a link
between them. Some days I find it very moving, other days I think my daughter will start wearing leather pants & will start dancing. They both have great spirit. The birth of Lucy Jane has made me want to write more about my mother.
Do you feel that motherhood influences your work? Are the ideas that interest you shifting?
WW: I began writing Old Money before I was pregnant, & I finished the first draft knowing I was pregnant. The play goes back & forth in time & into the future & it does deal with life & death.
My daughter’s beautiful. That’s the thing -- it’s not just about you, it’s about them & about your relationship with your own mother . . .I think, How long has this been going on?
Conducted by Christine Cody, Nonfiction Editor
Playwright Wendy Wasserstein gets it. Capturing the essential elements of contemporary women’s lives, probing, with humor & sensibility, predicaments facing educated women who came of age in the second half of the 20th century, Wasserstein keenly articulates women’s passions, friendships, attachments, & losses & returns them to us as art.
Her first play, Any Woman Can’t (1973), is a cutting farce on one the major themes of her entire oeuvre -- a woman’s attempts to succeed on the same terms as men. Wasserstein’s 1989 play, The Heidi Chronicles, won both the Pulitzer Prize for Drama & the first ever Tony Award given to a female playwright. Clearly, Wasserstein knows firsthand what it feels like to smash a glass ceiling & to grapple with career ambitions & personal fulfillment.
Here, Wasserstein talks with nonfiction editor Christine Cody about her new collection of essays, Shiksa Goddess, as well as themes that concern both her life & her writing: identity, motherhood, self-esteem, & humor.
Let's start with the title essay. What was it like to find out that your denominational heritage is not Jewish but actually Episcopalian? Did this news change anything for you? Did it change anything for your mother, Lola? Does it change anything for you as a mother?
Wendy Wasserstein: It came as a shock to me. It happened just after Madeline Albright & Tom Stoppard realized they were both Jewish. And of course my favorite headline in the New York Post is "Oy Vey Hillary is Jewish!" This was because Hillary Rodham Clinton's 4th cousin 5 times removed was married to a Jewish woman for one week. Lola, my mother, thought a lot of Jewish men marry shiksas. She thought it made my chances greater.
I will always be a Jewish mother.
I was recently rereading An American Daughter, which you produced for TV last year & which starred the incomparable Christine Lahti. Your characters are so strong. They even populate your essays in Shiksa Goddess. What is your process for writing plays? Do you begin with character, or do you begin with conflict?
WW: I always begin with character. I find once I can get them talking, then I know where the play or the story will be going. I write from character so it begins with people talking, which is why I like writing plays. But then I cut it back to make it work. All the plays are different in structure: The Heidi Chronicles is episodic, & The Sisters Rosenweig is your basic well-made boulevard comedy, whereas Old Money,, my newest play, goes back & forth in time, more like a dance. I'm so glad you enjoyed An American Daughter. That play is one of my favorites.
Humor is an essential element in this new collection of essays, as well as in your plays. When were you first aware of your own sense of humor, of wit, of irony, & of satire? How did you develop these qualities?
WW: I was the youngest of four children. Being funny is the way I figured
out the best way to survive. My mother Lola is innately hilarious. Once your mother serves hamburger in butter sauce to the Rabbi's children you know you're on the road to something.
If you write comedy, it has a little bit to do with having distance. Being able to look at any situation somewhat ironically, being able to pretty much find the holes in anything, lets one look at something & think -- oh, come on, this is just pretentious. It keeps one free of self-pity.
Last year, at the age of 49, you gave birth to a daughter. When I read of it in “Days of Awe: The Birth of Lucy Jane,” in The New Yorker, I was amazed at the purity & the intimacy & the bravery of your piece. You close Shiksa Goddess with this essay. How did you feel after it was first published? Did you feel vulnerable?
WW: I think so much about pregnancy is still mythical & mysticized that I wanted to honestly tell the story of the birth of Lucy Jane. No one had prepared me for any of the possibilities both glorious & terrifying. I did feel vulnerable afterwards. I once sat next a man at a dinner party, &
he said "you're the one who doesn't believe in husbands." But I've also met & spoken to many other parents of premature children who said that story helped them. I also wanted Lucy Jane to have it when she grew up.
What do you want for your daughter that you didn’t have for yourself?
WW:: My daughter’s life is so different than mine because I had siblings. My older sister, this corporate pioneer, took very good care of me, & my brother Bruce was always influential in my life. My mother, Lola, is a dancer. She still wears leather pants; my mother’s a Broadway classic.
I want self-esteem for Lucy, the kind of self-esteem that makes you calm. And hopefully she'll become a gerontologist & take care of us all, especially during global warming.
Has the relationship with your own mother changed since the birth of your daughter?
WW: Yes it has. Lola loves Lucy Jane, in fact, she adores her. I see a link
between them. Some days I find it very moving, other days I think my daughter will start wearing leather pants & will start dancing. They both have great spirit. The birth of Lucy Jane has made me want to write more about my mother.
Do you feel that motherhood influences your work? Are the ideas that interest you shifting?
WW: I began writing Old Money before I was pregnant, & I finished the first draft knowing I was pregnant. The play goes back & forth in time & into the future & it does deal with life & death.
My daughter’s beautiful. That’s the thing -- it’s not just about you, it’s about them & about your relationship with your own mother . . .I think, How long has this been going on?
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posted by Christine Cody at Tuesday, March 24, 2009
