By the Book (22 page)

If you could require the president to read one book, what would it be?

Probably
The Gathering Storm
, the first volume in Winston Churchill's World War II memoir, for its sense of helpless spectatorhood as the world stumbled toward utter catastrophe. There were several opportunities to forestall disaster, but all of them were blocked by apparently implacable opposition. Perhaps the rise of a Nazi state won't happen again (or perhaps it will), or perhaps the potential disaster might be financial or meteorological, but I would hope the book might show a president that any and all efforts are worth it, come what may, that success is absolutely mandatory, and that prevention is always, always better than cure.

Regrets: Is there a book you wish you'd never read?

Not really. I've read plenty of subpar stuff, but bad can be as illuminating as good. What I regret is that perhaps because of the time and place I grew up, and the way I was raised and educated, I was far too deferential for far too long: if I didn't enjoy a book, I assumed it was my fault. Later I realized it could be the book's fault. I wish that had happened earlier.

What were your favorite books as a child?

Too many to list individually, but they all fell into one of two categories: either straightforward wish fulfillment, or explorations of exotic foreign places. The wish-fulfillment books were, looking back, simple psychological triggers: kids roaming free, having fun, with parents and authority figures notably absent. I remember wishing I was an orphan, which was unkind, I suppose. The Famous Five books, by Enid Blyton, would be typical examples.

The exotic foreign adventures were obvious antidotes to late-'50s, early-'60s provincial Britain, which was a pinched, narrow, dull, gray place from a child's perspective. In my mind I was always in jungles or on tropical islands. I remember very well
The White Rajah
, by Nicholas Monsarrat, which had the added advantage of being a good-brother, bad-brother story (I was the bad, obviously), and it had the first real “wow moment” I can remember in terms of plotting.

If you could meet any writer, dead or alive, who would it be? And what would you want to know?

I'll have to go with the elephant in the room—William Shakespeare. I'd ask him: Dude, did you know how great you were? Were you aware at the time of the sheer incandescent beauty of, say,
Romeo and Juliet
? Or were you just scuffling along like the rest of us, trying to make a living?

And possibly as a supplementary: Why did you make
Richard III
so damn long? Were you getting paid by the word, or what?

And if you could meet a fictional character?

Sherlock Holmes, probably. I'd say, Teach me something.

If somebody walked in on you writing one of your books, what would they see? What does your work space look like?

I live on the twenty-fifth floor of my building (without a night stand) and work in an identical apartment line on the seventh floor. So my commute to the office is seventeen floors in the elevator. (Not eighteen, because of the building's apparent triskaidekaphobia.) The office is a 950-square-foot loft-style space. I simplified the kitchen—no stove, just a sink and two coffee machines. The main room has a fifteen-foot run of desking, backed by file cabinets, with bookcases on the end walls. My productivity breakthrough was to keep my writing computer off-line. If I want to surf or check e-mail, I have to move six feet to another computer. Not far, but enough of a physical disincentive to mostly keep my nose to the grindstone. What would be the bedroom is a library, with an Eames lounge chair and ottoman, for the essential lying-down-staring-into-space component of writing, and on the shelves I try to collect my foreign editions, one of every title in every language.

If someone walked in, they'd see me at the right-hand desk, typing in an inelegant two-index-finger style, periodically sitting back, scratching my head, and looking at the view, which is of the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings, and which never fails to delight me.

What book should everyone read before dying?

My newest hardcover.

What do you plan to read next?

My to-be-read pile is enormous, but winking ominously at me is Jane Austen's
Emma
. I have never read Jane Austen—in my American wife's eyes an incredible deficiency for an Englishman, matched only by the fact that I don't really like Mozart. I hadn't read
Jane Eyre
either, until she made me, and I'm glad I did, so I'll get to
Emma
eventually—but perhaps not soon.

Lee Child
is the author of a series of thrillers featuring the protagonist Jack Reacher, including
Killing Floor
,
The Enemy
, and
One Shot.

 

I'd Love to Meet (Continued)

I would enjoy having lunch with J. K. Rowling. I'd probe her imagination and ask how she is dealing so well with her success and multimillionaire celebrity status.

—
Colin Powell

Edgar Allan Poe. I don't have a question, but dude just seems like he could use a hug.

—
Ira Glass

I took this question so seriously I lost hours to it. I went through all of my favorite writers, discarding them for various reasons: P. G. Wodehouse, for instance, was so shy that it might be a very awkward meeting. Judging by his letters, his main interests were Pekingese dogs and writing methodology. As I don't own a Peke I've got a feeling we'd just discuss laptops rather than exploring the secrets of his genius. I finally narrowed the field to two: Colette and Dickens. If Colette were prepared to talk freely, it would be the meeting of a lifetime because she led such an incredible life (her biography,
Secrets of the Flesh
, by Judith Thurman, is one of my all-time favorites). By the narrowest of margins, though, I think I'd meet Dickens. What would I want to know? Everything.

—
J. K. Rowling

Mark Twain, but when he was forty, not seventy. He was a pretty nasty old man. I'm not sure what I would ask Mark Twain, but I'm pretty sure it would not be for investment advice.

—
John Grisham

A wonderful writer has given the best of herself or himself in the work. I think many of them are frustrated by the thinness and inadequacy of ordinary spoken language, of ordinary contact even with the people they know best and love best. They turn to writing for this reason. I think many of them are magnanimous in a degree their lives cannot otherwise express. To meet Emily Dickinson or Henry James would be, from their side, to intrude on them, maybe even to make them feel inadequate to expectation. I can't imagine being a sufficient reason for the disruption. We do have their books. That said, I would like to meet William James.

—
Marilynne Robinson

George Orwell. I would start by asking about the mustache.

—
Dave Eggers

I would love to meet J. K. Rowling and tell her how much I admire her writing and am amazed by her imagination. I read every Harry Potter book as it came out and looked forward to each new one. I am rereading them now with my kids and enjoying them every bit as much. She made me look at jelly beans in a whole new way.

—
Sheryl Sandberg

I think I would like to meet Charles Dickens—I would just really want to ask him, “Really, how do you do that?”

—
Caroline Kennedy

Old Daddy Shakespeare, of course. I don't believe in asking writers questions. I'd just follow him about for a day and see what the routine was. I'd be invisible, of course. I wouldn't want to spook him.

—
Hilary Mantel

Sorry to be boringly predictable, but Shakespeare. Who are you? And how did a humble country boy like you become the greatest genius, and part creator, of our beloved English language? Might you have been even better if you'd studied at Oxford or Cambridge?

—
Richard Dawkins

I'd like to ask Shakespeare if he composed while walking, or was he entirely sedentary?

—
Sting

Arnold Schwarzenegger

What book is on your night stand now?

Right now I'm reading a book called
Incognito
, by David Eagleman, about the human brain. I've always been interested in psychology, so learning about the things that influence our thinking is really important for me. In bodybuilding, I was known for “psyching” out my opponents with mind tricks. I wish I had this book then because the stuff I was doing was Mickey Mouse compared with what's in this book.

What was the last truly great book you read?

Walter Isaacson's biography of Steve Jobs. I absolutely love to hear stories about people who have tremendous vision; and when you talk about vision, Steve Jobs has to be in the conversation. He was such a revolutionary. It is completely inspirational to read about someone who saw the world, imagined something better, and then went out and made his vision a reality.

I got to know Steve when I was governor of California, and he wanted to help pass a law to encourage organ donation. A lot of people have the drive to be successful, but not the same drive to give back once they've found success. Steve saw what it was like to desperately need an organ, and he could have easily just paid for his operation and been done with it. Instead, he came with his big vision and wanted to rewrite the laws to make it easier. He did the necessary work, and we were able to hammer out a law and push it through. I think that his compassion should be a bigger part of his legacy. His story is the ultimate California dream.

What is your favorite literary genre? Any guilty pleasures?

I prefer nonfiction, especially biographies and history books. You could spend your whole life reading history and you would still have several more lifetimes' worth of learning to do. I don't have much time in my schedule to read, so when I have a chance to sit down and get into a book, I want to make sure it is a story of greatness that inspires and teaches.

Some of my favorite books about politics are Reagan's autobiography,
An American Life
, as well as Lou Cannon's incredible anthology about him, and James Wooten's
Dasher: The Roots and the Rising of Jimmy Carter
. Of course I have mentioned many times how much Milton and Rose Friedman's
Free to Choose
contributed to my economic views.

And what books would you suggest to an aspiring governor?

I think Doris Kearns Goodwin's
Team of Rivals
is incredibly important. Today's politicians can learn so much from Lincoln. I think the most important lesson is that, despite our politics, we should never treat each other as enemies. We can have disagreements about the direction of the country, but at the end of the day we all want to serve our country. Lincoln proved a powerful lesson by appointing his critics and political foes to his cabinet. He wanted the best minds around him offering advice. Not Republican or Democrat minds. Just the best minds. All of us can learn from that.

Are there any books you found to be particularly insightful about California?

I think any of Kevin Starr's books fit the bill. No one—no one—knows California like Kevin Starr. When I ran for governor, I read binder after binder of briefings, but none of it taught me as much as one lunch with Kevin. He is an incredible historian, and he writes in a way that always makes what he's saying interesting. To this day, every time I see Kevin, I learn something new.

If you could require the president to read one book, what would it be?

I could never choose one book for a president. There are so many things you need to learn. I would have to say, “Here is a book about Eisenhower building the highway system, so you can read about the vision it takes to build up our country, because we need to build again. Here is a book about how we developed our current energy policy, because we need to learn from that as we plan for our future energy needs.” Then I would give them a kindergarten teacher's manual and let them know, “You're going to need this when you deal with Congress.”

What were your favorite books as a child? Did you have a favorite character or hero?

When I was young, we were constantly exposed to the works of Peter Rosegger, who was a hero in Styria, my home state. He wrote incredible stories with a focus on our region, so he was one of the favorites.

We also constantly read these terribly violent stories by the Grimm Brothers. I mean, the cleaned-up versions of these are nowhere near the horror stories we used to read. It's no wonder my brother was a total scaredy-cat and afraid to walk home alone after you realize he had been exposed to the tales of the Grimm Brothers.