It wasn't the allure of Provincetown's hauntingly beautiful seascape or the thrill of watching hunky vacationers parade up and down Commercial Street that drew Michael Cunningham to Cape Cod shortly after his novel, The Hours, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1999. Plagued by that special brand of self-doubt reserved for those singled out for such an esteemed honor, Cunningham returned to the three-mile-long village, his "home away from home," propelled by the question that all artists must inevitably ask themselves: What do I do next? It seems Cunningham came to Provincetown looking for answers but this time, it quite literally WAS the answer.
"I called Tony Kushner, the only gay male friend of mine who has ever won a Pulitzer," he deadpans, pausing a beat to allow the line to bloom to full effect, "and when I told him how depressed I was because I couldn't figure out what to do next, his first response was 'Well, duh!' Then he said 'Oh, honey ... try to be happy, just hang on ... you'll be fine.'"
For Cunningham, "hanging on" typically means renting a house in Provincetown--which is what he did--when somewhere in between walks along the beach and staring
down the writers' proverbial blank page, Crown Publishing contacted Cunningham with an invitation to contribute to a new series of literary travel books. And there it was: an almost audible click inside the writer's mind that said, yes, THIS is exactly what I want to do next.
"I thought, thank you gods and goddesses! And then I told them I wanted to do Provincetown. There was a slight pause at the other end of the line. I think they were imagining something more along the lines of Paris or Rome, or maybe New York, because I live there. But I don't think I know a New York that others don't already know. But I DO that if you look at the pilgrim monument, the biggest structure in P-town, from a certain angle you can see an image of Donald Duck. And I do know that if you tell the mail clerk you are sending out a poem in the hope that it will be published she will hug it to her breast and bless it with good luck."
Though Cunningham admits he's not quite sure just WHO reads "travel books" ( "I don't know who reads those ... I hope the people at Crown know!" ) , make no mistake, Lands End: A Walk in Provincetown is not your typical travel guide. An interesting hybrid of historical facts and personal observations--some of them endearingly intimate--Lands End reads more like a memoir or diary, featuring P-town as a character that happens to be the diarist's primary object of affection. And what's more, this book doesn't have a door policy: Everyone is admitted whether you've been to Provincetown or not. A sincere interest in nature's majesty and an attraction to learning about people with strange and beautiful emotional tics are all that's required.
"I was definitely nervous about how they [ P-Town residents ] would react to the book. It's a tricky thing when you are writing about a living place or a living person or persons, because it's often a much different idea of what someone has of themselves ... or of a place."
To understand why Cunningham was particularly nervous about the town's reaction, the reader should know that the inhabitants of P-Town are a very proud, tight-knit tribe, brought together by the isolation of cold, bitter winters and by the throngs of outsiders that pour in and out of their small town every summer, as if P-Town were an amusement park whose purpose is to serve their every indulgence.
And what's more, shortly before the debut of Land's End, another book entitled P-Town: Art, Sex and Money on the Outer Cape was published, claiming the town had issues related to homophobia. That book made headlines in The New York Times, and caused quite an uproar among the town's locals. If they weren't suspicious of writers attempting to capture the essence of their mighty little seaside town before this, they certainly were now.
"I purposely didn't read that other book because then I can honestly say I can't comment, when reporters ask me what I thought about it," he says triumphantly. "But I do plan to read it someday. As for my book, I always write with someone in mind. When you make a cake, you have somebody in mind, and same goes for writing, at least for me. In this case I was writing for the town. I just did a reading there and it was different than any other reading I have ever done. I had never read for a public audience before, where I felt so purely and squarely that THIS is who the book is for. I did all this work essentially to bring the book here tonight to read it to you--that's how I felt that night. It was an incredible experience."
This isn't the first time the novelist has been concerned about how readers might respond to his work. Before The Hours was released, the author was convinced that he would lose a substantial portion of his gay male reader base because the book is primarily about women.
"I thought well, so be it, if that's the case. This is what I want to write and if the boys won't stay with me that will have to be OK. But you know, I go to what is considered a very Chelsea-gym and I can't tell you how many guys, who look like the standard issue steroid queen with all their gear on in the right place, have come up to me and said they loved The Hours. And that makes me feel so great. I am awed by where my gay readers are willing to go."
It's likely that with Land's End, gay men will continue to go where Cunningham takes them, though a few select readers may balk at the book's minimal inclusion of sex--especially since P-Town, like most gay travel destinations, has a reputation for being particularly ripe with sexual opportunities. ( And yes, Michael met Kenny, his lover of 15 years, during a memorable stay in Provincetown. )
"Sure gay male sex is part of the landscape, and I do mention it, but if somebody is looking for the book to give them a hard on, they should read another book. No book is meant for every reader, nor should it be, I don't think. That being said, I mention in the book that in P-Town you are able to walk or bike around at night, after the crowd at Spiritus has drifted apart, and you can still feel sexual. You don't have to be having sex, but you still feel sexual, you feel connected to the possibility of it, and I love that! I've never been to a 'gay' place that feels like that. The whole town feels sexual. Of course, you can still have actual sex, and plenty of it, if you want to, but you can also just walk around and kind of absorb it."
"You know," he says again, pausing for effect. "My new book has PLENTY of sex in it!!"
This project, currently untitled, features three linked novellas: the first is a gothic horror story set in the past, the second is a thriller set in present day, and the third is a science-fiction story that takes place in the future. Each novella contains the same set of characters, including an appearance by none other than Walt Whitman.
A sexy-gothic-thriller-sci-fi novel featuring Walt Whitman?! Yes, it is somewhat of a departure for the author, an observation he readily agrees with. But as Cunningham has already discovered, readers tend to follow him where ever he takes them--but will Hollywood? With the film adaptation of The Hours generating a substantial buzz among critics and audiences, will this book follow its predecessor and attract the attention of one of Hollywood's more adventurous directors?
If Hollywood does come knocking again, Cunningham says he is always ready to listen. As for the film version of The Hours, starring Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman, the novelist says he couldn't be more pleased with the end result, though he admits his judgment may be slightly biased.
"It's impossible to take it in, for me, because I know the material so well. I was privy to the production process so I know every decision that was made, in terms of why a scene was shot this way or that way, etc. It's impossible for me to say how someone walking into the theater will feel about the movie, but I loved it. I can't describe or compare the look of the film to any other film I've ever seen. It's like any true work of art in that it looks like itself, it has its own particular quality that is wholly unique."
"I don't have any notions about the 'sacred text' in terms of turning a book into a film, at least for any book of mine," he continues. "When I write something, it's the best that I can do with the plot and characters at that time in my life. I would always write a book differently, even six months after I'm done, because I'm already in a different place. So, if someone wants to make a movie or an opera or a soap opera of one of my books I say, Great! Let's see what and where you can take it!"
Land's End: A Walk in Provincetown, $16, August 2002.
The Hours ( film ) opens in select cities Dec. 27, 2002 and nationwide, January 2003.
