Harry Crews

Harry Crews is one of the most original and important living American novelists there is. He was born the son of sharecroppers in Georgia in 1935. He served as a marine during the Korean War and since then he’s had just about every job a man might have to take in his lifetime—from working in a cigar factory all the way up (or maybe down) to teaching creative writing.

His books are bitterly funny and expertly observed shots of fiction taken straight out of his own life. He can outfight, outfuck, outwrite, and outthink anyone from the entire generation of little boys that came after him, and he’s still kicking today. Harry is down there right now in his secret hideout in Florida as you read this, and he’s working away on a new novel. He says it might be his last because he’s sick. But we don’t know. There might never have been a human being who combines smart and tough as perfectly as Harry Crews does, and we wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still cranking out his amazing books when we’re all old and gray too.
Vice: Hey Harry. Is this still a good time to talk?

Harry Crews: I think we said that I would just give you a try on the phone today and see what happened.
Definitely. I just don’t want to climb up your ass.
Right.
Getting Naked With Harry Crews I’ve looked at it. That’s the compilation of interviews with you, right?
And it’s every interview you’d ever given up to that point.
Your enthusiasm for all that hasn’t diminished as you’ve gotten older?
And she’s hanging out with you down there?
That’s good news.
Did she know your books before she met you?
You probably have some scary fans.
And you taught writing for some time, right?
It takes a lot of time, doesn’t it?
That’s probably a blessing.
Do you write for a certain amount of hours every day?
What can you tell me about the book that you’re working on now?
The Wrong Affair You mean it’s based on real experiences.
Karate Is a Thing of the Spirit The Hawk Is Dying The memoir you wrote of your childhood was amazing.
Tenant farming is a sickening system.
Sure, I’ve got a little time. But we’re kind of already doing the interview now.
Is there a time of day that’s better than another?
Last time we talked on the phone, you told me that you’re very ill.
I guess a lot of great writers have worked while seriously ill.
Speaking of which, you told me about a recent fight you got in. You got sliced up the belly and it left a massive scar.
And it happened at a fish camp, you said?
Kind of ironic, getting gutted at a fish camp.
What’s in there, catfish?
Yeah, but can you tell me how you ended up getting split open?
What is it with this guy and you?
How long ago was this?
But he came back when you got hurt.
It’s an evil, evil thing.
Were you drinking or something?
So now you’ve got an arthritic neck. That’s the kind of stuff that makes me feel terrified of growing old.
So don’t behave like a senior citizen, basically.
And that’s just the way you’ve always been?
Did you ever think that anger would go away if you reached some kind of a brass ring, like finishing a certain amount of novels or finding the right woman?
You can set yourself aside from it.
I wish I could say the same.
Some, but I also know that it would have gotten way worse if I’d kept going.
I read a biography of him, but it was a long time ago.
Right.
Because he had too much taken away from him.
There’s no point in getting part of the way there.
Maybe he did the right thing at the end then.
Why do so many writers end up being drunks?
A lot of people seem to think it goes hand in hand with the solitary life a writer needs to lead to get their work done.