People You Should Know About: George Saunders

George Saunders / American / 1958-

I am taking a nonfiction writing class at the University of Washington; it started in early January and goes through June. It's been great so far -- good teachers, interesting classmates and lots of stimulation.

Last week we were assigned two essays by George Saunders. I had heard of him vaguely as he is an occasional contributor to The New Yorker (most often in "Shouts and Murmurs," the short humor piece in most issues.)

Eventually we will write our own story based on one of the two extended essays we read, which I expect to be quite challenging. For now, here is the short piece I wrote about Saunders's work, which I thought was great and worth anyone's time.

Though very different in style, the two George Saunders essays “The Braindead Megaphone” and “Buddha Boy” both reveal a writer with an eye for detail, a hunger for truth and a rich inner life.

Written in the aftermath of the US invasion of Iraq in 2003, “The Braindead Megaphone” is a logical, hilarious and terrifying indictment of public debate, especially that part of it manifested in the media. One notable and brief paragraph reveals what is at stake: “A culture’s ability to understand the world and itself is critical to its survival. But today we are led into the arena of public debate by seers whose main gift is their ability to compel people to continue to watch them.”

Whether one favors O’Reilly or Olbermann, it’s hard to deny one of the central assertions of Saunders’s essay, which is that much of what passes for discourse in just commerce. And the result in not pretty or helpful.

Saunders uses a mixture of logic and humor, along with an almost sneaky building-block approach. The essay opens with a brief meditation about “a guy standing in a field in the year 1200.” At first we think this may be nothing more than a humorous piece about our crazy-making high-tech lifestyle. Then, by the end of the second numbered section, some of us are thinking about George W. Bush. By the end of the third section, it’s a full-on “holy crap” moment: we’ve been sucked in.

“Buddha Boy” is twice as long as “Megaphone” and rather than tackling an issue, is an almost entirely chronological narrative of a reporting trip Saunders took to Nepal to see a boy sitting still and meditating, which he had apparently been doing for seven months. As in “Megaphone,” Saunders lulls the reader into thinking the piece is about something less significant than it turns out to be. The first several pages chronicle Saunders’s decision to accept the assignment and the trip to Nepal. Complaints about air travel and the inconveniences of visiting the developing world are not new, but Saunders uses humor, details and creative imagery (“…a button on the overhead console marked Minty Water.”)

As the journey to see Buddha Boy unfolds, Saunders treats us to great descriptions of the sights and sounds (along with the wonder and squalor) of Nepal. Along the way, we get several looks at Saunders’s inner life, and we learn that he’s significantly more open-minded and curious – even eager to believe -- than we expected.

Among the more interesting things about this essay is the juxtaposition of a deep and mysterious subject with the very linear narrative the author uses. Profoundly effective, this approach allows the reader to relax and easily follow the time-arc of the story, leaving the mind and heart open to the fun surprises tucked neatly into the meaning-arc.