Patricia Lockwood encourages you to recognize that the internet constitutes real life

Patricia Lockwood believes individuals feel uneasy accepting that the internet is part of real life. This contributes to her view that novels centered on the internet — such as her 2021 work, “No One Is Talking About This,” which tells the story of a social media icon whose digital existence is disrupted by a familial crisis — are frequently regarded as trivial.

“To be honest, it caused people to malfunction, as if they were unsure of how to cope,” Lockwood remarked regarding her inaugural novel at a recent Writers Speak event organized by the Mahindra Humanities Center. “There still lingered a belief that the internet didn’t belong in books, and that truly intrigued me.”

She speculated that this unease arises from individuals viewing their online lives as private and somewhat shameful. Acknowledging that the internet is real life implies that a person’s digital self is their genuine self, Lockwood explained to the gathering in Fong Auditorium.

The poet, novelist, and writer of the 2017 memoir “Priestdaddy,” who is recognized for her incisive literary style and bold social media engagement, conversed with FAS Assistant Professor of English Tara K. Menon about character development, the challenges of long-form writing in an age defined by micro-content, and the skill of entering another author’s mindset.

“I believe it’s valuable to dedicate your life to reading and writing, and worthwhile to learn from others on how they have approached these endeavors,” remarked Lockwood, mentioning that if given a free day, she would likely devote eight hours to reading.

Lockwood’s characters are rich and multi-dimensional both on the printed page and in reality — none more so than her father, a gun-enthusiast Navy veteran who became a Catholic priest while already married with five children. Whether penning about him or her fictional creations, she emphasized that accurately capturing their dialogue is essential.

“If I can replicate the speech patterns of my parents and transcribe those peculiar phrasings, then you possess them,” Lockwood noted. “You don’t necessarily need access to their private thoughts — as I don’t understand why they act as they do — but I comprehend how they sound, how they interact with each other, and how they relate to me.”

Lockwood reflected that her deeply “sheltered” childhood in the rectory, where her family resided post her father’s priesthood, sharpened her observational skills regarding the world.

“I didn’t experience the world like most people do; hence, my interactions with it felt unique and cherished,” she shared. “Strolling around Harvard Square turns into a tremendously rare occurrence, and you notice every detail of it. If you pay attention to every dimension, you document them. That’s how it functions for me.”

“I engage in [literary criticism] as if it is a form of celestial homework. I genuinely feel you are navigating through someone’s intellect.”

Lockwood, who did not pursue a college education, expressed that independently delving into literature provided her a sense of liberty that has been beneficial rather than obstructive to her writing. She was able to select her own versions of Tolstoy and choose not to engage with any supplemental texts or biographies that did not captivate her interest.

“I didn’t experience anxiety regarding interpretation, honestly,” Lockwood stated. “I was encountering them as an expression of creativity, and from a young age, I endeavored to immerse myself in that creativity and capability.”

Her inclination is to write with her legs propped up in bed, a notebook balanced on her lap, and a cat beside her; however, persistent migraines have compelled her to adopt a more ergonomic arrangement. Nowadays, Lockwood writes perched at one end of a sofa, with her legs extended onto another. She demonstrated her iconic posture on a couch that was hastily rolled out onstage, much to the audience’s delight.

Menon holds Lockwood’s literary critique in high regard, especially her piercing review of John Updike published in the London Review of Books, so much so that she created a list outlining what makes Lockwood such an exceptional critic.

“One aspect that seems increasingly rare is your willingness to do two things: declare whether something is commendable or not, and express your personal enjoyment or lack thereof,” Menon remarked. “It’s even more remarkable if you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I do it because it is some form of celestial homework,” Lockwood reiterated. “I sense you are traversing through another’s cognitive processes. You are entering their era, their thoughts, and their talent. If you perceive your own talent as constrained, it’s as if you temporarily adopt their skills. It’s truly transformative. You rise above your own limitations.”

In the Q&A session, an audience member inquired whether the form of the novel can endure amid an age of micro-content and diminishing attention spans. Lockwood responded that some individuals indeed appreciate long-form narratives even when surrounded by brief content. She warned against the urge to seek a formula for diminishing attention spans or to adopt new literary styles merely to chase perceived trends.

“I don’t believe that because our online writing takes this shape, it necessarily reflects actual appetite,” Lockwood commented. “I think that novels cultivate appetites. If you appreciate the ‘thick’ content, stick with it; there’s no need to strip that away. Those in search of consolation, those desiring an escape from fragmentation, turn to writers like you for that purpose.”