John Hodgman debates the existence of Chicago
Writer defends his 'Four Dubious Fables Of Chicago' from new book
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John Hodgman: I find it very interesting that you’re publishing a fantasy newspaper in a fantasy city. It’s a very interesting sort of metafiction experiment that you’re working on, and I admire it, I have to say, as an author of a fake almanac.
D: So it’s your opinion that I’m actually calling from somewhere else?
JH: Obviously. It’s not my opinion, but that’s okay, I’ll keep it up for your sake. Yeah, you’re calling from Chicago. Sure.
D: Where did the idea for this part of The Areas Of My Expertise come from?
JH: I live in New York City, but all around me are people talking all the time about Chicago. Some of these people even claim to have lived there, and I feel terrible for them. It was actually inspired by a raft of exiles who arrived in New York City not long after I did. They were clearly happy to be here, but all they could talk about was how great Chicago was, how affordable—until it started getting gentrified, and now it’s all shit, and so they had to move to New York. Talk about your age-old stories, like the hipster diaspora of people who leave one place because it got gentrified and turned to shit—how you used to be able to get a thousand whiskies for a cent, and all the bands were awesome, and people were nicer.
D: Did you have to do much research for this section?
JH: Yeah, because Chicago does have a very pervasive mythos, even if you are one of those people who accepts that it is a real place where real people live. It also does have a fairly effective mythos that has worked its way through the popular culture. Certainly I have seen The Untouchables.
D: Does that mythos come from your assertion that Americans need to believe in Chicago as an idea?
JH: My whole book is about how stories become so much more powerful than facts, which is unfortunately something we see in the political scene today. But I think it’s a universal condition. I think most fiction was designed originally to provoke social cohesion and instruct in history. That’s what urban legends are—and what is Chicago, if not a very comforting urban legend? A fantasy world, if you will, of gangsters and Italian beef sandwiches and two—not just one—but two baseball teams competing with each other all the time, and streets paved with gold where lobsters walk, or whatever. It’s like an El Dorado of North America.
D: Were there any fables that you decided not to use?
JH: In the original piece, if you look back to the end, [where it says] “Time and again the Chicago-is-real theory simply does not stand up to scrutiny. There are no man-eating vines in the wall of Wrigley Field. No Al Capone. No John Wayne Gacy. These are stories invented to frighten children.” The original text was, “There are no man-eating vines in the wall of Wrigley Field. No Al Capone. No John Wayne Gacy. No Neal Pollack. These are merely stories invented to frighten children.”
D: Your first fable describes how Chicago was discovered. It either appeared to soldiers at Fort Dearborn, or Jean-Baptiste Pointe du Sable saw it rise out of Lake Michigan.
JH: Right. The Sears Tower rose from the lake right there in one of the stories.
D: So, which would you find to be the more likely scenario?
JH: When you’re dealing with pure American folklore, I think they’re equally unlikely. I treat all the stories and fables with equanimity because they’re all ridiculous fairy tales. Do you believe in Atlantis, a sunken, science-based society?
D: Um, yes.
JH: You do? That’s good, because I believe that there’s actually a subterranean tunnel, a waterway connecting Chicago to Atlantis.
D: So Chicago’s actually just an Atlantis of the United States?
JH: It’s the Atlantis of the Midwest.
D: Are there are other Atlantises on the coasts?
JH: I think it’s a Midwestern invention, the “Second City” phenomenon. The coasts have New York City and Los Angeles and San Francisco, and they don’t need a Chicago the way the Midwest does. You see what I’m saying? This is all designed to get me hated in Chicago. [Laughs.]