Madeleine Watts’ sophomore work, Elegy, Southwest, immerses readers in the unfolding narrative of a young couple, Lewis and Eloise, as they embark on a two-week road trip across the Southwestern United States. Set against the backdrop of raging wildfires and an ailing Colorado River, the novel artfully reflects themes of personal grief and impending ecological disaster. As Lewis confronts the raw emotions of mourning his mother, Eloise finds herself grappling with the suspicion of pregnancy, intertwining their emotional journeys with the environmental decay surrounding them.
During an engaging interview, I delved into Watts' distinctive writing choices, particularly her decision to use second-person narration, a choice that runs counter to conventional narrative advice.
Marisa D. Wright: The epigraph of your novel invokes Roland Barthes' words: “You have gone (which I lament), you are here (since I am addressing you),” setting an intimate tone. What does this mean for your writing process?
Madeleine Watts: That quote resonated with me deeply, especially as I grappled with grief while writing. In my MFA program, the norm was to avoid second-person narration, yet that voice emerged for a reason. The ongoing internal dialogue when grieving involves addressing the lost person, making them present through words — a way to conjure them back into existence.
Genre and Contextual Climate
Watts describes her novel as a genre blend, embodying elements of love, road trip adventures, and a critique of climate change. Inspired by her experience of writing in the constraints of the pandemic, she notes how the themes were not just relevant but unavoidable.
MDW: Given the various themes, does “contemporary climate fiction” resonate with your vision for this book?
MW: Yes, it feels fitting. While drafting the novel, questions about hope and climate change were ever-present. The reality is that if one writes a realistic novel today without mentioning climate change, it doesn’t vanish from the story. It’s an inescapable part of our lives, permeating our thoughts and relationships.
A Writer's Life and Personal Reflection
In her first novel, The Inland Sea, Watts expressed a sense of being an observer, a conduit for experiences that might otherwise go unrepresented. This lingering sense permeates her writing process even today.
MDW: How does that feeling of being "undercover" manifest in your daily life as a writer?
MW: There’s a persistent observer in me. This might detach me from fully experiencing life in the same way others do. I feel a tinge of sadness about it occasionally. I often reflect on whether I romanticize that experience when, in reality, it can be isolating.
Exploring Reproductive Themes
By incorporating the complexities of pregnancy and abortion in both novels, Watts digs into themes of bodily autonomy and private grief, crucial elements of the contemporary experience.
MDW: Why is this aspect significant in your storytelling? How did your approach differ between the two novels?
MW: Writing about the body and its experiences captivates me. In my first book, the narrative explored emergency and control regarding reproductive events; the character struggled desperately and faced loss of agency. Elegy shifts to reflect my evolving perspective on these experiences, particularly set against the distressing backdrop of America’s changing reproductive rights landscape. Writing it felt urgent when my surroundings echoed those same fears. The communal sadness was palpable, revealing how profoundly private reproductive experiences can be.
Unconventional Structural Choices
Watts’ editorial choices amplify her intent, incorporating endnotes and chapter indexes. This provides a sense of thoroughness in her research, while also breaking the conventional expectations of a novel.
MDW: Your chapter structure is unique, featuring indexes and endnotes. What motivated these decisions?
MW: I felt it made sense to acknowledge the sources that shaped my thoughts. Like nonfiction, fiction too builds upon a foundation of research and community. The names and works mention those who inspired the narrative; it was important to honor that influence. The indexes also serve as poetic reflections, guiding readers while acknowledging the narrative's murkiness and its departure from linear storytelling.
Ambiguous Endings and the Nature of Grief
As readers progress, they’ll notice that the resolution isn’t straightforward. The weight of grief mirrors the characters’ emotional journeys, asserting that not all stories need a conclusive closure.
MDW: Let’s discuss the ending. It seems intentionally ambiguous. Why did you opt for that approach?
MW: Initially, I had no clear plot in mind. As I wrote, it became clear that addressing grief and loss without definitive closure felt essential. The natural ebb and flow of grief is cyclical, defying conventional beginnings and ends. Your life continues to unfold around that grief; it’s never truly resolved. Mimicking that complexity felt true to the experience.
Watts' work challenges readers to reconcile their own experiences with profound loss and environmental decay, ultimately offering a raw, layered look into the emotional landscape of our times.