Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
The WELL's Inkwell forum welcomes author Charlie Haas for a​
week-long conversation focusing on his latest novel, THE CURRENT​
FANTASY, published by Beck and Branch in 2024. Charlie grew up in​
New York and California and now lives in Oakland. His magazine work​
includes reported stories, humor, and essays for The Threepenny​
Review, The New Yorker, New West, Mother Jones, Wet: The Magazine of​
Gourmet Bathing, and many others.  As a student at U.C. Santa Cruz,​
he began a screenwriting partnership with Tim Hunter, leading to the​
movies Over the Edge (directed by Jonathan Kaplan) and Tex (directed​
by Tim Hunter). Haas's later movie credits include Gremlins 2 and​
Matinee, both directed by Joe Dante.  Haas's other novel is THE​
ENTHUSIAST (HarperCollins, 2009), which we discussed in a previous​
Inkwell conversation:​
<https://people.well.com/conf/inkwell.vue/topics/371/Charlie-Haas-The-Enthusias
t-page01.html>
  

    
Charlie, welcome back to Inkwell! Can you tell us what inspired you​
to write THE CURRENT FANTASY?
  

    
It's great to be back -- thanks for having me!

I got the idea for this book when I stumbled onto some photos of​
German "nature men" (which included women) taken at the turn of the​
20th Century. These people looked strikingly like hippies in the​
mid-1960s, but they'd shown up 50 years early. Why hadn't I been​
informed of this?

I read up on the topic, in Gordon Kennedy's book "Children of the​
Sun" and Martin Burgess Green's several excellent histories,​
especially "Mountain of Truth." 

It turned out that there was a lively dropout culture in Germany​
back then, and that some of its adherents came to California in the​
1910s. These included Bill Pester, whose photo is the frontispiece​
of "The Current Fantasy." (Pester was the subject of the song​
"Nature Boy," written by eden ahbez, who came to the scene a bit​
later.)

The California naturmenschen settled into the southern California​
canyons, started health food restaurants like the Eutropheon in LA,​
contributed to the spread of German Expressionist art and poetry,​
and in general made a serious contribution to the bohemian style​
that emerged in America. 

What interested me in all this enough to write a novel? I think it's​
the <persistence> over the decades of that desire to try a different​
way of living and maybe have a positive influence on society at​
large... less selfishness, more humor, less fear, more honesty...​
these movements that often "win by losing." I can find echoes of the​
naturmenschen and Expressionists in the beats, the folk music​
revivals, the hippies, Burning Man... a striking family resemblance​
at times. 

I was also interested in patterns in the lives of individual artists​
-- the importance of a group scene in one's early development, and​
the equal importance later on of finding one's own spot and getting​
down to painting or writing or whatever... as we see in the later​
part of the book. 

I'll stop there, but if people are curious about this background​
stuff I'll be happy to go into more detail.
  

    
I think it's interesting - feel free to expand on the background.​
One question I have is whether you found evidence that the hippies​
that came later had any connection to or inspiration from the​
naturmenschen, or whether these were independent movements? And if​
they were independent, why were they similar?

I'm also registering the title of the book as a reference to the​
Merry Pranksters who came later, correct?
  

    
About the title, yes. "The current fantasy" is a phrase Tom Wolfe​
uses several times in "The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test," his book​
about Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters. In addition to the title,​
the phrase shows up in my book when Anna asks Rose about the idea of​
going to California, and in a quotation from Wolfe that serves as​
the epigram for the afterword.  

About links between the hippies and the naturmenschen, I'd like to​
look at that in two ways: style and individuals. Among other​
instances, I think you can easily draw a line from the style of​
German Expressionist theater and cinema to things like Bread and​
Puppet Theater and Living Theater in the 60s to Burning Man in the​
present. 

A few key individuals also link these periods together. I think of​
eden ahbez, a proto-hippie who was born in the U.S. and joined Bill​
Pester and other German naturmenschen in the southern California​
canyons. eden wrote the song "Nature Boy" about Pester and played​
piano at the Eutropheon health food restaurant in LA -- this is all​
before the 50s. 

In the 60s, eden hung out with Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys and​
recorded albums of his own song-poems at LA studios. I like to​
imagine eden coming into town in the period, taking a walk on Sunset​
Strip and thinking, "It's happened! Thousands of guys who look like​
me!"

Similarly, there's Gypsy Boots, whose parents were German​
naturmenschen. Gypsy was a longhaired health food advocate in LA in​
the 50s -- he'd come swinging onto the set of "The Tonight Show" on​
a vine and get Steve Allen to drink carrot juice when it was still​
exotic. His memoir, published under the titles "Bare Feet and Good​
Things to Eat" and "The Gypsy in Me," is fun to look at. 

Of course, once "The Current Fantasy" became a story of fictional​
characters with hopes and aggravations of their own, this stuff​
about movements and their aesthetics became background, but (for one​
example) the Expressionist style of Rose's painting seems to me to​
be inextricable from her character. 
  

    
What was your process for generating a plot and a cast of characters​
based on historic characters and events? When you're writing fiction​
based on actual people and events, how much is that history​
inspiration, and to what extent is it a constraint?
  

    
Great question, thanks. 

Coming up with plot and characters was a <very> distinct operation​
from the historical research. With the research, I had a pleasant​
second-college kind of experience, reading histories, combing​
through art books and newspaper microfiches at the Cal libraries,​
etc. I could have geeked out on that stuff forever.

But for story and characters, the "research material" is one's own​
experiences, observations, and emotions. Basically, you're saying,​
"Let me take the under-examined contents of my brain, spread it out​
on the coffee table, and turn it into a narrative. How hard could it​
be?"

Pretty hard. I knew early on that I wanted a family to act as​
audience surrogates, experiencing that bohemian culture from outside​
and then inside, but their four specific identities came slowly.

And to your question about history being a constraint -- I started​
out with an idea of Richard that was close to Otto Gross, the​
real-life ringleader at Ascona. Gross was a fascinating, brilliant​
renegade, but ultimately too amoral and destructive a person to act​
the way I wanted Richard to. So in that case it was a matter of​
forcibly peeling away from the real-life stuff in order to get what​
the story needed.

Rose, the Lanz family, and the others are wholly fictional, so I had​
the advantage of writing them from the ground up. 

And then it was the usual trial-and-error seance in pursuit of a​
workable story. Along the way (often on waking up in the morning, or​
on a walk), critical pieces would tumble into place. Like (avoiding​
a spoiler here) "Oh -- X and Y sleep together! Of course. That's the​
justice the story needs here."
  

    
You mention trial-and-error - does the evolution of characters​
require a lot of revising? For example, you're halfway through the​
book and realize that a particular character has taken actions or​
positions earlier in the book that are inconsistent with the evolved​
vision?
  

    
Oh gosh -- so much revision, and so many pages, scenes, and​
characters that got discarded. 

A small example is Frederick. I wrote him as a jerk, but there was a​
point where I realized it wasn't that simple, that he's a jerk who's​
a talented artist. That changes Gerhard's understanding of him,​
which is good for Gerhard's character too. I feel like a lot of what​
happens in this story is people (especially the four Lanzes) having​
their expectations challenged and changing their minds, on the way​
to what they're like at the end. 

And for all the characters, there's a gradual process, draft by​
draft, of getting closer to their true reactions to things. A little​
closer to their hearts each time. 

Naturally I wish I worked this process worked faster, but it works​
at the speed it works at. 
  

    
This was a really fun book. I was fascinated by the idea that there​
were hippies 50 years before there were hippies. 

Given our time, I also couldn't but notice how the fate of the​
colony is a reflection of the anti-German hysteria that followed the​
declaration of war against Germany in 1917. To what degree were you​
reflecting the time, vs simply looking at the various anti-Muslim​
and anti-hispanic fears of today?
  

    
This is great. I suppose you're aware of Oakland's own German heritage like
the Altenheim residential complex and the Naturfreunde park in the hills.
German-speaking people helped make this town.
  

    
Andrew, about German roots in Oakland -- absolutely. I pass the​
Altenheim pretty often and always stop to take it in.

Ari, I was always up for parallels between that time and ours, and I​
think it's natural for the anti-German sentiment to echo ICE and​
Islamophobia. That said, the details in the novel are all drawn from​
history. A book called "Bonds of Loyalty: German-Americans and World​
War I" by Frederick Luebke was especially helpful. So stuff like the​
Boy Scouts having gatherings where they broke Beethoven records, or​
the enemy registration Benji signs, or the restrictions on German​
assemblies and movements -- all real. 
  

    
Thanks, Charlie. I do remember being astounded when I read about it​
how much virulent anti-German sentiment there was. I guess up until​
that point, I assumed that white Europeans mostly got a pass after​
the initial anti-Irish or anti-Italian fervor had passed. But,​
especially in the case of German Americans as the US entered WWI,​
that was untrue - the German language press pretty much disappeared,​
for instance, and many people changed their names.
  

    
Another question - the kids in the main family, for the most part,​
did well. I think that _is_ the American immigrant story for the​
most part - parents get by and the kids succeed. But, I'm also aware​
that the story is not as true as the stories imply. Within the​
Jewish community, for instance, we always tell our story as though​
all the kids became doctors or lawyers, but, in fact, many didn't.

Was this something you thought much about, or were you more​
attracted to the idea of using the kids stories to highlight big​
changes in the country? (Apologies if I am inserting spoilers)
  

    
Ari, thanks for another good question. I have to say, I wasn't​
really looking to use Lilli and Benji's progress as representative​
of cultural change or anything like that. I wanted their paths to​
reflect their own identities, along with how they resolved being​
Anna and Gerhard's kids and their Sunland experience. 

So here we get into the stuff fiction writers are always saying​
about the characters having minds of their own and doing things that​
surprise the writer. That sounds hokey but I think it's true, if you​
interpret it to mean that the writer's decisions frequently find​
their way up from the unconscious. 

It's always seemed funny to me that Gerhard sees Lilli's career​
choice as an explicit rebuke to his beliefs, while Lilli​
unconsciously echoes Richard in her sales pitch at Rosewood Glen.​
Very little about the characters is as clear-cut as they themselves​
think it is. It seems lifelike to me when people surprise themselves​
(see also Rose's decision about her life after Sunland).    
  

    
I don't want to interrupt this excellent line of questioning, so I;ll just
say I LOVED this book and I'm glad you're here, Charlie!

I also love the fact that the title invokes the '60s iteration of this
movement and you did nothing to belabor it.
  

    
Unfortunately, I haven't read the book, although the comments here​
are leading me to buy it.

You might have answered this in the book, but I'm wondering about​
the term "nature men."  My first thought was are they naturists, as​
in nudists?  And if not, why were they called "nature men"?
  

    
Hi Charlie. I loved the book because it showed me how it would have​
been to have lived a life completely different from anything I've​
experienced, and that's what I look for in my reading. This is, in a​
way, what all fiction is; yours was particularly successful in never​
telling or preaching, but in immersing me in these characters'​
particular interesting lives. 

I have a different question: I'm curious about the state of​
publishing in this upside-down-world time. I write a bit, and once​
tried to get one of my books published by one of the big houses -​
and failed, crushingly, so I self-published. You're with a press​
called Beck & Branch, and I wonder how that's going. 
  

    
For a little more about Charlie and the photo that inspired him:

<https://splashpad.org/charlie-haas-a-novelist-in-the-neighborhood/>
  

    
David, thanks so much, and congratulations on "Aging Gratefully"! My​
copy arrived today. Beautiful work!

Linda, thanks for the "nature men" question. The people in that​
movement sometimes went clothing-optional while dancing or farming​
or whatever, but that wasn't the main meaning. It was a "back to​
nature" movement at a time of massive urbanization and​
industrialization. In particular, the people in that circle were in​
retreat from the internet of their time: telephones, telegraph,​
cinema. In the book, the Sunlanders won't use electric or steam​
machinery on their farm, though the water-driven sawmill is​
considered okay.

Renshin, thanks so much for the kind words and the publishing​
question. 

Without question, publishing keeps getting harder, and I think that​
fact has to be read alongside the recent studies showing that​
student reading scores are going down along with the percentage of​
Americans who read books for fun. 

I had a novel ("The Enthusiast") published by HarperCollins, which​
was a good experience, though it certainly wasn't a source of fame​
and riches. Beck and Branch, which published "The Current Fantasy,"​
is a writers' co-op whose members are invited in and have published​
at least one book with a commercial publisher. 

They're a great, supportive group of people. Co-founder Raul Ramos y​
Sanchez designed the cover of my book (using Elmer Wachtel's​
painting from the story's period), which I love and I think has been​
a great ambassador for the book. Rebecca Coffey, the other​
co-founder and guiding spirit, is the author of the novel​
"Hysterical," which I'm constantly urging on people -- a great book.​
The "lost memoirs" of Anna Freud.

I kind of figured early on that "The Current Fantasy" would be​
published someplace small if at all, and I surveyed the scene by​
ordering a lot of books from presses in Poets and Writers' list of​
small outfits. Boy, there's some good work being published by small​
presses! Coffee House Press, Two Dollar Radio (motto: "We make more​
noise than a two dollar radio"), Outpost 19, Dzanc, and the many​
university presses... Literature may be becoming a niche, but it's​
an amazingly fertile and resilient one. 

My feeling, after my experience with these two books, is that​
there's not going to be significant money, so one is in it for the​
writing process and the bright moments (to borrow a phrase from​
Rahsaan Roland Kirk) that come with bringing it out, whether one​
publishes it oneself or with a big house or someplace in between.

About the writing process, Thomas Mann supposedly said that a writer​
is someone for whom writing is harder than it is for other people.​
I'd add that a writer is someone who's stuck with writing as the way​
to process her or his experiences, emotions, and opinions. And it's​
a transformative process.

About the bright moments, I've had just as many with the small co-op​
press as with the big place. Hearing from people for whom the book​
resonated. Giving a reading at Bird and Beckett in SF before the​
jazz guys went on. Leading workshops at a writers' conference. This​
Q & A.
  

    
That is fascinating, thank you for it. I'm so glad you found an​
outlet.
  

    
Charlie, welcome (back) to the Well. My interest in your book (and​
its fabulous title, evoking so much) has to do with the universality​
of "striking out" making what one wants of life and community. And,​
also, the German-ness of it. I moved in 2018 and currently live in​
Munich, having travelled here every year for 20 years beforehand.​
One of the striking stories I seemed to hear, incredibly often, were​
the number of people my age, a child of the sixties, and the numbers​
who followed one guru after another, particularly Bhagwan Shree​
Rajneesh with several having gone to Oregon for some time. Of these​
friends and acquaintances was a descendant of one of the families​
that went to Haifa, Israel, to found a community there, the German​
Colony in an area of Haifa in 1868 during Ottoman rule as a​
Christian German Templer Colony in Palestine. 

Anyway. Goodness. THE CURRENT FANTASY. smile. I really just wonder​
if one hears as many stories like this particular one (and common​
one, seemingly) for the Germans as with the Italians or French, for​
example. And, if not, why the Germans?
  

    
What Tom asked! And an obvious follow-on: how common were these​
communes in Germany and elsewhere in Europe? Would a group electing​
to migrate to the States have been common among them, or unusual?
  

    
I also really appreciate the portrait of southern California in the early
20th century. I was born in LA and we traveled around the region a lot in the
'50s and early '60s. I enjoyed your descriptions of these places in those
times.
  

    
One solution to making money on books: thanks to the pandemic, I started an
online store. The royalties pile up a few pennies at a time, but the retail
margin is good.
  

    
Tom, thank you for the remarkable facts about the Haifa colony and​
serial guru followers. Holy cow. This is as fascinating as anything​
in Martin Burgess Green's books... which brings us to your question,​
"why the Germans?"

Green wrote a whole stack of histories of countercultural movements​
-- "Children of the Sun," "Mountain of Truth," "Prophets of a New​
Age," and biographies of Otto Gross (the renegade psychoanalyst at​
the center of the naturmenschen community) and the von Richtofen​
sisters. Some of his books trace the history of counterculture way​
back before the German naturmenschen. The cyclical and pan-European​
nature of that yearning is fascinating to read about.

Gordon Kennedy's book "Children of the Sun: A Pictorial Anthology,​
from Germany to California 1883-1949" is full of pertinent photos​
and facts. 

For my purposes, Green's "Mountain of Truth" was the sweet spot --​
the true story of a movement that foreshadowed the 60s and​
influenced American culture, particularly in California. The people​
in that book populated the arty districts of Munich and Berlin, and​
sometimes lived with Otto Gross and Gusto Graser at Lake Ascona in​
Switzerland. That's why Germany was a starting point for my story.​
But Green's other books show that Germany had no monopoly on the​
impulse to take to the woods and start fresh.

People who spent time at Ascona included Hermann Hesse (no surprise​
there), Franz Kafka, Isadora Duncan, D.H. Lawrence and his wife​
Frieda von Richtofen Lawrence, and a lot of German Expressionist​
artists, writers, dancers, and theater people. The movement's​
influence spread widely, and people like Bill Pester carried it to​
California. 

Ari, I don't know how common the communes were apart from Ascona. My​
reading did give me a sense of how rich the artistic scenes in​
Munich and Berlin were at that time. Frank Wedekind's theatricals,​
wild cafe life, people like Grosz and Kirchner painting up a storm​
-- it was as vital a bohemia as you can read about. (And Otto Gross​
really did psychoanalyze people at their cafe tables as​
entertainment, as Richard is said to have done in my book.)

About a group coming to the U.S. en masse, that's my fictional​
invention -- I wanted the Lanzes to have a sort of ready-made group​
to join up with. My impression is that in reality it was more a​
matter of people like Bill Pester or Gypsy Boots's parents finding​
their way to California on their own... and then American-born​
people like eden ahbez coming out and meeting these guys in the​
canyons. Gordon Kennedy's book has great photos of Pester, Boots and​
ahbez living out there in loincloths, eating fruit off the trees,​
lifting rocks for exercise... like Manfred and Rolf in my book. Talk​
about paleo!