Check In: Curtis Sittenfeld

talk about her latest novel, Rodham. Right after the break. I'm speaking with Curtis Sittenfeld about her novel Rodham, which deals with many of the themes that we explore on Heavyweight, things like returning to the past to change it and the question of what our lives might have been like if we'd made one decision Differently, Rodham is a novel about what Hillary Clinton's life and political career might have looked like if she had never married Bill Clinton.

Does she deserve a public voice? And it's kind of like that is ludicrous if that's like the starting question. I mean, like you don't have to read a book she writes or listen to a speech she gives, but like she's entitled to write them and she's entitled to speak. I don't have strong feelings about any of this.

of the book, Hillary and Bill never get married. Bill leaves politics to become this rich tech dot com mogul in San Francisco, and Hillary goes on to have this impressive political career. Yes, And the passage I'm going to ask you to read takes place in two thousand and five, as Hillary is gearing up to run for president in two thousand and eight, and she runs into Bill by chance at an event and they reconnect, and a couple of weeks later, Bill invites her over for dinner at

his penthouse. They're both single and Hillary hasn't had sex in a long time, and she's excited because she thinks Bill has invited her over to sleep with him. Yeah, but things don't end up going the way that she expects. So you're going to read this passage, and just a small heads up for those of you listening with kids, there are some bad words, some famously bad words, that we are not going to bleep, So without further ado, we'll pick it up just when Hillary arrives.

Bay Bridge, and Oakland. You made it. Bill approached from the kitchen wearing a royal blue apron over a dress shirt and jeans. He really was incredibly handsome, tall and slim and white haired, with that familiar smile. I set my purse next to a red porcelain lamp, and he leaned in to hug me and kissed the top of my head. Upbeat classical music played in the background, no doubt on a state of the art sound system, and the sweet smell of something baking filled the air. I said,

quite a view you've got, he grinned. Not bad for a boy from Hope ark Saha, I grinned back at him. Does that country boyshtick still work for you? Better than ever? But not with everyone? Apparently you look great by the way, you look great too, I said, California must agree with you. He opened a bottle of his own wine, a red, saying it's one of my favorites, very velvety but structured. When we made eye contact, he added to saying, that make me sound sophisticated or like an asshole? Why choose?

I said, and he laughed, I'm teasing. I said, you don't sound like an asshole, and I'd love a glass of something velvety and structured. After he'd poured, we clinked our glasses together to the past and the present, he said, and I said, here here. I sat on a barstool at the Granite Island while he stood facing me, with the bay behind him, dicing an onion on a cutting board. Using the knife, he swept the diced onion into the

pan and it sizzled a little. When did you learn to cook, I asked, After my second divorce, I decided not to be one of those bachelors with nothing but a six pack and a jar of mustard in the fridge. Turns out cooking is kind of fun. I'll bet I haven't touched a stove in a decade. I said, would you like for tonight to be the night? He said yes, I thought, but not with the stove. I said, you look like you've got things under control. What are you

making anyway? You ever had a ratitudey tart full disclosure. The crust that's in the oven as we speak was made earlier today by my housekeeper, Elena. I still want you to be impressed by my slicing and dicing, though I'm very impressed, I said. The smell of the baking crust competed pleasantly with the savory scent of the simmering vegetables. I was hungry, but I didn't want to be full

if we had sex. I took another sip of wine and said, do you remember when you told me about going home with Kirby Haiti for Thanksgiving your first year at Yale. You were very impressed that his parents' penthouse had its own elevator. And look at you now. It's funny, he said, because I don't think I ever ride up here without recalling that. He looked at me intently. What you and I had, he said, I never found that with anyone else. I mourned it for so many years.

I did too, I said, And it seems like it should be weird as hell to be standing across from you right now, he said, but it feels totally natural. I agree, I said. The intensity of his expression made it difficult to maintain eye contact, and with feigned casualness, I said, tell me about a day in the life of Bill Clinton. I've got a yoga instructor who comes here three mornings a week at seven. Is this too much detail? I shook my head. So I arrived in

the office at nine thirty or ten. I've got a driver. His smile was sheepish. I'll confess I feel self conscious around you with regard to some of this, But a lot of our dreams came true, didn't they we've both risen to the highest level of our fields or your damn near it. My God, if you do become president, Hillary, it'll be the greatest fucking thing. You'll be so good at it. And just think of making history like that. I can't pretend I won't be envious. Honestly, I try

not to think too much in those terms. I said, it makes me feel as if everything that comes out of my mouth should be written in calligraphy with a quill pen, which is immobilizing. I'm not, you know, George Washington, not even Georgia Washington. Bell grind is that George's sister, I asked, or him when he lets his wig down, he replied, we were both smiling. I watched as Bill shook some oregano into his palm and dropped it into

the mixture. Hey, I hear that Tara and Pete Forgod, held a fundraiser for you at their house last night. News travels fast. I said, the Foregods are terrific. He said. I was invited, but I had a conflict, and I thought, Hell, I get you all to myself for dinner tonight. There is a happiness I felt in this moment, A pure, warm, unambivalent animal happiness. I just really really enjoyed being in Bill Clinton's company and then sitting there on his barstool

listening to his classical music. I thought, what if I didn't run for president, What if I didn't even run for Senate again after this term. Let some other woman make history while having her clothes and voice and intellect and voting record picked apart. Let me have great sex and stimulating conversations. Let me travel to foreign countries, not to meet with dignitaries and eat chicken in ballrooms, but to swim in fancy pools at expensive hotels and read

novels while lying on enormous mattresses. Let me be a well paid lawyer or consultant or lobbyist. Let me be Bill Clinton's girlfriend again. Let me finally be Bill Clinton's wife. Allowed I said, that's true. You do get me all to yourself tonight. This is when he said, I have a story that I think you'll appreciate. He reached for the wine bottle and refilled my glass. You may have heard that I've started a foundation. We're still getting our sea legs, but we're focusing on all the big issues,

climate change, poverty biomedical research. Eighteen months ago, I hired a woman named Kira Duncan to run the foundation. She has a stellar record, went to Stanford for undergrad and business school. After b school, she worked for a gay rights advocacy group. So I assume she's a lesbian, even though she's gorgeous, long red hair, milky white skin, very slender. Really, I thought, long red hair, milky white skin, very slender. Now, Riley, I said, I've heard that it's possible for a woman

to be gorgeous and gay at the same time. He laughed. Just wait now. I'm not usually in the fount Foundation office, but Kira and I talk five six times a week. She's very on the ball, always prepared, a tireless worker in a lot of ways. She reminds me of you, and she's pretty buttoned up about her personal life, but bits and pieces emerge. She does indeed have a female partner, a gown named Louise we. Kira and I go to Haiti together to meet with Dan Jacobs, who runs Global

Health Mission. Do you know Dan, Yes, I said, Ghim does wonderful work. When Kira and I are in Haiti, he went on, she tells me, she and Louise want to have a baby. They're going back and forth about who should carry it and who the donor will be. If that's not the quintessential modern problem, huh, well, there have always been divisions of childcare, I said. Although I was speaking in what I hoped was a normal tone,

my wariness was increasing. I wanted to go back just a minute or two to when he'd said, I get you all to myself. Now I've met Louise by this point, he continued, and she's smart, a tough customer, very butch. A few weeks pass and Kira and Louise invite me over for brunch and say they have something to ask me. They've decided Kia will carry the baby and they want me to be the sperm donor. Remind me how old your kids are now, I said, Alexis is twenty six

and Ricky is twenty nine. That was a consideration. Absolutely, How would this look to them? Ricky is very relaxed, very accepting, but Alexis can be judgmental. I say to Kia and Louise, let me take a week to think about it. Why did I so dislike the turn our conversation had taken. Was it jealousy, the reminder of my age, or the reminder of Bill's narcissism, as if his sperm, his fifty nine year old sperm, was uniquely worthy. The day after brunch, Kira calls me up sobbing, he continued,

She's crying so hard. I can scarcely understand what she's saying, but I make out that Louise is accused her of wanting me to be the donor as a way of creating intimacy with me. Kia says, I felt so angry when Louise said this. I went for a run, just feeling furious, and that's when I realized she's right. I'm in love with you. Kia offers to resign effective immediately, which I don't allow. Wow, I said, where do things stand now? At least the mystery of why I disliked

hearing all this had been solved. We're taking things slow, just enjoying being together, not rushing into any decisions. Wait a second, I said, you're in a relationship with Kira. She's not big on labels, Bill said, and here she is the sexually fluid individual. She hasn't dated a man since she was a teenager. But the energy between us, the connection, it's truly incredible. Kia's extraordinary in the way

she sees the world, her creativity and compassion. Hopefully she'll pop in later tonight and I can introduce the two of you. She'll pop in tonight, I asked. He looked at his watch. She has a dinner meeting, so probably not before nine, and she is or isn't pregnant. For now, We've hit pause on that, he said. We've got a trip together to Namibia in November, and we'll discuss it after we get back. One of the most important lessons I've learned in life is this, do not preemptively take

no for an answer. Do not decide your request has been rejected before it officially has. As with so many other lessons that involve assertion, this one applies far more to women than men. Thus I took a sip of wine and said, surely you and Kira aren't monogamous. He squinted. Your tart smells delicious, I said, But just to give ourselves time, let's go to bed now and eat afterwards. He blinked, then smiled a little questioningly. For old time's sake,

I said, for fun with no strings attached. I'm certainly flattered, he said, And surprised, are you? I asked? Hillary? You know you've always always held a special place in my heart, he said, Having you in my home now it's a true joy. I've thought about you so many times over the years. Then he said, for anything physical to happen between us, that's just not where I am. So now

my request had been officially rejected. There were other things I thought in this moment and later, but the main one was what a giant, fucking waste of time and energy it had been to worry over the acquisition of condoms and lubricant. This was the man for whom, not five minutes earlier, I'd pondered, chuck my presidential aspirations, my entire career, setting aside, what was wrong with him? What was wrong with me? I heard myself ask? What is it about that story of you and Kira that made

you think I'd particularly appreciate it? His tone was wary but cheerful. He couldn't discern if we were moving away from or deeper into a fraud topic, as he said, the feminist angle, for one thing, sisters are doing it for themselves, and her directness, her lack of gamesmanship. Do I mean gameswomanship? He smiled. I remember how frustrated you felt by the narrow expectations for women when we were in law school. And what did you want from tonight?

I asked? Why am I here? He bit his lower lip, and I could see that my opinion mattered to him, that he sincerely wanted my approval, or at least feared my opprobrium. But hadn't this been Bill's genius as a politician, That he was this way with everyone and it was always sincere, he said, When two old friends have the chance to catch up, that's something I value more and more as the years passed, and I thought we were having a nice time old friends. It was hard to

know which word was more insulting. Then he added, I also wanted to float the idea of you joining my foundation's board. There can be a shortage of female leadership, the female perspective in these parts. But god knows, I didn't mean to be confusing, I said, just out of curiosity, how old is the oldest woman you've slept with? I don't see what that has to do with anything. Forty five, I said, forty Evangeline was forty four when we separated

last year. He bowed his head. If I gave you the impression this dinner was romantic, I'm sorry in the last few days, did it cross your mind we'd have sex tonight? Given the inherently loaded nature of the question, I asked, as neutrally as possible. I just I wasn't thinking in those terms. He said, what with being in a brand new relationship. The oven timer beeped then, and we didn't speak as he slid on an oven, mit opened the glass door and removed the crust. He set

the crust on a stove burner. We still didn't speak as he began spooning the ratitude into the crust, and finally, when he was finished, he said, that doesn't look half bad, does it. But I didn't want to eat his food. I didn't want to join his board, I didn't want to be in his penthouse, and I didn't want to be in his presence. It wouldn't I thought, be difficult to remain on good terms with him. Salvaging this moment would require little effort. Perhaps in the future he'd even

feel guilt. He wouldn't want a name and be more generous and donating to my campaign, or more helpful in soliciting others. But backpedaling restoring the goodwill between us would be difficult for me putting up with Bill Clinton's bullshit. Hadn't I earned the right never to do it again? Sometimes speaking your mind is expensive, which doesn't mean it's

not worth it. There's nothing you did wrong tonight that's provable in a court of law, I said, which is your specialty, Bill, But I do think you led me on. It's funny because all those years ago when you proposed I remember thinking, on the one hand, he'll never be faithful, but on the other hand, he'll never not be attracted to me. He just loves women and sex. But now I think I was wrong. If we'd gotten married, you eventually would have traded me in for a new model.

His face flushed as he said, what our marriage would have looked like is immaterial, and you're the one who made it immaterial. I was prepared to do my best as your husband was. My best is my best perfect?

white enough? He bit his lip. He actually had two bitten lip modes, one pensive and one angry, and this was the angry version, and said, you've never understood that you can't litigate the human heart. Spare me. I slid forward on the barstool. I know we didn't get through a tip day for you, but I hope that on a regular basis seeing a therapist as part of your schedule, because, without question, you're a narcissist. And I mean that in the clinical sense. What diagnosis would you give to a

woman who tries unsuccessfully to seduce a narcissist? If he wasn't shouting by this point, he was close fuck you, I said, I believe I made it clear I'd rather not. He said, you know, I said, if you're trying to humiliate me, I am ashamed of myself, but not for thinking you'd find me attractive. I'm ashamed because you've given me so much evidence for so many years about what a piece of shit you are, and once again I

ignored it. I stood goodbye, Bill. I didn't wait for him to respond before I turned and strode toward the elevator. You think that's how it works, he yelled. I welcome you into my home, and when things don't go exact exactly how you imagined, you get to impugne my character. I glanced over my shoulder. I don't impune your character, I said, you do that all by yourself. If we'd been on the ground floor, my dramatic exit could have

been more efficient as it was. After reaching the elevator, grabbing my purse off the table, and pressing the call button, I didn't need to wait longer than a few seconds, but any delay as I stood there with my back to him and those enormous windows imbued the situation with a certain absurdity Behind me, I heard him say, you've always gotten off on making me feel bad about myself, holding me to your impossible standards, then scolding me when I don't meet them. You know what you are, You're

a self righteous cunt. I looked over my shoulder and said, and you're a spoiled, selfish child. This is when he threw the serving spoon. Was he throwing it at me? I'd never known him to be violent, though I'd also never seen him this enraged. He hit the red porcelain lamp on the table, knocking it to the floor and shattering it. I was shocked, and when I looked at him, it seemed he was too. The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside, then turned around. I held the doors

open as I spoke. Did you say your housekeeper's name is Elena. You're so good at getting other people to clean up your messes.

the entirety of a romantic relationship. Like there's the hopefulness at the beginning, and the flirtation and the projection about the future, and then it gives way to the dashed hopes and the hurt, and then this kind of divorce.

Bill of having raped her. So in the passage that you just read it Bill's penthouse, when you have Hillary accused Bill of doing nothing wrong that could be proven in a court of law, and in the next breath she goes on to say that he's a man who loves women and sex. How is the reader meant to hear that?

has changed during that time. In the book, one of the reasons Hillary doesn't stay with him is that she kind of gets this glimpse of his darker interactions with women and doesn't really want to be responsible for them.

And I think in real life, I mean, Hillary in some ways could not draw that much attention to Trump's offenses against women in the twenty sixteen campaign because Trump would always invoke Bill's history, so it sort of seemed like Hillary was held in some ways more accountable for

Bill's behavior than Bill was. But I think one of the things that draws me to reading and writing fiction, it's that it captures the contradictory nature of people, and like so much of the public discourse, I think, you know,

like we either like want to worship someone. You can sort of see this on Twitter, like it's like this is the week that we're all going to like worship Jeff Goldbloom or like designed he's the best person ever, and then like this is when we're going to turn against this person, and that it's either or instead of that,

like people are contradictory and we even recognize that. Like, I think probably almost all of us have someone in our life where we feel like, if that person weren't my close friend, I really wouldn't like them, or I really wouldn't be comfortable with their behavior. And maybe I am uncomfortable with their behavior and I like them, and a part of me feels like, maybe that's what life is like for Hillary.