This Saturday, a spark from the past. Cameron Walker’s ‘Ripening‘ graced our September issue with its magical presence; here, she talks about mothermagic, people changing into food, and the words that make things hurt.
1. There are certain words in this story that make it especially devastating. For example, “When she thinks I’m asleep, she cradles me in her arms and whispers that even if I become beautiful, she’ll never let anyone hurt me.” Tell me about this even. Are beautiful people meant to be hurt?
First, I have the very odd feeling that I might get these questions wrong, even though I should probably know the answers, right? I think because they are very good questions. And because I haven’t had to take a test in a long time.
I think I first was thinking about the “if” of that sentence, that the mother isn’t sure this daughter will ever become beautiful in the same way that her sister was. And she’s relieved. And she’s feeling guilty that she did let something happen to her beautiful daughter. (And the narrator sort of accepts this about herself. I’ve been reading a lot about siblings recently, and how parents put them in particular roles- and even if she does become beautiful, I don’t think either she or her mother will think of her this way.)
But the “even,” that’s what you asked about. I’m not sure, but I imagine that at first, the mother felt threatened by her beautiful daughter, and the threat made her hesitate to protect her. She won’t hesitate again, not with this child.
2. It can take almost two years to grow an edible pineapple. What are the key growth years for humans? When do we “push out roots”?
Oh, I hope we never stop pushing out roots, don’t you?
3. ‘Ripening’ is rife with hidden things, with textures beneath other surfaces. At what layer did this story begin?
I’m trying to think, because the earliest version of this story is close to a decade old! I’d been on a trip to Hawaii with my family around the time I started writing this, and there’s lots of magic there, and I’d also been thinking about how pineapples are kind of a portable token of this magic. I mean, you can get them in little cases in the airport to carry on the plane with you. And then you can cut the top off and grow a new one. Amazing! (I’ve tried it several times, and it hasn’t worked for me- yet.) And I’d been reading a lot of Aimee Bender, and I wanted to write a story about people changing into the things they ate. (In an early draft, the sister changed into EVERYTHING she ate.)
The other part that was there since close to the beginning was the bringing the cherries across the border. At the time, my boyfriend and I lived somewhere where we’d often have to cross back and forth through state agricultural controls, and I remember coming back from a trip and having to eat a few pieces of fruit as we waited in line to cross. And I remember feeling relieved that we hadn’t bought something as large as a whole flat of cherries, because we would have felt obligated to eat everything.
4. Describe a peculiar instance of mothermagic.
Honestly, for mothers (and fathers) to get from dawn to bedtime, day after day, with infinite love for their children—that seems like the most peculiar, magical thing of all.(Thanks, Mom!) Even stranger, I really feel like I’m on the receiving end of the magic, now that I have kids of my own.
5. Can you explain the static that keeps certain people from touching each other?
I can’t explain it. But I do like swiping a balloon against the carpet and then using it to make my hair stand on end.
6. Which side of the border is the safe one???
Some days it’s neither, some days it’s both. And some days, the borders disappear.