Writing the Everyday, the Octogenarian Way
by Jen A. Becker
“You can no more skip a day in your journals than you can skip a day in your life.”
Photo via carlklaus.com
I skipped my “Writing the Everyday with James Joyce” class in order to attend a reading by the esteemed Carl Klaus, founder of Iowa’s Nonfiction Writing Program and Professor Emeritus at the University of Iowa. In addition to teaching at the UI from 1962 to 1997, he’s widely known for his work on and about essays. His books directly related to the craft of essay-writing include The Made-Up Self (2010), Essayists on the Essay (2012), and A Self Made of Words (2013). He’s most known for these books of scholarly craft, but he has also written several other collections of personal essays. Here, he read from his newest project, Coming of Age: An Octogenarian’s Chronicle as part of the College of Public Health’s reading series. For those who are unaware, as I was, an octogenarian is someone between the ages of 80-89.
Knowing about his work with the university, I expected, or at least hoped, that he might speak briefly about the Nonfiction Writing Program (NWP) and looked forward to hearing what he might say. What I did not expect was that I would be surrounded by Klaus’s former colleagues, groupies, and fellow octogenarians, with only a sparse few twenty-somethings sitting on the outskirts of the room. It was definitely worth skipping class to glean a bit of “essayinarian” wisdom directly from the master as he read from his most recent essay project.
I walked into the Callaghan Auditorium at the College of Public Health, out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs, with five minutes to spare before the scheduled start-time of 5:30p.m. I thought little of the salt-and-pepper-sea as I searched for a seat in close proximity to Klaus, who was already situated in a comfy chair located in the middle of the front of the room.
Making my way past four cordial, white-haired ladies to sit comfortably alone in the middle, I realized that the people surrounding me were of the 60’s-to-80’s age-range. I don’t claim to be a spring-chicken, but my hair is still mostly brown with grays capable of being disguised in carefully crafted blonde highlights. There were maybe four or five other people in the room my age or younger. Oh, right! Octogenarian Chronicles. Nod. Smile. Keep smiling. And I proceeded to my comfort zone pretending I blended among the crowd that surrounded me.
After a brief and eloquent introduction by Edith Parker, Dean of the College of Public Health, Klaus discussed his upcoming book project which began in 2013 – the year he turned 80 – describing it as an extended journal of being an octogenarian in the early 20th century. Notes from every six months since then make an installment (as he calls it) for his book. He explained that this collection of essays covers stories about himself and others, reflecting on various aspects of life in one’s 80’s. Jokingly, he referred to it as “tracking the arc of inevitable decline” through two heart attacks and stage four cancer.
Klaus identified people in their eighties as becoming one of the fastest growing demographics in the industrialized world, with the United States alone declaring nine million octogenarians. This number is estimated to reach fifteen million by the year 2025. Despite those predictions, there have been surprisingly few books or essays published about personal octo-experiences. Klaus’ extensive history in essay writing primed him to fill this niche for octogenic experiences.
“My oncologist regaled me with the good news that he didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t live to be 99, which made me wonder why he didn’t say 100.”
Anecdotes and sketches flowed effortlessly from his lips for nearly a full hour as he humorously regaled his audience about the everyday problems encountered by eighty-year-olds, the unending list of associated ailments, and how he’s overcome it all optimistically. Klaus enviously talked about his wife, age 78, who doesn’t need to take any daily medication to maintain good health and who still works as a real estate agent full-time, remarking, “Her memory dazzles me.”
He, on the other hand, lives with a long list of conditions: “Sluggish thyroid, enlarged prostate, chronic kidney disease, coronary artery disease, cataracts in both eyes, hearing aids in both ears, itching on both arms and legs, Raynaud’s syndrome in both hands, and can’t rise to the occasion without a dose of Viagra.” Klaus referred to his approaching 9th decade as a “strikingly new gift of time rather than a time of increasing decrepity.” Recalling a conversation with his oncologist nearly two years prior, he said, “My oncologist regaled me with the good news that he didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t live to be 99, which made me wonder why he didn’t say 100.” The auditorium reverberated with laughter.
In parting, Klaus granted a few wisened words for writers of any age: more than write every day, he said to write something purposeful, no matter your preferred genre. For him, essay writing is essential to life. “I decided I would write – for myself – a five-hundred-word essay every day, about whatever memory, whatever incident was most striking to me that day.” Klaus explained that this habit of crafting a daily essay helped him develop a habit of artfulness. “It forced me to be a very disciplined observer... and to be precise as a writer.”