I became involved with the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame because I believe that Chicago has an important literary legacy deserving of attention. After two induction ceremonies where we celebrated historical writers, it was time to look at the contribution of writers living and working in Chicago.
After some discussion, it was unanimous, and we moved forward to create a new award, the Fuller, to honor a lifetime contribution to Chicago literature. (You can read more about the significance and symbolism of the award here.)
There was no question in my mind that Gene Wolfe should be the person to receive the first Fuller Award.
His work is rich, innovative fiction worthy to stand beside many of the literary giants that have shaped not only Chicago’s literature, but modern literature as a whole.
There was briefly a question of "genre writing," but if we take a look at the literary landscape, the fantastic is an important part of it. Homer, the greatest epic poet of Ancient Greece wrote about Odysseus’ adventures among gods and men. Dante’s La Divina Commedia drew upon medieval Christian mythology in a journey through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. Shakespeare incorporated folklore and fairies into his plays. Edgar Allen Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Oscar Wilde all introduced elements of the supernatural in their works.
Considered to be some of literature’s greatest writers, many of their stories would likely be considered Fantasy and Science Fiction by today’s genre classification. Somewhere along the way, mainstream literature became aligned with realism, but if we look back on the literary spectrum, we see that much of it is saturated with the unknown, the mysterious—the fantastic.
Gene’s work is like that—fantastic and significant.
After talking with Gene and receiving his gracious acceptance, I corresponded with Neil Gaiman. A long-time champion of Gene’s writing, he was my touchstone. After Neil, I contacted others: writers, editors, family, friends; and they responded with overwhelming enthusiasm.
Again and again they confirmed what I believed, that people love Gene Wolfe. Upon meeting Gene, a respect for the writer and his words evolves into a genuine affection for the man.
March 17, 2012 brought us a day of unseasonably warm weather and sunshine. We headed toward Barrington Hills, stopping for a delicious lunch at the Happy Buddha; and as I looked around the table during our meal, I was once again reminded how blessed I am to have these dear friends in my life. Many of them had been up late the night before, helping me to fold, cut, paste, and package. Even friends who couldn't attend the event had pitched in to help in during the months before the event. (Thank you!)
A few quick errands, and we arrived at the Sanfilippo Estate for final touches and setup.
Soon after the guests arrived, and while I waited for Neil and Maria Dahvana Headley in the Carousel Pavilion, I received texts from the folks at the house with updates on guests’ arrivals and the progress of signings and check-in.
Others will surely do the same, and in many ways their perspective is better than mine because they entered into the evening as participants, stepping into the “container” that I helped to create with the assistance of talented friends. It’s like a magic trick, best enjoyed by the audience (but savored in a different way by those who know the trick).
The afternoon was a whirlwind of rehearsals, tours, photos, and the eventual start of the ceremony.
After Gary K. Wolfe’s inspired introduction, Neil’s reading of “A Solar Labyrinth,” and his heartfelt presentation of the Fuller, Gene took the stage.
His speech was so gracious and genuine, so smart and witty—so very Gene.
After Gene’s speech, I knew I could relax. I never doubted that Terra Mysterium’s performance of Gene Wolfe’s “The Toy Theater” (adapted by Lawrence Santoro) would be wonderful, and it was.
Once the organist R. Jelani Eddington took the stage, I slipped into the foyer where I could still hear the music.
A small group of us had gathered there: Neil, Peter Straub, Carl and Mark, Audrey, Kyle, and Maria, and 8 Eyes Photography.
Neil told me that Amanda had called at precisely the moment when one of the marionettes was singing “Coin-Operated Boy” during the audio-play. It made me smile. Neil had been such an invaluable ally, and I liked being able to slip in a little echo of Amanda into the evening; the song was a perfect addition to the story and the setting.
So much followed, from fun photos on the grand staircase to the Great Coat Closet Party of '12, while in the adjoining music salon Jelani played Star Wars on the 8,000-pipe Wurlitzer.
I love this incredible circle of creative people in my life. They don't all appear in the photos here, but I remember their contribution. I couldn't have done it without them. The evening was proof that together we can make magic.