Brady Udall likes to say that without polygamy he wouldn't exist. His great-great-grandfather David King Udall was a polygamist, and David's second wife, Ida, was Brady's great-great-grandmother. "It's part of my heritage," says Udall. "It's part of who I am." It also inspired The Lonely Polygamist, the fictional story of the Richards family--all thirty-three of them--and their patriarch, Golden Richards, who, in the grips of a midlife crisis, strays outside of his three marriages and has an affair that threatens to destroy his family's future. The novel will be published next month by W.W. Norton & Co.
Udall also wrote the short story collection Letting Loose the Hounds and the novel The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint, an international bestseller. His work has appeared in The Paris Review, Playboy, GQ and Esquire, and his stories and essays have been featured on National Public Radio's This American Life. He teaches in the MFA program at Boise State University and lives in Boise, Idaho, and Teasdale, Utah, with his one wife and four children.
Good Men Project cofounder Tom Matlack recently spoke with Udall by phone and, in addition to giving him the Project's Manhood Quiz, Matlack asked Udall about his new book and about his thoughts on polygamy, and he found out who wins when Udall plays his sons in basketball.
You can listen to the interview HERE
Tom Matlack: I'd to start by hearing a little bit about your family and how you came to write a novel focused on polygamy. How did that all happen?
Brady Udall: Growing up, I didn't know a whole lot about polygamy. I grew up in the house that my great-great-grandfather built. Giant house: 10 bedrooms and seven bathrooms. We all knew that it was a polygamous house, and that we had multiple great-great-grandmothers, or however you want to put it. But it wasn't talked about a lot. And then I got the chance, in 1998, to write an article for Esquire about polygamy. So I went and did a lot of research for that and met with polygamists, and as I was doing the research, I knew that it was fascinating, and so I knew that I would write a novel about it one day.
TM: So what's your take on polygamy? How does it feel to be the result of polygamy?
BU: I always felt a little weird about it, and I guess one of the reasons for that is because I expected that polygamists were a bunch of whacked-out weirdoes. You see the stuff on TV, you hear the stuff that they supposedly do, and you automatically jump to the conclusion that they're cultists or just out of their minds in some way or another. But the people who I met and talked to were normal--just as normal as you or me. And that, to me, was much more interesting than the weirdoes. The way I looked at it was that these were normal people living in a very abnormal way. And so, to me, polygamy is just a very, very American oversized family, a family pushed to its extreme. And that's fascinating. When I think about polygamy and when I've been writing about polygamy, I think it's mostly about family. So I'm not terribly interested in why they do it. I'm more interested in how they manage it.
TM: And what did you find in terms of how the women and the men managed this arrangement?
BU: The women who I met seemed happier and more content and even more confident in many ways than the men I met. The men seemed put out. Several of them said they must be crazy to be doing what they were doing. I never heard that from the women. And it made some sense to me. Just to give you one anecdote: The guy I kind of profiled in the Esquire piece, he's a millionaire. And he has to make well over $1 million: He has four wives and 30 children. He took me into his office and showed me a dental bill for $28,000.I thought it was for the year, but it was for the month of August. He had these bills stacked up on his desk--this is in his office at work, because he doesn't actually have a house. All the wives have a house, and he just goes among them. He has a little overnight bag, and he goes from house to house like a weird traveling salesman or something. So I could see the pressure on this poor guy and what he had to think about every day and what he had to do. I think we tend to think, oh, the poor women. They have to deal with the jealousy and all of that. And maybe it's just because I'm a guy, but, man, I felt really sorry for him.
TM: I was thinking about this a little bit and joking about it: If Tiger Woods just married all of the women he has been with it would be no big deal.
BU: Exactly. The polygamists say, "Why is it weird and socially unacceptable for me to marry three women and devote my life to them when Hugh Hefner can have three or four hotties living in his mansion and everybody thinks it's fine?" I don't have a good answer for them. I won't defend polygamy, but I guess I'll defend somebody's right to engage in it, as long as they're not hurting anyone.
TM: It's interesting, in terms of the history of polygamy in our country, how judgmental we've been with it. It's obviously become this huge third rail.
BU: Especially those of us who might be more liberal-minded, we like the idea of alternative lifestyles and that people should be able to live different kinds of arrangements and so on, but when we run up against polygamy, because it's so patriarchal and so deeply conventional and conservative--it stretches back thousands of years, you know, to King Solomon with his 700 wives--we don't like it. We find it loathsome, and yet I don't think it's really any different from any other alternative lifestyle or living arrangement.
TM: How has it affected you personally? Has it changed you in any way to meet these people and reclaim the heritage of your family?
BU: I've never been embarrassed about where I've come from, but now I can say I'm proud of it. My great-great-grandfather did not really want to be a polygamist. He was pretty much ordered to be one by Brigham Young. And he ended up being sent to prison in Detroit for it. So he really suffered for it. And his second wife, my great-great-grandmother, suffered even more. She had to go underground so that she couldn't be caught and he couldn't be caught. This wasn't something they did just because they thought it would be fun or thought it would be interesting. They did it only because they thought God wanted them to do it. And I have to respect that.
TM: Your new book, The Lonely Polygamist, it's told from the perspective of the guy who's struggling to maintain this lifestyle.
BU: Yes, he's sort of the main character. It's told from his point of view, and then it's told from the point of view of one of the wives and one of the children. In the middle of writing it, what seemed pretty clear to me was that if anybody's getting the shaft in this arrangement, it's usually the children, especially the boys. There are only a few places in a polygamous community for boys, meaning not every boy can have four wives or six wives. And the boys who don't end up being the chosen ones know they are going to basically be kicked out of that community, that they're going to be pushed out. And that's really tough for a kid at, say, ten or twelve to already know that he has no place in his community.
TM: And is that historically what happened?
BU: Yeah, it happens even now. They're called lost boys, and they're the boys who end up being pushed out because there isn't a place for them, and so they act out. It's kind of a strange cultural thing that happens. They either act out, or if somebody finds a reason for them not to be there anymore, they're often pushed out at a young age, in their teens, so they can't be competition for the wives. This happens much more in the conservative polygamous communities. It's not so common in the independent ones, the more liberal ones. I guess I should make it clear that just as there are different kinds of monogamous people, there are many different kinds of polygamists.
TM: How does this selection happen? How do they pick who's the winner and the loser?
BU: It's mostly according to who you know and who you're related to, as it so often is in life. Also, it's just a kind of fatefulness. If you're already clearly one who toes the line and says the right things and does the right things, you'll be rewarded.
TM: That turn of phrase, the lost boys, that's really interesting to me. In a way, in The Good Men Project, that's what we're focused on, and there are lost boys all over this country who are left out in all kinds of ways. So how do you think this whole thing has changed your view of romantic love?
BU: I'm not sure it's changed my view that much. We have this myth in our society of the soul mate. And it's pretty silly. I think some people find one person who they're very compatible with. But most of us don't. Most of us have to figure it out and work at it. And it's possible to love more than one person at the same time. We don't want to believe it for some reason, but it is. So I think it's just opened my mind a little bit to possibilities beyond the one that we culturally accept at this time. And I think that's good.
TM: Are you married?
BU: Yeah, I'm married. and I have four kids. I've been married for eighteen years, or something like that. I've never had thirty kids; I have only four, but it seems like thirty sometimes.
TM: How old are your kids?
BU: They're fifteen, twelve, eight and six.
TM: Are you a practicing Mormon?
BU: No, I wouldn't go that far. I'm proud of being a Mormon, but I don't practice, no. The organized aspect of any religion, the kind of clone aspect of it, I don't particularly care for.
TM: What do you tell your kids about their heritage, about polygamy?
BU: They ask about it, and we talk to them about it. And since I've been working on it for so long, they've heard me have conversations with people, and I think it seems pretty normal to them.
TM: Well, let me fire some of these Man-to-Man questions at you. The first one is, who taught you about manhood?
BU: The first person who comes to mind is my grandfather, who I grew up next door to. He was a farmer, a rancher, and he was a pretty gruff person. But he taught me how to work, which is very important where I come from. He taught me how to wake up early in the morning and work all day long and not complain about it. And so he really taught me how to be the conventional ideal of a man that existed maybe fifty or sixty years ago. He wasn't a touchy-feely guy, but he expected a lot from his kids and his grandkids. And I'm glad I had that experience.
TM: How do you think romantic love has shaped you as a man?
BU: I'm not a terribly romantic person. My wife would be the first to say that. But I believe in the importance of expressing your love in very open ways. And so that's what I've tried to do more. My tendency is to do like so many other men do and hold it in and deflect it. As time has gone on, I've seen how important it is to express it openly.
TM: What two words would you use to describe your dad?
BU: Oh, wow. My dad. My dad is...he's...wow. I'm trying to come up with the two that best describe him. I would say the two words would be...wow, this is...do people have a hard time with this?
TM: Some people do. It kind of goes right to the core, you know. One of my favorite was "drunk and absent."
BU: See, that's easy. No, my dad wasn't either of those. My dad is sweet and pragmatic.
TM: What did your dad do for a living?
BU: My dad was my high school principal. It sucked.
TM: How do you think you're most unlike your dad?
BU: I'm not conventional or conservative. A lot of sons would say that about their fathers. We all think our fathers are more conventional than we are.
TM: From which mistake did you learn the most?
BU: This is general, but from the mistake of anger. That's where I've learned the most, I guess.
TM: What word would the women in your life use to describe you, and do you think it's true?
BU: They might say I'm reticent. And yeah, it's true.
TM: Who's the best dad you know, and what makes him so?
BU: I'm a pretty good dad, but I'm trying to not blow my own horn.
TM: You can say that. What makes you a good dad?
BU: The easy thing is to say my own dad. My father-in-law, who just passed away, was an incredible father in that he managed never to judge his children but still was able to discipline them. And I never figured out how he was able to pull that off.
TM: Was he a Mormon?
BU: Yeah, he was a Mormon, a very devout Mormon. So he had a very strong ethical and moral core, religious core, and yet he managed to not be judgmental, to not let anybody feel like they'd let him down. And it still amazes me when I think about how he was able to do that.
TM: Yeah, I think that's the goal. It's hard to do.
BU: It is hard to do. And I'm terrible at it. I do the old disappointed look and shake my head, and it just makes my kids wither. And then I feel bad about it.
TM: Do you think you've been more successful in your public or your private life?
BU: My public life. And that's too bad.
TM: Why do you think that is?
BU: It's easy for a lot of us, I think, to seem like we know what we're doing in public. But it's much harder to do the right things and be the right person when nobody else is watching, especially just the few people who matter most to us. And so it's always something I'm trying to be better at, at being more successful in my own home.
TM: When was the last time you cried?
BU: Oh, probably the last time Extreme Makeover: Home Edition came on television. There's some poor family, and they come into their new house, and it must makes me tear up every damn time.
TM: What advice would you give teenage boys trying to figure out what it means to be a good man?
BU: I would give the very, very old-fashioned advice, which they probably never listen to: Be yourself. Do not do something because somebody else thinks it's cool. Go your own way, and people will respect you for it.
TM: All right, here's the bonus question: What's your most cherished guy ritual?
BU: Playing pick-up basketball. I really need the release and the camaraderie of playing basketball with a bunch of guys.
TM: Do you play with your son?
BU: Oh yeah, I do. I have two sons. I'll play with both of them or one of them at a time. I used to play with my dad, so it means a lot to me.
TM: Can they beat you?
BU: Hell, no. I don't know about you, but I'm the type of dad who will not let my kids beat me at anything. I trash talk to kids, and they don't like, and that gets them frustrated. But it's sort of my way of trying to get them used to the real world.
TM: I think that as a father, you need to teach boys that being sensitive and being soft is OK, but you also need to teach them how to be tough at the right time.
BU: That's why sports is so important, both for girls and boys. In our culture they don't have to do a lot of physical stuff, usually, and so being forced to go outside their comfort zone physically is strange and difficult. And I think very often it does fall to the dad to teach them that it's going to happen to them and they have to be able to confront it at some point.