Talking With Molly Molly Ivins Brings Her Liberal Voice And Trademark Wit To Spokane
Molly Ivins’ voice rumbles through the phone receiver. She’s already postponed this interview twice, and her voice - which carries the tenor of a foghorn in need of tune - still shows the nagging effects of a bad cold.
Illness and decades of cigarette smoke, in fact, make her sound like Lauren Bacall gargling.
But the famous Ivins spirit is present. The longtime syndicated columnist is scheduled to speak Tuesday night at Gonzaga University, and she’s anxious to help publicize that fact.
So she perks up, especially when politics, as it must, is mentioned. Being a liberal voice in the era of Limbaugh takes nerve, if not gall, and Molly Ivins has plenty of both.
When she’s asked how it feels to be the most hated woman in America by conservatives, she merely laughs.
“Well, of course I’m honored,” she says. “How delightful. Jeez, I’m puttin’ that on my resume.”
When reminded that Sen. Robert Dole has promised to retire if his third bid for a Republican presidential nomination fails, she laughs again. “Oh say, that’s good news,” she says.
And then she evokes a laugh from her audience of one by doing what she has done in hundreds of newspapers columns: She takes a shot at a politician, in this case one from her home state of Texas.
“Of course, we have Phil Gramm,” she says, “the candidate for people who think that Robert Dole is not mean enough.”
Bear witness, folks, to the trademark Ivins wit.
That wit, plus her opinionated view of the American political scene, has accompanied her trek from Houston to prestigious Smith College and Columbia University and on to jobs for such newspapers as the Houston Chronicle, the Minneapolis Star Tribune, the Dallas Times Herald, the New York Times and, for the past several years, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.
And it’s served her well. Three times she’s been a Pulitzer Prize finalist. Two times she’s had her columns collected in book form (1991’s “Molly Ivins Can’t Say That, Can She?” and 1993’s “Nothin’ But Good Times Ahead”).
Only once in a while does she back away from her ferocious, biting wit. But when she does, as she did recently in commenting on Robert McNamara’s mea culpa about the Vietnam War, the result still makes for choice reading.
Unlike many armchair critics, Ivins admires McNamara’s willingness to do that which is so unlike an upperlevel bureaucrat: Tell the truth and take responsibility for his actions.
“There was an interesting editorial in the New York Times,” she says. “It was sort of harsh on McNamara, saying it’s all very well to say you were wrong and be sorry about it. But there were people who paid a real high price for your mistake. It was a much tougher tone. And while I don’t think they’re wrong, I’m just still not sure there’s any place left for anger.”
Not over Vietnam, anyway. But to Ivins, that doesn’t hold true for those political and/or cultural commentators who abuse their obligation to provide both laughter and enlightenment.
“It really is fairly easy to make a distinction between what you can be funny about and what you can’t,” she says. “I think that political satire is properly aimed at people with power. When you aim political satire at powerless people, it is not only cruel, it is profoundly vulgar.”
In Ivins’ view, vulgar is a two-word phrase: Howard Stern.
“I’ve never been one to sit around, you know, shaking my finger and saying, ‘Oh, you’ve gone too far.’ But the same (rationale) that gives Howard Stern the right to make cruel fun of the death of (Latina singing star) Selena and Hispanics in this country gives me the right to note that the man is a certified, bona-fide, blue-belly butthole.”
And what about the dean of conservative talk-show hosts, the aforementioned Limbaugh? Well, she’s kinder - if only for the moment and up to a point. Rush’s function, she says, is less to mine humor than to serve as an outlet for his listeners’ rage.
“He gives people scapegoats,” she says. “He gives them someone to blame for the fact that their lives (stink). And most people really are in trouble. If you’re not a college graduate these days, your chances of getting the American dream are just pretty damn slim.”
True, Ivins provides a similar service for her liberal audience. And true, she’s every bit as wicked, whether it’s saying that Dan Quayle looks like Princess Diana in drag or saying that Quayle’s wife, Marilyn, bears a close resemblance to Prince Charles. Also in drag.
So if you don’t like what she has to say, well, bear in mind that:
1. She doesn’t read unsigned letters.
2. On even-numbered days she reads her letters “with great attention, hoping that I can learn from it when I’ve annoyed somebody. I try to figure out, you know, was there a way I could have talked to this person, got them to listen? Did I say something flip that turned them off before they got to the information? Did I present the case strong enough? There must be some way that this person and I can talk about this.”
3. And on odd-numbered days, she simply takes all the hate mail, utters a familiar profanity involving people who can’t take a joke, “and I throw it all in the trash.”
MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: Lecture information Syndicated columnist Molly Ivins will speak on the politics of Texas and the nation at 7:30 p.m. Tuesday at Gonzaga University’s Martin Centre. General admission tickets are $25 and $15; for information, call 325-SHOW.