A Manual on How to Destroy Yourself
an Interview with Mario Senzale
Even with my penchant for maximalism, I can appreciate the brilliant restraint in “Procedures.” The unnamed main character moves through the story with such a single-minded focus that all other aspects of himself fade into irrelevancy. The story is smart, cold, and sharp as a scalpel. Every time I read it, I’m surprised by how disturbed I feel by the end.
I had the pleasure of interviewing Mario Senzale about medicine, (the lack of) backstory, and giving in order to receive. Enjoy!
Kara Crawford: There is so much to say and to ask about the main character of “Procedures”! To start, why did you choose to leave him unnamed?
Mario Senzale: Hi Kara, thank you very much for having me! I think this comes to my modus operandi of writing. My writing might seem very cerebral, but I (initially) write on a stream of consciousness*. I do establish the plot points I want to make beforehand, and I write the “essential” details that I need to “move the plot,” but in the case of this story, the character didn’t need a name because nobody ever referred to him—not at a “human” level. He’s closer to being an object than a person, and his goal, as of every human, is to interact with the universe, to receive. Early in the story, he notices that, to receive, he needs to give. And he does, in a big way. I’m not sure how many spoilers you want me to give, but let’s say there’s only a finite number of things you can give to “the system” for it to care about you.
*I do edit after writing—a lot. I would say that, for each minute spent in writing, I edit for 10-20 minutes, if not more.
KC: I feel as though it’s rare to find a character with such a singular motivation and defining characteristic. In addition to not knowing his name, we also don’t know his age, his job, or, really, anything about him other than his desire to be monitored. Could you talk about your decision to home in on this one aspect so much that it overshadows everything else about the character?
MS: Lovely question! In this case, we don’t need any of the information you mention to move the plot. Sure, it would be nice to have more “humane” material to relate to at a “human” level, but we don’t need extra hypotheses to arrive at the conclusion, and the beauty of this piece, at least in my opinion, is how smoothly, how meticulously it takes us there. I’m a mathematician and, when I write, I follow the hypothesis → thesis path. I’m very happy that readers seem to be digging this “alternative style” of writing, which can feel so distant and so cold—so far from MFAs, but at the same time, very related to the STEAM movement: Science, Technology, Engineering, the Arts and Mathematics. Like math, this piece tries to describe something universal, the basic principles of what makes a human a human. And it grabs some elements from J.G. Ballard, some of that “dehumanization,” to ask the question of what does a human need.
KC: An aspect of this story that I really admire is how you resist over-explaining the main character’s backstory. You do not lay out a detailed account as to why he is the way he is, why he wants what he wants. Instead, the reader must simply accept his neuroses, and must also accept that there might not be an easy explanation as to why the character is that way. Why did you forgo a backstory-based explanation for the main character’s behavior? How do you think this decision affected the story?
MS: To answer the former question, I think, if I had included those things, it would be a completely different story—one that happened to Mark Spalvier, 43 years old, who works at Sabre Corporation, who prefers Chipotle over Qdoba, who stays for a couple minutes in the car checking his cell phone before entering his house, who leaves his shoes at the entrance because that seems cleaner, who chooses Reese’s Pieces from vending machines, who tried a Red Bull drink when he was in his 20s and didn’t like it, who… you follow what I’m saying? By avoiding backstory, I’m talking to something universal from the go. I’m talking about you, me, him, everybody—sure, a “sicker” version of everybody, but everyone’s a bit sick in their own ways. I think that answers the first question as well.
KC: The two backstory scenes we do get, though, are brief and restrained. Why did you feel it was important to keep these scenes so short (even when they were communicating something shocking and awful)?
MS: Good question! Because I’m mean, I suppose. I’m giving the minimum information that you need to arrive at your own conclusions. Sure, I could have completely avoided those scenes, but I felt the reader was going to enjoy having a “connection” to explain the behavior of the character. I didn’t want the reader to just think, “this guy is fucked in the head.” I think most “human” behaviors have a psychological explanation. If you really think about it, I went the “easy” route—I made it “Freudian,” the “elementary” unit that most of our brains would select to explain the behavior. In that sense, I think I was quite generous, giving the readers a bit of an “aha” moment. But I was also selfish because I used that empathy I “gifted” the reader, that small “gift,” to destroy them in the end.
KC: Every time I return to this story, I am struck by the sad, desolate tone in the final section. By the end, the main character has seemingly achieved his goal, and yet, the tone does not reflect this victory. Could you talk about your choice to end the story on this note?
MS: It’s the good ole’ “be careful what you wish for” theme. I think there’s a limited number of selections we can make—in writing, in art, in life. The story itself, it’s “The Monkey’s Paw,” “King Midas,” “The Fisherman and His Wife.” I bet we can make a list of all the possible “plots” and the number will be, what, a few hundreds or less? And sure, we can go all “avant-garde” and write things nobody expects—but that kind of beats the art of plot, since it does not allow you to interact “in a big way” with the readers, with the universe. It’s like if I give a high school student a beautiful derivation of a math equation that uses techniques they’re not familiar with. It’s meaningless, they won’t be able to appreciate the beauty. As “writers” or “artists,” we cannot be that naïve as to think that everyone has the same framework we have—but we can “aim” at using a common framework, a common language. That would allow us to “receive” the most from the universe. And notice that, at a below-ground level, this story is about writing—the character is taking pieces of himself to give to a universe that refuses to give anything back. And he tries and tries, deeper, more personal, more “his.” I think the ending is as “happy” as an ending can be in this context—maybe Mark Spalvier, 47 years old, who works at Sabre Corporation, ended up happier.
KC: Throughout the story, you provide intensely detailed descriptions of medical procedures and phenomena. What was the research process like for this piece?
MS: Fantastic question! While I’m formally a mathematician, I work in cancer research, so I’m very familiar with a lot of these procedures— however, I did have to search a lot of “details” online. I really enjoyed spewing a lot of information about the process, almost like writing a manual on how to destroy yourself. I also have a disease that requires me to get monitored every 6 months or so, to check that the medication I’m taking is not messing me up. LDH levels, MELD scores, I go over my numbers every 6 months—so I guess I’m not that far from the character as one can think—or maybe I’m the character, who knows? I’m just messing around. I think it’s cool what the mind does. I heard many artists say that they just turn the “antenna” on and then get whatever is floating around—I think that’s true, but also, everything gets “mixed” with our own experiences and emotions. Like, my boss got cancer (hope he gets better) and he’s been going through these experimental treatments. I Google a lot because I want to know. In this specific case, I didn’t look into scientific articles—I just used websites and “mainstream” knowledge available around.
KC: To end the interview on a lighter note, I want to talk about medical dramas. These days, they are pretty ubiquitous. Do you watch any medical-themed TV? If so, do you have a favorite?
I loved that question! I think the last medical-themed TV show I saw was Scrubs back in the 2000s! I do watch a lot of reality TV: Love Island, Dragula, stuff like that—shows where people are being constantly monitored.
Thank you very much for the interview! I appreciate you guys publishing this story and having me! On a selfish note, I'm putting the finishing touches on my first short story collection, Everything Costs and Nobody Got — no release date yet, but readers can follow along at mariosenzale.neocities.org. Good vibes for everyone!