Home
cover of episode On the Couch with a Good Book: Kashyap Raja and Errol McLendon

On the Couch with a Good Book: Kashyap Raja and Errol McLendon

2023/3/17
logo of podcast The Moth

The Moth

Chapters

Emily Couch reflects on her childhood experiences with reading, thanks to her mother's efforts and the joy of sharing books with her father.

Shownotes Transcript

Support comes from Zuckerman Spader. Through nearly five decades of taking on high-stakes legal matters, Zuckerman Spader is recognized nationally as a premier litigation and investigations firm. Their lawyers routinely represent individuals, organizations, and law firms in business disputes, government, and internal investigations, and at trial, when the lawyer you choose matters most. Online at Zuckerman.com.

The Moth is brought to you by Progressive, home of the Name Your Price tool. You say how much you want to pay for car insurance, and they'll show you coverage options that fit your budget. It's easy to start a quote. Visit Progressive.com to get started. Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and Affiliates. Price and coverage match limited by state law.

This autumn, fall for Moth Stories as we travel across the globe for our mainstages. We're excited to announce our fall lineup of storytelling shows from New York City to Iowa City, London, Nairobi, and so many more. The Moth will be performing in a city near you, featuring a curation of true stories. The Moth mainstage shows feature five tellers who share beautiful, unbelievable, hilarious, and often powerful true stories on a common theme. Each one told reveals something new about our shared connection.

To buy your tickets or find out more about our calendar, visit themoth.org/mainstage. We hope to see you soon. Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Emily Couch, producer of special projects and radio at The Moth and your host for this episode. My first love was reading. This is perhaps not a shock given that I work for a storytelling organization. In fact, I'm guessing there are some book nerds among you as well. I learned to read at a young age thanks to my mom. She brought me to the Brooklyn Library all the time when I was a little kid.

I remember the children's section had this huge rug with the alphabet on it. She'd call out a letter and I would have to go run and stand on that letter. After we exhausted this activity, she'd take me to the cafeteria where we'd share some french fries, which were an excellent motivator to learn my ABCs and to visit the library. I've been a pretty big fan of reading ever since.

One thing I've noticed is that often the older you get, the more solitary reading becomes. No more spelling challenges with my mom on the ABC carpet. No more french fries in the library, unless I smuggle them in. While storytelling is, in its nature, interpersonal, books are often enjoyed alone, but they certainly don't have to be. Today's episode is all about how reading brings people together. Because a good book might be all the companion a person needs, but there's something special about sharing them with the ones you love.

First up is Kashyap Raja. He told this at a London Story Slam in 2022, where the theme of the night was, appropriately, books. Here's Kashyap, live at the Moth. So every Sunday, me and my father, we have a phone call. And after talking about politics, weather, and cricket, my dad asked me a very important question. Why don't you want to have children? I said, Dad, I'm single. So that's not important. Why don't you want to have children?

I said, "Why did you want to have children?" He said, "Because children makes us happy." I said, "Do I make you happy?" "Not much." "You will make me happy though when you will have children." I said, "Nice one. I'm not falling for that." I'm like, "Do you realize that how many of us are we in this world?" The best thing we can do for the planet, dad, is not to have children. I'm a climate activist. I'm not. I drink coffee from paper cup. I eat red meat. I am far from a climate activist.

But I don't know what to say when people ask me this question. Why don't you want to have children? I said, I don't know. I don't know. Some time ago, friends invited me to have dinner at their home. And they have a three-year-old daughter named Tanya. And I saw that this friend of mine, they were trying to feed Tanya an orange, but she was not interested in an orange. She was throwing her squishy toys, and then she jumped on a scooter, and she came riding towards me and applied the brakes right next to my feet and looked up at me and said...

"Would you like to read me a story, Cash Uncle?" I said, "Yeah, I can do that. I can read you a story." And she brings a picture book story of Gruffalo. I sit next to her and pick up an orange from a food basket. Now, Gruffalo is a picture story book which has four rhyming lines in each passage. And each passage ends with the word "Gruffalo." So I began. "The well is dry. It is so shallow.

"What should I do?" thought the poor old Graf... Every time Tania opened her mouth to say the word "Grafalo" I would very intelligently put an orange slice in her mouth. She would chew on the slice and look at me and say, "Next page please." It took me six pages and twelve Grafalos to feed an entire orange to Tania. I was a nanny!

I had fed a child and told her a story. And whilst I was throwing this orange skin into the garbage, I started feeling the tanginess of orange in my mouth. I started feeling that I have eaten that orange. I am full. Even though Tanya was the one who had eaten the entire thing, then why I'm not hungry and why I'm full? And that's when I realized. That's when I realized why people have children. I don't think I'm still ready to be a parent, or I don't know if I ever will be.

But now when a friend or a family member comes to me and said, we are expecting a child, and I feel the same happiness because I can understand how it feels like. And it's because of the Druk. Grafalo. Thank you.

That was Kashyap Raja. Kashyap is a playwright, storyteller, and theater maker from India. For the past seven years, he has been writing and producing plays in various venues of London. His last play, Earth, was performed in Bridewell Theatre in February. He is currently working on a novel that explores the theme of lucid dreaming. Kashyap's story reminded me of what a gift it was to be read to as a child.

Even after I learned to read, thanks to my mom and french fries, my dad read to me all the time when I was growing up. My favorite was Nancy Drew. He put his own spin on everything he read to me. He did all of the characters' voices in this hilarious falsetto. He refused to call Nancy's boyfriend by just his first name, Ned. Dad always had to say the full thing, Ned Nickerson, because he thought it was funny, and so did I.

And given the dated nature of many Nancy Drew books, he'd have frank conversations with me about some of the bigoted attitudes or language that was present in the pages. It was educational, fun, and it really bonded us. And it all started with a book. Up next is a story from Errol McClendon. Errol told this at a 2022 Chicago Story Slam. Here's Errol live at the Moth. My father passed away two days after Christmas, one day before my 14th birthday.

He had gone into the hospital a week before Christmas with a massive heart attack and had a second one December 27th and that was it. Now I know the belief is that if you have a birthday soon after Christmas you don't have much of a birthday but that's not true if you're a spoiled only child.

Now I didn't have a lot of guests at my birthday party, but my parents and my grandparents were there and we always had a lot of packages. We had a beautiful chocolate sheet cake and ice cream and it was kind of neat because if I didn't get what I wanted for Christmas, I knew three days later I would get those packages. But this particular year, because of my father's funeral, my mother wasn't able to do my usual birthday.

My father had a huge funeral. He was a college administrator and everybody knew him throughout the state and beyond, so it was massive. So all my mother did was give me money to go downtown in Cleveland, Mississippi with my friends and buy what I wanted. And for a 14-year-old, this was like hitting the lottery. I took my friends, I bought them lunch, I bought them some records, I bought my stuff. And I came home that night and sitting in my room, I was showing my mother all of the stuff that I had purchased.

And then it hit me and I started crying. I said there were no books. There weren't any books. My father had started a tradition on my first birthday by giving me one book, The Pokey Little Puppy. The second birthday I got two, The Little Engine That Could and The Little Red Hen. And this continued, adding books every year. By the time sixth, seventh, eighth birthday I was getting this one box of

With a tag on it, it said, To Speed, that was my father's nickname for me, from Dad. My mother left the room, and she came back with a box with a tag on it, To Speed from Dad. I opened it up, and there were 14 books. She didn't know how I would handle getting a present from my father after he was gone.

Now I usually read those books in two or three months. I was an avid reader, but this year I rationed them out. I read one or two a month so they would last for the whole year. It was the last box. On my 15th birthday, I came downstairs, there were the presents, there was the sheet cake, there was the ice cream, and there was a box with a tag on it, "To Speed from Dad." And I opened it up and there were 15 books.

When we moved to Cleveland to Delta State University in the second grade, my father had gone to the library with the head of the Children and Young Adult Literature Division and prepaid for over 150 books. So I would have books all the way through my 18th birthday. So for the next three years, 16, 17, 18, there was always a box with a tag, Two Speed from Dad,

that I would open. The 18th year, knowing that was the last box, I really did ration those books. And I held on to one for the day of my 19th birthday. The Scarlet Pimpernel. I came downstairs, there were the gifts, there was the cake, there was the ice cream, there was no box.

And then I took the Scarlet Pimpernel and I went upstairs and I read it straight through, through the afternoon, through the evening, into the next morning. And when I finished it, I cried myself to sleep, holding it to my chest. Five years later, that's when I said goodbye to my father. Thank you.

That was Errol McClendon. Errol is a two-time Moth Story Slam winner and was chosen to compete at the International Storytelling Festival in Jonesboro, Tennessee. His solo show, Interstate Stories, premiered this past January and will be part of both the Atlanta and Indianapolis Fringe Festivals this year.

I asked Errol which was his favorite of the books his father gifted him. He said that the last book he read from his father was Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky. After he told this story, he re-read it and found that the last line of the book hit him as a prophetic message, one he hadn't recognized back when he first read it. That might be the subject of a new story, but our present story is ended.

There are so many ways to connect through reading, whether it's through gifting a book, a recommendation, or reading to one another. Books, like stories, are meant to be shared. On that note, here's a shameless plug for the Moss book How to Tell a Story. It comes out in paperback on April 25th and includes an official book club guide for maximum shareability.

I leave you now with this clip of my father reading Nancy Drew to me and to all of you. Nancy Drew, an attractive girl of 18, was driving home along a country road in her new dark blue convertible. It was sweet of dad to give me this car for my birthday, she thought, and it's fun to help him in his work. That was the beginning of The Secret of the Old Clock, the first ever Nancy Drew mystery. Thanks, daddo!

That's all for this episode. Whether you're reading a book or listening to a tale told live, from everyone here at The Moth, we hope you have a story-filled week. Emily Couch is a producer on The Moth's artistic team, offering logistical support on creative projects and The Moth Radio Hour. She loves to work behind the scenes to spread the beauty of true, personal stories to listeners around the world.

This episode of the Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Janess, Sarah Jane Johnson, and me, Mark Sollinger. The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Catherine Burns, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Jennifer Birmingham, Kate Tellers, Marina Cloutier, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Leanne Gulley, and Aldi Kaza. All Moth stories are true, as remembered by the storytellers.

For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.