BBC2 Documentary on Arson

When I received an email and a phonecall about my novel, A Portrait of the Arsonist as a Young Man from the BBC yesterday, I felt a frission of excitement. And who wouldn't? I was told that the BBC were in the process of making a film about firesetters, that they'd read and been interested in my novel and the research that had gone into it. We spoke about the possible motivations behind the behaviour of arsonists, about the forensic psychology of firesetting, and how my novel had been partly inspired by a real-life story of a publishing house been burnt to the ground!

Obviously, they were not making a documentary about me or my novel, I understood that, I'm not that vain, but it was a nice reminder to myself of the importance of writing a book with contemporary relevance. Statistically, the crime of arson is on the increase...but the psychologists are only now getting into the minds of the firesetters themselves.

The BBC2 documentary will be out in September, and I'll be watching...just in case I'm quoted...

...but don't quote me on that!

BBC interview now available at The Bakery

If you missed my interview with the BBC c/o the fabulous Bakery (bakers Richard Dadd and Dan Fryer), please find the link below:

http://www.webakestuff.co.uk/listen/

Thanks go especially to comedian, writer, actor (and folk group member?), Richard Dadd, who does a frighteningly good job playing the narcissistic arsonist, Ben Tippet.

Author interview now online

Follow the link to read an interview with me on KCC's library website:

http://www.kent.gov.uk/leisure_and_culture/libraries/books_and_reading/author_interviews.aspx

 

 

Canterbury Laureate Mentoring Scheme

I'm delighted to say that four fiction-writers have been selected for the mentoring scheme this year, instead of the originally planned two. They will be mentored by myself or by novelist, Danny Rhodes. The four mentees are, in alphabetical order: Chris Bennett, Denny Flowers, Emmi Itaranta and Rebecca Seery. Writers with great potential.

News of the scheme, biographies of the four mentees selected, and details of other highly commended writers can be found on the Write Here, Write Now website:
http://www.write-here.net/main.cfm

Andrew

Ishiguro 2: Internationalism

Internationalism in fiction was definitely one topic or theme that Ish really wanted to speak about at the event. We discussed it at length on the telephone weeks beforehand, and then again only half an hour before the event itself. In some previous interviews, Ish has voiced his views on what makes a common language in fiction. After all, his books have been translated into 40 different languages.

I phrased my question to him on the subject like this:

How do you account for the huge international success of your writing? Is it the careful consideration of language, the use of universal cultural reference points such as war, fascism, scientific revolution, or is it the the notion of universal themes and characters? Finally, what do you see as the advantages and dangers of authors consciously writing for an international audience?

I also mentioned in passing some things he'd said in the past that had intrigued me: "The deeper the truth the more likely it is to be international." "Often, I think international books are rooted in a very small place."

Ish's response was that internationalism can be a very positive thing; a writer can share his/her ideas with many nations. Ish is very conscious of the language he uses, making sure not to use parochial references that would make no sense in other countries. This includes puns. He was sure the international appeal of his writing was down to his thinking universally about themes and ideas more than anything else. As a well-travelled writer, he is acutely aware that audiences vary in their culture and language. He doesn't want to confuse a reader, no matter what their original language might be.

He pointed out though, that there was a huge danger with globalisation; in trying to reach out to an international audience writers might all begin sounding and looking the same - what he called the McDonald's or Starbucks effect. A one-size-fits-all approach would be the wrong one, in his view. He reminded the audience of the parochialism of fiction in England before the 1980s, before the success of Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children changed things. Ish's A Pale View of Hills and An Artist of the Floating World were part of the same broadening literary horizon. He said it was good that writers were beginning to address a wider audience, a postcolonial world. But at the same time, decades on, he thought there was a great danger that important local cultures might be swallowed up by such sweeping changes in publishing in attempts to adopt the so-called worldview. Branding, in theory, could banish the unusual, the individual, the unique.

Going back to what I had mentioned to him before about "the international being rooted in a very small place" - he agreed, though what this "small place" is or means is still open to question.

I guess as writers we should start small, with the germ of an idea, and then, gradually, to think bigger. Perhaps we should ask ourselves as we write: who is my audience? Why should my writing matter to them? Am I writing for me, for my friends and family, or for a much wider public? If so, how do I avoid the pitfalls of parochialism?

It's interesting. In the 1980s, Robert McCrum (Ish's editor at Faber back then) wrote about the significance of the English language around the world, and now considers its gradual transmutation into "Globish" - a universal hybrid in a rapidly changing technological world - in his new book, of the same name (out with Viking in May).

I open the question out to everyone who writes: are you parochial? What "language" do you write in? Are you universal? Do you speak Globish?

Having recently re-read all of Kazuo Ishiguro's fiction, I know Ish doesn't write in Globish. His prose is more considered and crafted. Yet somehow, no doubt it is a gift, he succeeds in starting from a small place and ending up all over the world.

Ishiguro 1: Comedy - to pun or not to pun...

I asked Ish a question about the increasing use of comedy in his novels and short stories. After all, I pointed out, The Remains of the Day is funny in places, often at the expense of the narrator, Stevens the butler, because he is unable to exchange light-hearted banter with his American employer. The Unconsoled is tragic in many ways but also the story slowly builds to absurd and farcical proportions. In Nocturnes (recent short story collection) at least two of the five stories are absurd and surreal as situational comedies. I wanted to explore with Ish his ability to combine tragedy and comedy in his fiction (something he's not usually asked), more particularly, how does he balance pathos with pleasure? How difficult is it to maintain the two aspects of tragedy and comedy? And who are his comic inspirations?


Ish's answers were very interesting. He said that although comedy is a feature of his work, it's not central to it, and that The Remains of the Day was meant to be funny as well as meaningful, though few readers got the joke. He said that humour is very difficult to get right; it is after all one of the most subjective forms of writing and not necessarily universal in its effect. A joke in England may not translate well in different countries, for instance. Puns, he said, are often region or country-specific. He added that he didn't see the point of puns in general- they are like a person standing on the pavement pointing at the wonder of two very similar cars passing on a road.


I disagreed with Ish, pointing out that readers found the title of my my first novel, A Portrait of the Arsonist as a Young Man (clearly a pun on James Joyce's first novel) funny. Of course, James Joyce liked the wordplay involved in punning, using one in Finnegan's Wake: "As different as York from Leeds" (as different as chalk from cheese). Shakespeare could hardly get by in a play without using at least one pun, and over 300 in his work over all. Oscar Wilde loved puns. Ish would not be swayed. Perhaps, like Samuel Johnson, he thinks that puns are "the lowest form of humour"?


Ish listed the comedians he found funny and tragic as writers, actors characters and performers. Chaplin, Tati, Woody Allen, even Tom Waits who he suggested played the tragic clown very well, someone who comes over as slightly absurd but who has important things to say about the dark side of life. I suggested it was the idea of the "Holy Fool" that appeals to an audience, which Ish agreed with. He added that the novel he was currently working on was very dark, with little humour in it.


That was our public conversation, but in private we had discussed humour in his work and I had suggested to him that his style of comedy, for me, was founded more in a classic European tradition. The Unconsoled, for instance, is less about funny characters (though there are some in the book) and more about funny situations that build and build. I mentioned Gogol's play, The Government Inspector which his novel reminded me of, and Kafka's Metamorphosis, and Dostoevsky, Tolstoy all of whom are darkly humorous at times. He didn't disagree.


My overall view of the comedy in Ish's fiction, is that he never uses it just for the sake of the joke alone; the joke in itself would not appeal necessarily to a wide audience which is what he is always aiming for. It has a deeper narrative and thematic purpose. The joke, as it were, is often at the expense of a central character to highlight an idea or a theme. Always with Ish, the humour has metaphorical effect. It hopefully entertains but there is a suspicion at a deeper level that the laugh may be short-lived. Used economically and wisely, humour in a novel or a short story can have a subtle yet powerful effect.



Personally, I don't have a problem with puns, in writing or in real life. They are, after all, playing with words and images in the mind. Not necessarily childish. I might not be the pedestrian pointing in wonder at two similar cars passing on the road, but I will smile at the following pun I just found: "Hanging is too good for a man who makes puns; he should he hung, drawn and quoted." (Fred Allen).

Andrew

Kazuo Ishiguro update

This photograph was taken just after the public event with Ish on March 24. I have lots to report about that night, not least how the interview went (briliantly by all accounts). But at this stage I'm awaiting more photographs of the two of us in conversation, and still digesting the evening. With Kazuo Ishiguro one is left pondering many things, not least the questions (for one reason or another) I did not find time to ask him in the public arena.

On the night, Ish had lots to say about his time in Canterbury as a student, his musical influences (something he doesn't usually talk about in interviews), how he approaches the use of humour in his work, the transition from lyricist to short story writer to novelist, the pros and cons of writing for a universal audience, the importance of place/setting in his fiction, among other things.

KCC Libraries were great on the night (thanks to them for this photo). The hall inside Augustine House was huge and fit to bursting with people. There was a slight blip with our lapel mics, but other than that everything ran like clockwork. My conversations with Ish (public and private) have been fascinating and I hope some of this came over in the live public event itself. The feedback from Ish, Faber, KCC Libraries and Canterbury Christ Church University has all been excellent.

What I'm hoping to do in a few future blog entries is discuss some of the questions I asked Ish, how he responded, and reveal some of the questions I had intended to ask (based on about three months of research) but never found the opportunity. Hopefully with a few more photographs!

Until then..

All the best.

Andrew