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.