I read a lot. It’s what I do, read and write. I don’t know
any other writers personally but when interviewed, most writers seem to read a
lot. You have to. It’s not that you are attempting to nick other writers ideas
but other people have different, sometimes better ways of expressing things.
Just the basic decisions about structure for example and whether to speak in
first or third person are arrived at by what works well for others.
One of my all-time favourite novels is American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld. The Guardian called it the best
book of the 21st century and I wouldn’t actually disagree with that.
It was from that book I decided I would write both Riccarton Junction and Train
That Carried the Girl in first person narrative and in linear form. No
jumping about; no bringing dramatic scenes forward with which to engage the
average jaded reader. This happened and then this happened, then that happened.
The end. American Wife is both linear
and in first person and from the millions of other possibilities, that was how
I decided to tell Kiri’s story.
As a rule, I prefer current literary fiction set in the
present and ideally set in contemporary England [or rarely, Scotland]. Never
Ireland. I am not anti-American but tend to give current genre American fiction
a miss. I will read Australian fiction, Tim Winton is a favourite; great, great
writer.
I have just finished reading Burial Rites by Hannah Kent, a young
Australian author. It is currently [June 2014] in the Amazon Top ten so anyone
reading this will almost certainly know what it is about, even if they haven’t yet
read it. I loved it. Very, very briefly it is about the murder in Iceland in
1827 of two men and the subsequent trial of the two women and one man accused
of their murder. One of the women, Agnes, is held for about a year in the isolated
home of the District Officer while she is awaiting confirmation of execution for the
crime. Agnes’ story is still well-known in Iceland and has been the subject of
several books and at least one film.
So the novel is about the tensions in the relationships
between the family, the wife, two daughters and a couple of servants and the woman believed to be a double-murderer.
Hannah Kent knows her facts inside out. She spent six months
in Iceland researching and then returned for three more months, when she had
her first draft. She cleverly switches the narrative voice from Agnes in
first-person to the other characters in third person so you get what everyone
is thinking contrasted with what Agnes says actually occurred.
The book is full of convincing historical detail, the blood
sausage scene for example which is one of many authentic sounding passages that
must have taken weeks of research but occupy hardly a paragraph. In fact I
think that particular scene is only there to show [not tell!] Agnes’ power within
the household. The prose, plotting, historical detail and characterisation are
all spot on, in my view. It is an ambitious book; part crime fiction with a did-she-do-
it or was-she-framed narrative arc. Part historical fiction; the unbelievably
hard and impecunious life that Agnes led in a land where it is dark and
freezing for half the year and part social realism, particularly in the
sections dealing with the effect she has on the family and the community.
Personally, I think Hannah Kent controls it all pretty well although some
literary critics disagree.
My own books, Riccarton
and Train are similar in that there is
more than one narrative arc in play. With Riccarton
it is the Keith/crime arc; the archaeology arc entwined with the occult
mysticism of Roddy; the passion for Chris arc contrasted with the lack of
passion for Sacha and finally, her parents arc and the interior stresses of the
marriage. Too many threads? Maybe, but I don’t honestly think that I lose
control over them. But that’s for others to decide.
As I say, I think Hannah Kent maintains control over her
material. The style is assured. That may come in part from the fact that Burial Rites is based upon a true story and
real characters, although I suspect that brings its own problems for a writer. Her
range has been criticised and it is true that she has a limited handful of rhetorical
devices for expressing Agnes’ interior thoughts; passages where she has no
historical texts to guide her because they are Agnes musings to herself. In a
rather poor section very near the end, she seems to have exhausted her repertoire
of similes for expressing horror.
Overall however I loved it. I loved the little twist at the
end . . . seriously great writing . . . in respect of the fire.
The best review I have read is that by Steven Heighton in
the New York Times. It quite short, only 700 words and you can read it here.
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