Weekend Herald - Canvas

Out to destroy the patriarchy

Novelist Isabel Allende talks to about sexist criticism, rewriting Barbara Cartland and finding love again in her 70s

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As a child growing up in Chile, Isabel Allende remembers her grandfathe­r declaring that “all men should get married but no woman should”.

“He believed marriage was a terrible deal for women,” explains the 77-year-old author of internatio­nal bestseller­s such as The House of Spirits, Ines of My Soul and Paula.

“Things have changed — but not that much. I still think that in general the stability, happiness and comfort of the family depends on the mother and that she has to sacrifice herself for the wellbeing of the family. I still believe that marriage is a bad deal for women today.”

I let this lie a moment. After all, it’s early morning in San Rafael, northern California — Allende’s home since 1989 — and early on in my interview with the world’s most widely read Spanish-language author: a woman whose 24 books have sold more than 74 million copies worldwide.

Besides which, Allende isn’t easy to challenge. She’s forthright, feisty and fast-talking. It’s only on my second try that I manage to interject: surely marriage can’t be that bad if she’s done it three times? The last being four months ago? Allende lets out a peal of laughter.

“I know I said I’d never marry again. I said: ‘No, no, no.’ But my first marriage [at 19, to Miguel Frias, the father of her two children, Nicolas and Paula] lasted 29 years, and my second [to California­n attorney Willie Gordon], 28. Although really both of those marriages ended by their 20th year — and the rest of the time was spent trying to fix them. Anyway this time I don’t have 20 years, so this will be my last marriage.”

Allende’s new husband will be glad to hear it. Widowed lawyer Roger Cukras fell in love with Allende when he heard her talking on the radio five years ago. “He started writing to me every morning and evening for five months,” Allende tells me. “Then I went to New York to meet him and he immediatel­y proposed. I said: ‘You’re absolutely crazy, I don’t even know you.’ And we had a long-distance relationsh­ip until he sold his house, gave away everything he owned and came to live with me. A year later, we got married.”

Late in life love and the unpredicta­bility of love are two key themes in Allende’s new book, A Long Petal of the Sea.

“Because I wanted to portray the kind of love that doesn’t usually get portrayed in books.”

And because people kept asking Allende what it was like to fall in love at her age.

“I’d tell them it’s the same as being in love at 20, but with a sense of urgency. So you don’t have time for jealousy or pettiness; you just focus on the fact that you can sit out on the deck watching the sunset together and fall asleep holding hands every night.” Not such a terrible deal then?

Meekly, she says: “I am very happy.” Inspired by the real-life exile of 2200 Spaniards to Chile on SS Winnipeg after Franco’s victory in the Spanish Civil War in 1939, A Long Petal of the Sea tells the story of a fictional young doctor, Victor Dalmau and his sister-in-law, Roser Bruguera, as they try to carve out new lives for themselves in a country that, far from being the safe haven they imagined, descends into the same violence and repression they fled.

The tale is peppered with autobiogra­phical detail. Allende was forced to flee to Venezuela when her father’s cousin, President Salvador Allende, was toppled by Pinochet’s bloody military coup. I’m curious to know whether the Lima-born daughter of a secretary at the Chilean Embassy still feels hatred for the dictator who went on to rule Chile for 17 years.

“No.” She sounds surprised. “I don’t feel hatred towards anybody, because it’s a burden that you carry and usually the person that you hate is not even aware of it. So in the end it’s just suffering.”

Those who have experience­d true suffering often have a greater capacity for joy. That is certainly true of Allende, who says simply: “I would not be a writer today without having been exiled. I wrote [debut novel] The House of Spirits as an exercise in memory about that time.”

When her daughter Paula died at 29 in 1992 after falling into a porphyria-induced coma from which she never recovered, Allende turned the letter she began writing to her daughter at her bedside into a memoir that touched the hearts of millions. And although talking about Paula still renders Allende mute with emotion, she was able to find joy in the knowledge “that in Spain for a couple of years afterwards, Paula was the most popular girl’s name”.

The success of The House of Spirits — which became an instant worldwide bestseller in 1982 — bred a superstiti­on in Allende and she starts every new book on the same date she started writing the famous family saga: January 8.

Yes, she is recognised in airports — “I get asked for selfies all the time and, oh God, I look like a frog!” — but neither that nor the number of books she has sold “diminishes the effort needed to write the next story. It’s a constant struggle and there’s always that terror that the muse will betray me.”

With a brand of inverted snobbery that’s particular to the art and literary worlds, Allende has been scoffed at for her success — proof, jealous detractors feel, that she’s not a “real” writer. Isn’t much of that not just down to her popularity but her sex? “Yes! As a woman writer you get judged in a much harsher way than any man. But that’s something you have to put up with. I get a lot of positive things too, and I don’t want to sit on my laurels. But oh, the older white men at cocktail parties who — when I tell them what I do — say: ‘I don’t read books written by women.’”

And I can actually hear the serenity draining out of her and the rage setting in. “They say this to my face!” Relaxing into laughter again Allende tells me how adept she’s become at flinging back: “I totally understand. I don’t read books written by men either.” Allende comes from a generation of women who saw the point of feminism before the waves and the hashtags muddied its objectives.

For her, there is ultimately only one: “To destroy the patriarchy. And for that we need a lot of young foot-soldiers, and for developed countries not to become complacent. Because it means changing the fundamenta­l structure of the world in which we live.”

This is a woman who was sacked from a job translatin­g romance novels by writers such as Barbara Cartland after it was discovered that she had been changing the heroines’ dialogue to make them sound more intelligen­t.

“They were so dumb! So dumb! I mean they all had big breasts and green eyes, but for God’s sake! So I changed a few things to make them sound better ... and I changed a few endings too.” Wait — she changed the endings? “Well I always hated those fairy tales where the women were victims as a child.

“And, thankfully, now there are so many girls and women in literature who are portrayed as powerful, independen­t and challengin­g.”

— Telegraph Media Group

by Isabel Allende (Bloomsbury, $37) is out now

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