Shriver speaks
U.S. novelist explains why she withheld terrorism satire in wake of 9/11,
London-based, North Carolina-born journalist and novelist Lionel Shriver — she abandoned her given name, Margaret Ann, at age 15 — wrote her latest book, The New Republic, more than a dozen years ago, before the Orange Prize-winning We Need to
Talk About Kevin. Her 7th published novel brought her instant literary fame in 2005, and was subsequently adapted for a movie. Fame has drawn attention to her earlier work, published over the previous 25 years, and post- Kevin sales of her previously neglected novels, as well as Post-birthday
World, in 2007 and So Much For That, in 2010, have gone a long way to validating her publishers’ faith in her, and recouping their long-term investment. In the following Q&A, Shriver, 54 — she’s married to jazz drummer Jeff Williams and owns up to “a violent, retrograde right-wing streak that alarms and horrifies my acquaintances in New York” — talks about the price and benefits of fame, and the reasons The New Republic hasn’t seen print till now.
Q: Has literary fame and a successful movie adaptation of one of your novels ( We Need to Talk about Kevin) made it easier for you to get published?
A: I’ve had the same publisher (British independent Serpent’s Tail, now owned by Profile Books) for multiple books, so my currency isn’t as big an issue as it used to be when I worried about whether my work would be published at all. Most of my anxiety has to do with whether a particular book is good, not if it will see print. Q: Do you care about bad reviews? A: I wouldn’t be so insincere as to say I don’t care. Writers who say bad reviews don’t hurt their feelings are lying. If a review is insulting I’m a little wounded. But it’s almost worse when someone likes a book for the wrong reasons, because he or she just didn’t get it. That’s when you ask yourself, why did I bother?
Q: You’ve had a string of literary successes. How has that changed your life?
A: Finally I own my own house. On the material level, that’s all I’ve ever wanted, and it makes a big difference, although it’s not a very fancy house and it’s in a rubbish neighbourhood in London. I get more opportunities to write columns for newspapers. If anything, I’m becoming less self-impressed. At a certain age you start realizing your own limitations, and that’s very discouraging.
Q: You were living in Ireland when you wrote The New Republic. Were the subject matter and treatment affected by the political and social circumstances there? A: Living in Northern Ireland . . . an important distinction. And yes, my experiences there fed into the book, even though I was not keen to write another book set in Belfast. I’d already done that ( The Bleeding Heart, 1990). And the issues in Northern Ireland are so loaded, so divisive, that I decided to take the subject matter away from that particular place and those particular politics.
Q: Yet the novel has the quality of satire, even farce.
A: The texture is intentionally light. That makes the subject matter easier to take. It’s meant to be entertaining, not some heavy, sonorous, moralistic essay decrying the evils of terrorism. Who would read that? Q: Why did you feel this book, though written in the year or so before 9/11, wasn’t suitable for publication after the attacks on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon?
A: A novel with such a light tone and texture, a funny novel, would not have been acceptable immediately after 9/11. It would have been seen to be in poor taste. I deliberately withheld it. Ten years later we’re not so sensitive, and we can take a joke once in a while. Back then, it wasn’t as pertinent as it is now. Americans did not regard terrorism as a domestic issue till 9/11.
Q: How do you feel about the obvious comparisons critics have drawn to Evelyn Waugh’s Scoop?
A: I take them as a compliment. That book’s a lot of fun. I haven’t read it in a long time. Both books mock the Fourth Estate, which is kind of timely in my case, given what’s going on with Rupert Murdoch and his news empire.
Q: At the beginning of the book you use former Canadian and British press baron (and current U.S. convict) Conrad Black’s infamous quote about journalists being “ignorant, lazy, opinionated, and intellectually dishonest.” Is that your view, too?
A: I included that quote for the irony and darkness it carries, given what’s happened to him. It’s a great quote, but coming from him, it’s hilarious.
Q: You’re known for novels about big and ugly issues that others have trouble confronting — school shootings ( We Need to Talk About Kevin), the Troubles ( The Bleeding Heart), the inadequacies of the American health care system ( So Much For That) and now terrorism and duplicitous media. Do you feel compelled to address tough issues?
A: Life is short. Careers are even shorter. You might as well spend your time writing about something of at least nominal importance. I look for subjects that don’t seem to have been relentlessly addressed. I like going where it isn’t crowded. It would be harder for me to re-write stories that everyone else has written than to confront issues others shy away from.