Family focus for Keyes
Sue Green talks to Marian Keyes about why the best-selling author’s novels aren’t self-therapy .
It’s not a standard author interview question, but Marian Keyes – with the warm-heartedness and humour that enliven her novels – takes it in her stride. No, she doesn’t have an eating disorder. It’s not unreasonable to ask. After all, this recovering alcoholic drew on her own experience in her third novel, Rebecca’s Holiday. So did she do so in creating bulimic hotel receptionist Cara, in her 14th, Grown Ups? ‘‘No,’’ she says firmly. ‘‘I was interested to write about it because it is an addiction that hides in plain sight, and there is so much misinformation about it. I know two people who are in recovery.’’ It seems risky. Keyes, 56, has tackled difficult topics, including infidelity and relationship breakdown, depression and suicide, domestic violence, and even rape. But bulimia, characterised by forced vomiting after eating, could surely be off-putting? ‘‘I hope that I created such a sensitive and likeable character that the readers will go with her on that journey,’’ Keyes says. ‘‘It is really important to be respectful and also not to sugar the pill. I wanted it to be a realistic depiction of what it was like. I don’t like novels that take things that cause people a lot of pain and paint them in a less than respectful way.’’ She did draw on her own experience, to a point. ‘‘I am a recovering alcoholic. They are both addictions. They are different ways of coping, so I understand the fundamental need in any addiction. Bulimia is not about managing your weight.’’ But this isn’t therapy. ‘‘I don’t use the novels for catharsis. A lot of people do, and a lot of people assume that novelists do. I don’t want to write a novel exploring my own feelings about it . . . it is just another tricky storyline.’’ Grown Ups, centred on the Casey family, has plenty of those. Cara is married to Ed, one of three brothers. In the prologue, at a family lunch for brother Johnny’s birthday, she blurts out closely guarded secrets while concussed after a head injury. Keyes then steps back six months to reveal how it came to this. There’s a large, vivid cast – a family tree is provided. That’s a bugbear with some reviewers, as is Grown Ups’ size – it’s more than 600 pages. Keyes knows she’s lucky her publishers don’t reduce her huge drafts – being one of Ireland’s most successful novelists, with more than 30 million books sold in 33 languages, undoubtedly helps. ‘‘There is a vogue for shorter books. They are less expensive to print and to translate. But it [the size] seems to be getting worse as I get older. The need to explore every character’s backstory is very important to me.’’ Not that she plans it all. ‘‘It’s like those old photographs that printed out in front of your eyes, Polaroids. The stories develop slowly, I have a vague idea for each person before I start. I know a little bit about them and that reveals a bit more, and that might change what I have already written and I go back. ‘‘This book was slightly different. I had the idea for the plot before I began. I needed three secrets. Money is always a good one.’’ Certainly money – the having and the losing of it – is integral here, with Johnny’s controlling, spendthrift wife Jessie using it to exert power over others. ‘‘To a certain extent, she buys their loyalty. But she is aware of it and they are aware of it,’’ Keyes says. That does not sit well with activist Nell, whose marriage to obnoxious third brother Liam sours. Keyes won’t characterise him as the baddie though. ‘‘As I have gotten older, I dislike the idea of baddies, because I think everyone is nuanced. But realistically, there is one person who is beyond redemption for the plot to work.’’ She is surprised when I speculate that Kiwi family members would be less tolerant of what these put up with. Yes, Irish families are close, muses Keyes who lives near hers in a coastal Dublin suburb with husband Tony Baines. ‘‘But I do think people remain connected with their parents, even when they are in middle-age. This is the fourth time we’ve spoken, usually in person, but today in a chain of phone interviews. Her warmth to interviewers and readers has been a marketing gift and she seems to enjoy it. We marvel that it’s more than two decades since we first spoke. Her first novel, Watermelon, was published in 1995. ‘‘It’s bizarre really that so much time has passed and they are still letting me do it,’’ she laughs. ‘‘It is a lovely feeling that people have stuck with me and still want to read me after all this time. Reader habits change and most careers have a limited lifespan. I sort of feel that I can keep doing it indefinitely, if I can be allowed to take two to five years to write a book. ‘‘I’m focused on people and interested in people and how the world shapes us and circumstances shape us. I am allowed to write the kind of books that I want to write and I am given free rein.’’