"The minute you feel answerable,you're throttled."Recently, Irish novelist Edna O'Brien appeared onstae in !an "rancisco at an event sponsored by #ity $rts % &ectures, where she read from her new novel'in'proress, "(own By The River." The author of )* novels and five collections of short stories, O'Brien also tal+ed about who and what drives her to live in e,ile -in &ondon., to write about war, and to throw herself so e,ultantly into the rhythm of lanuae. You come from a country that many writers seem to leave. Is it better or easier to write about Ireland from outside? /y first boo+, "The #ountry 0irls," was a simple little tale of two irls who weretryin to burst out of their ym froc+s and their convent, and their own lives in their own houses, to ma+e it to the bi city. It anered a lot of people, includin my own family. It was banned1 it was called a smear on Irish womanhood. $ priest in our parish as+ed from the altar if anyone who had bouht copies would brin them to the chapel rounds. That evenin there was a little burnin. /y mother said women fainted, and I said maybe it was the smo+e. 2hen I wrote mysecond boo+ -"The &onely 0irls"., the opinion was the first was a prayer boo+ bycomparison. /y mother had one thouh the boo+ and in+ed out any offendin words. !o I was made to feel ashamed, made to feel I had done somethin wron. It's hard enouh to write a boo+ at all1 you have to di and di and di into your unconscious, come up with some +ind of story, and lanuae, emotion, music. $nd you'd li+e a small amount of support from someone you +new. !o if you have any deree of self'protection at all, you et out of that place, if you're oin to +eep writin. 3ames 3oyce lived all his life away and wrote obsessively and loriously about Ireland. $lthouh he had left Ireland bodily, he had not left it psychically, no more than I would say I have. I don't rule out livin some of the time in Ireland, but it would be in a remote place, where I would have silence and privacy. It's important when writin to feel free, answerable to no one. The minute you feel you are answerable, you're throttled.4ou can't do it. &it #hat pae 5You write a lot about war -- war in the house, war in the land, war in the heart. Are the Irish more prone to that particular pastime? I certainly thin+ they're more turbulent. They're more turbulent by disposition andby lanuae. $nd their history has made them suffer a hell of a lot. I have writtenabout strife between mother and child, between husband and wife, and, in "6ouseof !plendid Isolation," between two parts of the same country. $n IR$ man told me once, "2hen you're shootin, you don't feel. But when you've shot him, you do feel, because half of you hopes you ot him, and the other half hopes you didn't. Because we're all Irish under the s+in." That to me was a story about war. 2ar, whether it's between man and woman, or different parts of a country, or different nations, is always, always more complicated than 7ust the two sides. It isthat I want to write about. It's the dilemma and conflict within the obvious dilemma that matters. It would be impossible for a writer with any awareness at all about the human psyche and the human condition not to write about wars, whatever locale they are. Because people do disaree with each other1 they do sometimes forive one another, and then they re'disaree with one another. &ife is not a placid pool, it's a rain, stormin sea, which we're all in. $nd maybe I, bein from the race I am, pay more attention to that than to the entler aspects.But then, that's my fate. Is that the purpose, or the message of your writing? I'm not sure I have a messae '' Edvard /unch's "The !cream," perhaps. 8urpose9 It's a very hard :uestion to answer. "irst and foremost for me is lanuae. One of my reatest e,citements in life is to hear a piece of lanuae, a strip of a poem, li+e 2allace !tevens; "I don't +now which to prefer more,< the beauty of inflection or the beauty of innuendo,< the blac+bird whistlin, or 7ust after." I can't tell what the "purpose" of 2allace !tevens, of those three reat lines, is. $ll I +now is, when I heard them, they bestirred me. &anuae is an e,traordinary thin. It is more e,traordinary than any nuclear weapon. 4ou can do anythin with it. 3ames 3oyce did. 4ou can turn it inside out. 4ou can twist it, you can ma+e a ala,y with it, and brin out in the reader emotion and e,citement and an ecstasy the reader did not +now he or she was capable of. I love even the vaue possibility that I can be enaed in that trade or vocation. Which writers bestir you, influence you, the most? It has to be 3ames 3oyce. It's not out of national feelins that I say such a thin. It is that simply that when I was wor+in in (ublin in a chemist's shop, I one day bouht a boo+ for four pennies called "Introducin 3ames 3oyce," by T.!. Eliot, and I opened it to a section from "8ortrait of the $rtist as a 4oun /an," the #hristmas dinner scene, with the blue flame over the #hristmas puddin. =p to then, I had been writin rather fancifully, with a lot of ad7ectives. 2hen I read that, I reali>ed one thin; that I need o no further than my own interior, my own e,perience, for whatever I wanted to write. It was truly, without soundin li+e !t.8aul, an utter revelation to me. The other is 2illiam "aul+ner. If there are two men in heaven, as I hope they are '' thouh 3oyce would not want me to mention such a place '' if they are in the ether out there toether, I hope they are drin+in, and I drin+ to their reatness, towhat they have iven. It is massive what they have iven to life. There are writersand writers. But there is 3oyce and "aul+ner, for me. Wired For Books home Don Swaim InterviewsAudio Interview with Edna O'BrienEdna O'Brien, author of The Country Girls, The Lonely Girl, and Girls in Their Married Bliss (The Country ir!s tri!o"y#, August Is a Wicked Month, A Pagan Place, Mother Ireland, and Time and Tide, ta!ks with Don Swaim a$out the differen%es $etween The Country Girls and Time and Tide& She fee!s $othnove!s are views a$out !ife, $ut one is seen throu"h the eyes of a teena"er and the other is seen throu"h theeyes of authority fi"ures& Edna O'Brien says the Ire!and of her youth was a narrow, re!i"ious, %!austro'ho$i%, and 'unitive so%iety& Everythin" was redo!ent of sin in her home and she ran away and e!o'ed when she was ei"hteen years o!d&(er first nove!, The Country Girls, was sava"e!y atta%ked in Ire!and and her ear!y nove!s were $anned $y the Irish %ensorshi' $oard& In her home vi!!a"e, the 'arish 'riest $urned three %o'ies of her $ook& She $!ames the narrow)mindedness on the !a%k of $ooks in a vi!!a"e that had no !i$rary& She wants her $ooks to "!isten with truth and fee!s ea%h of her $ooks is a run" on a !adder to her ne*t $ook&+isten to the Edna O'Brien interview with Don Swaim, ,--. (/0 min& /0 se%123 Fi!eThese fi!es are for your 'ersona! use on!y&C!assroom use is 'ermitted&4edistri$ution is not 'ermitted&(ownload "ree Real8layer or!earch the Real8layer $rchives for a player that will wor+ with older computers-note; version ?.@ or hiher is re:uired. For many years most of the $est writers of the En"!ish !an"ua"e found their way to Don Swaim's CBS 4adiostudio in 5ew 6ork& Wired for Books is 'roud to we$%ast these interviews in their entirety& about the #ountry 0irls A The 0uardian;http://download.guardian.co.uk/audio/1208187733401/57/gdn.arts.080414.bg.book_club_EdnaOri!n."#3$alking &ith Edna O'ri!nBy JOHN FREEMANSpecial to the Journal SentinelPosted !ept. "#, "$$%&ondon - Edna O'Brien is oin home to Ireland, and she hasn't even beun to pac+ yet. "I'm very sorry," says the novelist, apoloi>in for the lateness of the hour, before usherin me to the upstairs parlor of her !outh Bensinton home.This :uiet, boo+'lined room has been O'Brien's catbird perch for many years now. It is from here that she has viewed her Ireland, her #ounty #lare. "ifteen novels, half a do>en plays and numerous short stories havepoured forth ' all of them about her home country. Advertisement!he 7ust published her 5@th wor+ of fiction, "The &iht ofEvenin," a novel about a famous writer comin home to Ireland toher dyin mother. It is symbolically loaded territory for O'Brien, which e,plains the e,tra nervousness about this recent trip ' especially since it is a boo+ tour."/y mother hated, went to her rave, shoc+ed, outraed, that I was a writer," O'Brien says. "!he saw that I had some ifts. !he resented it and yet wanted us to be bound toether. $nd that's very unnervin."Rather than bury this tension, O'Brien has iven her mother her wish. &oving, yearning lettersIn "The &iht of Evenin" she has ta+en the letters her late mother wrote to her over the course of her life and spliced them almost verbatim into a fictional story, mother and dauhter bound toether indeed.In the novel, CD'year'old (illy oes to the hospital where she learns she has ovarian cancer.Edna O'Brien2hile nurses attend to her, (illy awaits her famous writer dauhter Eleanor's return to Ireland. (illy passes the time reminiscin on her own 7ourney away to $merica in the '5@s, recallin the uilt'inducin letters her own mother wrote to her. The boo+ then 7umps bac+ to Eleanor's rown'up life in &ondon, where she is lonely and homesic+. $t every step of the way, there are letters from mother to dauhter. The boo+ ends with a powerful stream of them. They are lovin, yearnin, accusatory. "I wouldn't want you to deny your mother li+e 8eter who denied #hrist," (illy writes in one daer of uilt. &i+e Eleanor, O'Brien was born in a small, rural #atholic villae in the west of Ireland, the population 7ust 5@@. !he escaped this provincial life by attendin 8harmaceutical #ollee in (ublin, then elopin to &ondon with her husband, the #>ech writer Ernest 0ebler. !he never moved bac+. But her life has hardly "been a romp," as she says.!he divorced 0ebler in )EF* and raised her two children alone. 2hen O'Brien published her first boo+ in )EFF, "The #ountry 0irls," a tale of two irls tryin to escape the strictures of their convent life, it was banned, then publicly burned by her parish priest in Ireland. 6er mother went throuh it and in+ed out offendin words."!he hated the written word," O'Brien says. "The line in the boo+, '8aper never refused in+,'was one of her more caustic lines about my writin.""or all the points of contact between this boo+ and her life, thouh, O'Brien insists this is not a veiled autobioraphy. "This is a version of my life, an imainary version of it. I don't +now anythin about my mother's life in Broo+lyn, all I +now is she wor+ed in $merica as a maid and came home and married somebody in Ireland." Gor is it a settlin of scores. "/y mother was an ama>in, powerful woman," O'Brien says, "but she was also lost."In order to fill in the aps in her story, O'Brien traveled to the =.!. and visited Ellis Island. "I wal+ed up and down streets in Broo+lyn, I too+ that ferry out to the !tatue of &iberty over and over aain," she says, "and then I 7ust ot so despairin. I thouht, 'I don't +now this worldH I don't +now itH'!he was relieved when the Irish'$merican memoirist "ran+ /c#ourt read the manuscript and told her she had ot it riht.&i+e much of O'Brien's fiction ' from "Giht" to "&antern !lides," and "2ild (ecembers" ' this is a boo+ about Ireland's strule to chane and the way that chane is felt by everydaypeople."Everyone who is sensitive," O' Brien says at one point, "is not at first able to ta+e chane. Iremember readin that the first man who held up an umbrella in &ondon was attac+ed. Because they had never seen an umbrella before. !o all chane is frihtenin. $nd to the self it is terrifyin."&i+e /c#ourt, O'Brien has a complicated relationship with Ireland. !he loves the country, but it has not always loved her bac+ so forcefully. 6er first si, boo+s were banned, and her later ones often treated with "e,cessive contempt" by critics, she says.$t one point, she pauses in conversation to show me the 3ames 3oyce medal she finally recently received."There, put that piece of metal around your nec+," she says. I as+ her if she thin+s her reputation has suffered because she is a woman and she does not pause before answerin, "$bsolutely. The hard part about bein a writer in the bi wide world is bein a woman, too, because they don't want or e,pect a woman writer to be in thesame leaue." But this has not stopped O'Brien, the boo+s comin at such reular intervals that she has beun to be rearded as somethin of a force of nature. Bad reviews still hurt, and ood ones cheer, but "I will have the last word," she says./uch of her time is spent in this room, her study, where she wor+s in lonhand, a typist stoppin by when composition has ceased. !he lives so fully in the life of her mind that as the liht fails, she beins to trip down a pathof associations and, mid conversation, :uote at lenth from 3oyce or "aul+ner.'ythological similaritiesIn the past few decades, these two writers have been her adopted ancestors, her imainary countrymen. (urin the conversation, she pauses to read from a letter the venerable 4ale professor and critic 6arold Bloom sent to her about "The &iht of Evenin.""3oyce I thin+ is your mother, in this boo+," he wrote, "and the 3oyce influenced "aul+ner, your father." O'Brien has never been to the deep !outh, but she understands where the mytholoical similarities between her fiction and "aul+ner's come from."In the part of Ireland I come from there are the bi houses, the ruined houses, the blood boilin in the land, the silence underneath which is simmerin so much," she says.!ittin in almost total dar+ness now, O'Brien says if there was one boo+ she would have loved to have written herself, it would be "$s I &ay (yin," "aul+ner's reat novel about the Burden family's tre+ across /ississippi to bury $ddie, wife and mother, in the town of her choice."It's a wonderful boo+, I love it," she says, a reverential hush fallin.&ittle does she +now, she may have 7ust achieved her wish.John Freeman, president of the National Book Critics Circle, lives in Manhattan.boo+ blit>; $ll about fiction.The Mother LoadEdna OBriens dark look at the mother!daughter "ond#By #laire (ederer8osted 2ednesday, Oct. )), 5@@F, at C;5I $/ ET Click here to read more from Slate's Fall Fiction Week.The first )@ paes of The Light of vening too+ me about an hour to read. /y husband moc+ed me from the other couch; "6ave you otten to 8ae * yet9" I'm not the only person who has waded, rather than leapt, into Edna O'Brien. 6er admirersJwho include "ran+ /c#ourt and $lice /unroJure us to o slowly, to savor her writin. It's da>>lin, they say. $lso, radiant. But that's not why it too+ me an hour. It too+ me an hour because I was bored, and it was hard.O'Brien has her own lanuae, stilted and cumbrous when you first encounter it. The novel opens with a crow flyin into the #ounty #lare farmyard of an old woman named (illy /acready; "It ives (illy the shivers, it does, and she storin her precious bits and pieces for safety's sa+e. 2rappin the cut lasses in case her husband, #ornelius, is mad enouh touse them or lay one down before #rotty the wor+man, who'd flin it on a hede or a headland as if it were a billy can." These ouht to be straihtforward sentencesJafter all, the words are familiar and unfancy. But O'Brien has rouped them in a weird bou:uet. I found myself wor+in for meanin. 2ait, who's #rotty, and why's he flinin thins at headlands9 !o it went throuhout those first paes and chapters; O'Brien's sentences, deceptively plain'spo+en, seemed to set me on my ear. I found myself payin attention, somethin I sometimes foret to do as a constant reader.I made my way alon as throuh a thic+et, and the story bean to coalesce; (illy has shinles, and possibly worse. !he's headed for the hospital. 6er husband will stay behind, at their beloved farm, Rusheen. Once in the hospital, she is put in the care of the cruel Gurse "laherty. "3anled now, (illy is thin+in who miht rescue her from there. It cannot be #ornelius, nor (r. "oarty, nor her hard'boiled son, Terence. It has to be Eleanora. !he pictures her beyond in Enland with the shelves of boo+s up to the ceilin and white flowers, usually lilies, in a bi pewter 7u, insouciant, mindless of this plea."Eleanora is her dauhter, a famous writer, who has left Ireland for Enland and left her mother for what (illy sees as a series of odless relationships. 2hile (illy waits for Eleanora, she slips into a reverie, rememberin her own fliht from Ireland when she herself was a irl. /aintainin her offhanded, elliptical tone, O'Brien ives us a meticulously researched, oreously detailed, and at times :uite frihtenin portrait of turn'of'the'century immirant $merica. 6ere I noticed that a chane had come over my readin. It wasn't a miracle, or a door swinin open, or a briht liht shinin down, but I had become absorbed into O'Brien's writin. 6er uncompromisin voice had made me compromise and adapt myself to her cadences and processes. 6ere (illy remembers headin off to catch the ship to $merica; "$bumpy ride over the wintry roads and where brides had collapsed we ot out and wal+ed, then bac+ on aain and the coachmen beltin the two horses with all his miht K " I 7ostledthrouh the sentence with O'Brien, followin her on her difficult, rememberin way. O'Brien uses words as tools for reachin bac+ into the past. It's as thouh she's worried that if she ma+es her sentences too facile, the easy lanuae will supplant her real, idiosyncraticmemories. Once I fitted myself to her, what had seemed a chore turned into both pleasure and necessity; 6er e,cavation of the past became :uietly thrillin. 2hat would she find ne,t9 This :uietude mar+s a chane, or rather a return, for O'Brien, who in the last couple of decades has demonstrated a mar+ed taste for blood. 6er )EEC novel !o"n #$ the %iver shows us a father rapin a dauhter, in lanuae alternatinJe:ually disturbinlyJbetween funny, matter'of'fact, and eerily beautiful. &n the Forest shoc+ed Ireland with its fictionali>ation of a famous )EE* triple murder. The Light of vening is a novel about estranement, horrifyin and e,hilaratin in its own way, but hardly the hellacious stuff she's been wor+in with. The novel recalls instead O'Brien's early #ountry 0irls triloy in its themes of Ireland, home, family, and escape.O'Brien is, in fact, a writer constantly balancin two impulses; the poetic and the sensational. 4ou could also call this the tension between lanuae and plot. It's rare to find a writer who's so consistently interested in both. $nd yet O'Brien seems deeply committed to both e,citement and lyricism. $s a reviewer, I have rown to loathe the word "lyrical." It's a tip'off; $ boo+ blurbed as lyrical is oin to be underplotted, or cheesy, or pretentious,or all of the above. But O'Brien's lyricism is a constant pursuit of beauty and meanin, and it's always travelin up and down a spine of plot.!ometimes this lyricism does et away from her, and she wanders off into the territory of sentimentalism, as when (illy travels across the $tlantic below dec+. "In the evenin the sound of the orchestra drifted down as the first'class passeners danced and sat down to their five'course dinners. Earlier we were allowed up on dec+ to do our own dancin and a fiddler from 0alway played with a usto." I, for one, am a little bored and even annoyed bythis scene1 I've been here before, and it was with &eonardo (i#aprio of all people. But thenO'Brien is off aain, saved by her more brutal impulses as she shifts her attention to the story of a youn mother who has otten rid of her newborn infant. O'Brien writes the +ind of unflinchin novels where babies, not 7ewels, et flun overboard. "or a time, (illy lives an e,ile's life, 7ust as her dauhter does years later. Ireland seems to spit the /acready women out. In Broo+lyn, (illy ets a 7ob, bun+s down with a cousin, becomes a live'in servant for a posh family, ets fired, falls in love, and is betrayed. =nli+e her dauhter, (illy puts her tail between her les and heads bac+ to Ireland. There she falls in love with #ornelius, who loves to drin+ and breed racehorses, both of which prove ruinous for the family. But #ornelius, the husband and father, is hardly important here. It's only mothers and dauhters who count.2hen (illy's memories leave off, the novel brea+s for a lon, disturbin depiction of Eleanora's own marriae to an ascetic #asaubon type named 6ermann. (espite his determination to :uash her morally and emotionally, she becomes a writer, leavin him behind for a literary life in &ondon and affairs sprin+led over the lobe li+e currants on a bun. !ome of this material is clearly autobioraphical; "or many years, O'Brien was hated in Ireland for her fran+ portraits of life there, 7ust as Eleanora is. O'Brien lives in &ondon, as Eleanora does. But this is autobioraphy inverted. The boo+ belons to (illy. Eleanora isimportant and central to this novel insofar as she is important and central to (illy. O'Brien has willed and imained herself into a mother's perspective on what loo+s a lot li+e her ownlife. The very end of the novel is simply a strin of letters that (illy has written to Eleanora overthe years. The letters are by turns hilarious and nain and shamin and smart, and if we had read them at the outset of the novel, we miht have found them too uilt'trippy to bear. But havin lived inside (illy's perspective for the bul+ of the novel, we can see the real emotion buried here, as when (illy sends a ca+e to Eleanora; "L/Ma+e a hole in the top witha +nittin needle and pour a lass of whis+ey into it to +eep it moist." There's a world of denial of her dauhter's real life in (illy's assumption that Eleanora would be in possession of a +nittin needle, let alone bother to apply it to a ca+e. The boo+'s ift is that it is able to reveal this denial as love. In the end, as (illy lies in the hospital, Eleanora fails her mother's love, but somehow her failure seems entirely beside the point. O'Brien redeems Eleanora, and maybe herself, by focusin the novel so entirely on (illy. Turnin away from the lamorous dauhter, who is the more obvious ob7ect of attention, O'Brien loo+s hard at the homely, left'behind mother. The boo+'s attention is a +ind of tribute to motherhood. $t the same time, this is hardly a saccharine affair. Those letters from (illy carry love but also an undeniable chare; I will not be forotten. 4ou will never really et away from me, no matter how far you flee. 2hen I finished the thin, I flipped bac+ to the openin paes. The sentences that had hunme up seemed pac+ed with life and humor; 2hen (illy puts the lasses away "in case her husband, #ornelius, is mad enouh to use them," I could now hear her wry ac+nowledment of the fact that the family never actually drin+s from the ood crystal. Thebrief passae is filled with information; about enteel poverty and about a woman's affable contempt for men in eneral, and her husband in particular, all told from (illy's point of view.O'Brien's lanuae, so troublin at first, seemed to render me useless for other writers, who in comparison come off as both indelicate and afraid. 2here others turn away, O'Brien rushes forward, her +nives drawn for clean parsin of the real feelins that pass between two people. The boo+shops are lousy with mother'dauhter novels. The Light of vening stands apart, refusin to ive mere comfort. O'Brien doesn't 7ust believe in the power of the bond between enerations. !he fears it.O'Brien spo+e recently from &ondon with 'tlantic (n#o)nd's Batie Bolic+.Wild Decembers was inspired by a real story. (ow did the actual event ta)e the shape of fiction in your mind?I learnt of a story wherein man $ shot man B, who had left some farm machinery in man $'s yard. Its presence there became threatenin. The denoument happened after many months of rancor. 2hat I wanted to see unfoldin in Wild !ecem#ers was the proress of the hostilities. I thouht of #aptain $hab in Mo#$ !ick and how for him all enmity, all daner, was embodied in the whale. "or 3oseph, one of the characters in my boo+, the hatred is twofold '' it is about land and about se,. But as with any novel there had to be the twists and turns, friendship, little betrayals leadin to reater ones, and the inevitable clima,.Was it difficult to stay with the story?"indin a story and stayin with it is always the most difficult thin. I pic+ed that story because it corresponded to somethin inside myself. I wouldn't have been able to write it if it hadn't. But I could readily picture the situation of the mountain '' not where the story actually happened, but where I pictured it happenin '' in my mind. I thouht that if alon with the rivalry between the two men I put a woman '' a very shy, but very intense woman '' then there was a scenario that suited me.I hear a lot of stories in Ireland, and I read the newspapers. Emile Nola, 0ustave "laubert, the 0oncourt brothers '' they were always readin the papers, especially the court reports, to find ideas for their wor+. But you have to pic+ a story that fits in with your own inner naw.*ould you tal) about the role of the past in the lives of your characters? 2e are each of us the result of our past. This is not a :uestion of nostalia or loo+in bac+wards, it is the emotional, political, cultural, and spiritual effects on us of both our sub7ective and ancestral e,perience. "or the characters in Wild !ecem#ers the holdin on toland is as vital as the holdin on to life. They are interchaneable. Ireland was con:uered for hundreds of years, and havin been deprived of their lands, and +ic+ed from their small cottaes, people have an inherited fear of bein dispossessed. +he novel,s absence of contemporary references gives it a timeless, almost historical feel. Was this your intent?4es, it is intended to have a timeless feel. I wanted to write a story that involved livin, breathin, contemporary people but at the same time a story that has the permanence of myth. 2illiam "aul+ner is a hero of mine and one of the thins I most love about his fictionis the imbuin of the every day with the lastinness of myth.Edna O'Brien!ome critics have complained that your Ireland is yesterday,s Ireland. What is your response?Those critics who are under the impression that my novels are yesterday's Ireland miht li+e to visit the law courts throuhout the country where land feuds are bein fouht1 or tal+to IR$ prisoners, and e,'prisoners, and follow the heated debate and indoctrination of pro'life roups, both in (ublin and in the country. I did a lot of research for that triloy. I visited people who +ill, solicitors, barristers, lunatics, doctors, psychiatrists '' the whole +aboodle. I spend a lot of time in Ireland and it is really immaterial whether I write my boo+s in #ounty #lare or Oladivosto+.It,s true that your recent trilogy on modern Ireland doesn,t ac)nowledge the country,scurrent economic boom. Why is that? 4es, there is an economic boom, but it is not somethin that I have wished to write about1 indeed it seems to be more the preroative of 7ournalism than imainative fiction. The boom doesn't eliminate the actual stories that have happened. Everyone writes differently. Ta+e three $merican writers '' !inclair &ewis, 3ohn !teinbec+, and 2illiam "aul+ner, let's say. &ewis would have concerned himself with the boom1 !teinbec+ wrote in The *rapes of Wrath about poverty and uprootedness1 and "aul+ner's concerns were the old troubles, as he called them, the boilin blood and the bitter land. It isn't that money isn't important, it's that there is a still more primal theme to be e,plored '' the vaaries of the human heart. I wish I could have written "The 0reat 0atsby of #onnemara," but I couldn't. The landscape is different. I was struc) by a line from a newspaper clipping in Don by the Ri!er that reads, - ... shoc) is palpable as this dar) and terrible story unfolds and has put the hurt into the land itself....- +he idea of the land absorbing a girl,s plight -- I couldn,t see that being written in America. I thin+ in this case one could certainly say that the irl's pliht was felt in the collective psyche of the people. The thin about a small country is that everythin '' for better or for worse '' is made personal. (urin the P case, which !o"n #$ the %iver was triered by, the country was up in arms. 8eople were marchin pro'life and pro'choice to the overnment buildins1 people who +new each other were haranuin each other bitterly. It was as if it was their dauhter who was on trial. 'ary and .reege -- the young heroines of your two most recent novels -- are rendered temporarily mute by their anguish. Why did you decide that they both should lose their voices?The enormity of their respective fates coupled with uilt has rendered them mute. They are afraid. By bein mute they hope that for a time at least their crime will not be made +nown.It seemed to me that their muteness was more helpless than willful/ a remar) on language,s limits. 0r language,s inability, sometimes, to describe personal e1perience.2hen somethin unspea+able happens to someone, especially in a very crushin environment where they're in fear for their lives, the only protection is not to spea+. If you don't spea+ you can't be accused of the crime. It's beyond helplessness, desperation. They see no way out.Anatole .royard wrote, in a 2#3% review of "he #ountry $irls "rilo%y& -4ust as womenused to have hope chests, 5dna 0,.rien has a hopelessness chest, where she treasures up material for her novels. In the early boo)s, the hopelessness is bitter and destructive/ in her middle and late period, it is flailing and ironical.- (ow would you characteri6e this hopelessness now?I disaree about my hopelessness. /y characters are sad at times, bruised and battered by their circumstances, but they do survive and emere stroner. I suppose he miht have said the same about Baf+a's characters, or 0ool's. It is a limitation to confuse the author with the material. But I will o on record as admittin to havin a fairly dar+ sensibility.You have said that your long-ago introduction to 4ames 4oyce,s wor) was nothing short of revelation/ indeed, he has been a great influence to you throughout your writing career. In your recent Penguin &ives biography of him you pay homage to this influence. What was it li)e to delve so deeply into the source of your inspiration? 7id it change your relationship with 4oyce?To live with the wor+ and the letters of 3ames 3oyce was an enormous privilee and a dauntin education. 4es, I came to admire 3oyce even more because he never ceased wor+in, those words and the transubstantiation of words obsessed him. 6e was a bro+en man at the end of his life, unaware that (l$sses would be the number one boo+ of the twentieth century and, for that matter, the twenty'first.In the biography you made mention of, but did not e1plore, -Writers and their mothers -- the uncharted deep.- *ould you e1pand on that here?I thin+ it is too vast a sub7ect to e,plore. One could write a whole essay about it. Two e,amples of artists who had a profound symbiosis with their mothers are 3oyce and 8roust. 2hen 3oyce's mother appeared in his fiction it was always in an ashen and punitive disuise. "2ith thy bitter mil+ thou has suc+led me," !tephen (edalus says, in ' +ortrait of the 'rtist 's a ,o)ng Man. 8roust was different '' a little more lovin, perhaps, than 3oyce. /y own mother has had a profound effect on me as a writer. 8or a long while your fiction drew upon the personal e1periences of women. Your recent trilogy has as its sources broader social concerns -- the I9A, abortion laws, landownership. What accounts for this shift?$ writer's 7ourney is a raph. I started with the thins I +new '' convent irls, family, etc. '' but as I became a little more confident I applied myself to venturin into the outer world and, I hope, interatin it with a correspondin inner world. I was iven enormous help by friends and ac:uaintances in Ireland for my researches. But the imainative thrust has to come from inside oneself and this is as much a mystery to me as it miht be to anyone else. 2riters are driven by their unconscious. It is as unpredictable as dreamin.0ver time your sentences have become more lyrical, your descriptions more lush. (owhas this come about?4es, some descriptions are more lyrical but that is at iven moments and for a particular reason. The proloue to !o"n #$ the %iver, which some pusilanimous Enlish critics too+ e,ception to, was deliberate. I wanted nature to be burstin forth, to be ivin birth in orderto foreshadow what would happen to that youn child.:ow that you,ve closed a trilogy, what comes ne1t?I wish I +newFriday, 21 June, 2002, 14:35 GMT 15:35 UK Irish author defends murderous taleO'Brien described by friends as "ferociously" intellientIrish author Edna O!rien has ne"er #een one to shy a$ay %ro& 'ontro"ersy( )riti's ha"e re%erred to her as *one o% the +reatest $riters in the En+,ish s-ea.in+ $or,d*, #ut in her ho&e 'ountry Edna O!riens #oo.s $ere #anned %or &any years( !ut no$ her use o% rea,/,i%e &urders in her ,atest no"e, has ta.en her trou#,ed re,ationshi- $ith her ho&e,and into ne$ rea,&s o% 'ontro"ersy( 0o&e ha"e a''used her o% ha"in+ e1-,oited a -ri"ate tra+edy( !ut she to,d !!) 2or,d 0er"i'es Meridian Master-ie'e -ro+ra&&e: *This $as the &ost -u#,i' 'ase e"er to ta.e -,a'e in Ire,and( I $rote it out o% a dee- syioti' %ee,in+ and identi3'ation %or those dead -eo-,e, not as a -ie'e o% -rurien'e(* Shocked In The Forest has #een atta'.ed %or e1-,oitin+ a rea, &urder 'ase that too. -,a'e ei+ht years a+o in rura, Ire,and, near to $here O!rien +re$ u-( The story &irrors the .i,,in+s o% I&e,da 4iney, her three/year/o,d son 5ia& and ,o'a, -riest, Father Jose-h 2a,sh, $hose #odies $ere %ound a#andoned in a $ood( !rendan O6onne,, $as %ound +ui,ty o% the tri-,e/&urders and,ater 'o&&itted sui'ide $hi,st ser"in+ a ,i%e senten'e in -rison(),ai&in+ that *the de'ision to +o into this #oo. $asnt #,ithe,yunderta.en*, O!rien has de%ended her de'ision to 3'tiona,isethe 'ase( *2ritin+ is a,$ays a "ery se'ret a't,* she said( *I% I $ere to thin. o% $hat others $ou,d thin. o% the #oo. that $ou,d -ara,yse &e( 2henthe ru&-us 'o&es I a& a,$ays sho'.ed(* Fraught Thorou+h,y resear'hin+ her 'hara'ters, O!rien to,d ho$ she too. to $a,.in+ in the "eryarea $here the rea, 'ri&e had ta.en -,a'e( 0he to,d o% the di7'u,ty o% i&a+inin+ the &ind o% a &urderer, #ut e1-,ained that it $as essentia, i% the story $as to #e a''urate( *This is &y $ay o% ,i"in+,* she e1-,ained( *Its not easy as its &enta,,y and e&otiona,,y unner"in+ a,, the ti&e, #ut it .ee-s &e +oin+(* O!rien 3rst %ound ,iterary su''ess in the 1890s $ith The )ountry Gir,s, a no"e, a#out teena+ers ,ea"in+ rura, "i,,a+es %or the $i'.edness o% 6u#,in and 5ondon( Fro& the start o% her 'areer, her %ran.ness a#out se1 and her ',ear/eyed -ortraya, o% the dar.er, &ore #i+oted sides o% Irish ,i%e &ade her re,ationshi- $ith her ho&e,and %rau+ht( 6e%endin+ her ,atest 'hoi'e o% su#:e't &atter she said, *e"ery #oo. has to #e dee-er*( *I 'ou,dnt ha"e $ritten that story un,ess it tri++ered %ears, in'ar'eration, -unish&ents and &ay#e $orse inside &yse,%(* Meridian Masterpiece is broadcast on BBC World Service at 2205 GMT on Sunday. In the 8orestIn the Forest ;Edited hi+h,i+hts o% the -ane,s re"ie$< Watch the whole programme - 2" April "$$" /urder she wroteKIRSTY WARK: Is the ,e+iti&ate ro,e o% a no"e,ist to ta.e a rea, e"ent and 3'tiona,ise it= JEANETTE WINTERSON:The 20th 'entury has #een the 'entury a,, the ordinary 'ate+ories ha"e #een #ro.en do$n, #et$een 3'tion and non/3'tion, #et$een the rea, and the i&a+ined, #et$een auto#io+ra-hy and in"ention( 2oo,% and Joy'e started it, and e"ery +ood $riter has $or.ed $ith it sin'e( Edna O!riensu''eeds here -er%e't,y( Its no ,on+er the ,itt,e ,i%e &an+,ed and ,ost( It #e'o&es i'oni',a s-a'e $here $e 'an a,, -ut our +rie%s, our %ears and ho-es( 0hes ri+ht, Ire,and needs to %o'us on these thin+s, needs to dis'uss these thin+s( There&ust #e no hidden -,a'es( KIRSTY WARK: OKane in the no"e,, $as at the &er'y o% -aedo-hi,e -riests $hen he $as youn+, thats a terri#,y 'urrent story in Ire,and( JEANETTE WINTERSON:0hes #een a''used o% doin+ this in order to se,, #oo.s( Thats >uite $ron+( Edna O!rien is %ar #eyond that .ind o% $ritin+( 0hes an e1tre&e,y +ood $riter, and $e o$e her a +reat de#t( I thin. this is a "ery +ood #oo.( KIRSTY WARK: 6o you, Mar. Ker&ode, thin. that true 'ri&e 3'tion is a +enre on its o$n= MARK KERMODE:)reati"e $ritin+ a#out true 'ri&e 'an #e "ery insi+ht%u,( E&,yn 2i,,ia&s !eyond !e,ie%,in $hi'h he i&a+ines the Moors &urderers, and +ets into, I thin., the &ind o% ?ind,ey( My -ro#,e& $ith In The Forest is its a #oo. sear'hin+ %or its "oi'e %or at ,east the 3rst @0 -a+es, -art,y #e'ause shes so $orried a#out ha"in+ to :usti%y $ritin+ a#out this su#:e't( 0udden,y, $hen $e +et into the 'entra, 'ha-ter $here the a$%u, thin+ ha--ens, its a,&ost as i% she #e'o&es -ossessed #y the story( I thin. the %a,se note in this, theres an authors note at the #a'. $hi'h e1-,ains the 'onne'tion to the rea, 'ase( I 'ant understand $hy she hasnt done, %or e1a&-,e, $hat Aat !ar.er did $ith !,o$ Bour house 6o$n( It is a #oo. a#out the Bor.shire 4i--er, #ut s-e'i3'a,,y not set in !rad%ord, s-e'i3'a,,y distan'ed( Its ta.in+ the su#:e't, #ut 3'tiona,isin+ it and -uttin+ it so&e$here e,se( I% youre +oin+ to $rite it in this $ay, $hy s-e'i3'a,,y re%er it to that 'ase= EKOW ESHN:I& a,, %or her $ritin+ a#out rea, ,i%e e"ents( I thin., ho$e"er, #oth o% you are -retty +enerous $ith the >ua,ity o% the #oo. in itse,%( The -rose throu+hout the #oo. is -ur-,e and Corid, it +i"es $ay to this +othi' ro&anti'is& at "arious &o&ents( 0he 'ant +et inside the &ind o% the &urderer OKane, to$ards the end hes runnin+ round, >uotin+ ,ines %ro& Ja&es )a+ney, as i% a 18 year/o,d &urderer at the end o% the 20th 'entury is +oin+ to #e re%eren'in+ #,a'. and $hite &o"ies %ro& the 3rst ha,% o% the'entury( The Irishness she des'ri#es is sun. in this $eird rura, -astora,is&, $here -eo-,e ran around na.ed and -,ayed -an -i-es and ,utes( KIRSTY WARK: I thin. shes re%errin+ to the De$ E+ers that 'a&e in to the 'o&&unity( EKOW ESHN:The $ho,e thin+ has this ro&anti'is& $hi'h #orders on #ad taste, +i"en the su#:e't &atter thats in"o,"ed here( JEANETTE WINTERSON:I dont thin. its #ad taste( 0hes Irish, -assionate, 'o&&itted, shes in"o,"ed in her su#:e't( 0he 'ant distan'e herse,% %ro& it( 2e &ay 'riti'ise that 'hoi'e, #ut thats not the .ind o% $riter she is( 0hes either in there or shes not( I thin. in this #oo., she is( EKOW ESHN:I dont thin. shes +ot in there enou+h( I dont #uy her ta.e on ho$ OKane, the &urderer, has de"e,o-ed as she is( I dont hear his "oi'e throu+h her $ords( I% youre rea,,y dea,in+ $ith the &ind o% a -sy'ho-ath, si&-,y the %a't that hes #een a#used or $hate"er doesnt ne'essari,y e1-,ain thin+s( JEANETTE WINTERSON:2hat interests &e is $hether or not this ,i%ts the $ho,e su#:e't &atter into a 'o&-,ete,y diFerent area( I thin. thats $here she su''eeds( In 50 years no#ody $i,, 'are a#out the rea,/,i%e story, they,, 'are a#out the #oo.( That $i,, sti,, $or.( Edna OBrien$ Irelands Other Literary %ea&y'eight(uthor's li)! has inspir!d co*parisons to h!r no+!ls' passionat! prot!g,!s.y 4im 9ulandPublished on 4une 2#, "$$3+his is the wee) of .loomsday -3une )F., the day on which 3ames 3oyce's (l$sses is celebrated with scholarly symposia, cultural atherins and an effusion of finer wavin from academics who admonish us for not havin enriched our meaer minds with the master's difficult but incandescent prose. Balderdash. This summer, instead of sloin throuh all 5?@,@@@ words of (l$sses -as well as the shelf'crac+in row of boo+s you'll need to decipher it., read Ireland's other modernist prose stylist and enius storyteller; EdnaO'Brien. The author of more than 5@ novels, short stories and plays for stae and screen, O'Brien hashad a prolific career spannin nearly ?@ years. !he has been described as possessin "the soul of /olly Bloom and the s+ills of Oirinia 2oolf," and heralded as "the most ifted woman now writin fiction in Enlish" by none other than 8hilip Roth. !he has received countless accolades, yet remains one of Ireland's most misunderstood writers. !hortly after the release of her critical study of 3ames 3oyce in )EEE, one reviewer sniffed, "$ll Edna O'Brien's effort proves is that lihtweiht novelists should stic+ to what they do best."O'Brien's relationship with Ireland has always been a cantan+erous one. 6er first novel, The Co)ntr$ *irls, written in )E?E durin a three'wee+ fren>y, was condemned by the minister of culture as a "smear on Irish womanhood." The boo+, which deals with the se,ual awa+enin of a youn woman from a small villae in west Ireland, was promptly banned. $s were her ne,t eightnovels.The problem9 O'Brien writes about se, and its repercussions in a way that is raphic, fran+ and utterly unheard of in conservative, "priest'plaued" Ireland. 6er first three novels follow the adventures of #aithleen and Baba as they flee their convent school in rural Ireland, find considerably older husbands in (ublin, and confront their failed marriaes in &ondon. $lon the way, the irls conceive out of wedloc+, have e,tramarital affairs and contract venereal disease. In O'Brien's villae in #ounty #lare, copies of her boo+ that had been smuled past the censors were burned in the town s:uare.2hat fueled the ire of O'Brien's critics was that she herself was a youn adventuress from the west, who fled !carriff and its "five streetlamps," married the writer Ernest 0ebler and escaped to &ondon. 6er husband's counterpart in the triloy is Euene 0aillard, and his final messae to #aithleen is, "Old men and youn irls are all riht in boo+s but not anywhere else." O'Brien's marriae to 0ebler was dissolved in )EF*. (raw your own conclusions.8etrol'pac+in priests weren't the only ones to conflate the narrator with the author. Because of their autobioraphical underpinnins, critics and reviewers were :uic+ to associate O'Brien with the wild Irish colleens of her novels. 6er ood loo+s encouraed these stereotypical assessments. $s recently as )EE*, a reviewer saw fit to mention her "flame'red hair, mil+y s+in and mesmeri>in reen'flec+ed eyes." O'Brien's eyes are blue, but after the film version of The Lonel$ *irl was released as *irl With *reen $es, audiences were increasinly unable ande the audience. "irst and foremost, Edna's style has never been as refined, and we read her boo+s for the stories and atmosphere as much as for her style. It's also a ood choice from yet another point of view. $s I have already mentioned, the contents of her wor+s are not for the fainthearted and delicate J almost always bein beautiful, yet nerve'shatterin. "or all these reasons I miht say that if In the "orest does not seem compellin to you, none other will. "inally, an e:ually ood idea is to play the chronoloical ame, and attempt to observe howEdna's style evolved over time. The #ountry 0irls Triloy with an Epiloueshould be an e,cellent choice then, bein still in print on three continents, often in a nice volume of collected wor+s.2hichever way you choose, I hope you will not reret. I have not.further readinQThe $ssociate !ite of Themis $thena presents an author pae of Edna O'Brien. En7oyHQThe entry in an e,cellent "innish online encyclopedia of authors; 'Edna O'Brien'Q6ouhton /ifflin Reader's 0uide; '2ild (ecembers', includin an interview with Edna O'Brien boo+ reviewsIn order to browse other boo+ reviews, use the biblioraphy, or follow the list below;Q$uust Is a 2ic+ed /onthQ#asualties of 8eaceQThe #ountry 0irlsQ0irls in Their /arried BlissQ6ouse of !plendid IsolationQIn the "orestQ3ames 3oyce; a BioraphyQThe &onely 0irlQ/other IrelandQGihtQ$ 8aan 8laceQThe RescueQTime and TideQ2ild (ecembersthere and bac+ aain ).home 5.author inde, I.title inde, *.publishersauthor metadata ).photoraph 5.)EI5'novels ).L5@@FM The &iht of Evenin 5.L5@@5M In the "orest I.L)EEEM 2ild (ecembers *.L)EEFM (own by the River ?.L)EE*M 6ouse of !plendid Isolation F.L)EE5M Time and Tide C.L)EDDM The 6ih Road D.L)ECCM 3ohnny I 6ardly Bnew 4ou E.L)EC5M Giht)@.L)EC@M $ 8aan 8lace)).L)EFFM #asualties of 8eace)5.L)EF?M $uust Is a 2ic+ed /onth)I.L)EFIM 0irls in Their /arried Bliss)*.L)EF5M The &onely 0irl)?.L)EF@M The #ountry 0irlsshort story collections ).L)EEDM Irish Revel 5.L)EE@M &antern !lides; !tories I.L)ED*M "anatic 6eart; !elected !tories of Edna O'Brien *.L)ED5M Returnin; Tales ?.L)ECDM $ Rose in the 6eart; &ove !tories by Edna O'Brien -also published as /rs. Reinhardt and Other !tories. F.L)EC5M $ !candalous 2oman and Other !tories C.L)EFDM The &ove Ob7ectmemoirs ).L)ECFM /other Ireland boo+s for children ).L)EDFM Tales for the Tellin; Irish "ol+ % "airy !tories 5.L)EDIM The Rescue I.L)ED5M $ #hristmas Treat *.L)ED)M The (a>>le8lays < !creenplays ).L5@@*M Triptych 5.L5@@IM Iphienia I.L)ED5M &ove *.L)ED)M Oirinia ?.L)EC*M $ 8aan 8lace; a 8lay F.L)EC)M Nee % #o. C.L)EFEM Three Into Two 2on't 0o D.L)EF?M Beys of the #afe E.L)EF?M I 2as 6appy 6erepoetry ).L)EDEM On the Bone; a 8oemnonfiction ).L)EEEM 3ames 3oyce; $ Bioraphy 5.L)ED)M 3ames and Gora; $ 8ortrait of 3oyce's /arriaee,periments ).L)ECEM !ome Irish &ovin; $ !electionhode'pode ).L)EE*M $n Edna O'Brien Reader L$uust Is a 2ic+ed /onth, #asualties of 8eace, 3ohnny I 6ardly Bnew 4ouM 5.L)ECDM #ollector's #hoice L)@@Dp. C novels R 5 collections of short storiesM8refaces ).L)EEEM Irish 2omen's &etters Led. by &aurence "lanaanM 5.L)EEDM Irish (reams L8hotoraphy $lbum by !teven RothfeldM I.L)EDFM Oanishin Ireland L8hotoraphy $lbum by Richard "it>eraldM *.L)ECDM $rabian Gihts L8hotoraphy $lbum by 0erard Bli7nMon O'Brien ).L5@@FM 2ild #olonial 0irl; Essays on Edna O'Brien by &isa #olletta and /aureen O'#onnor -Eds. 5.L5@@IM Edna O'Brien -2riters and Their 2or+. by $manda 0reenwoodhttp; 's a "riter, ho" m)ch or ho" little do $o)o"e to the primitive r)ral "orld $o) often descri#e in stories a#o)t the &reland of $o)r childhood> There's no tellin, really. If I had rown up on the steppes of Russia, or in Broo+lyn ' my parents lived there when they were first married ' my material would have been different but my apprehension miht be 7ust the same. I happened to row up in a country that was and is breathlessly beautiful so the feelin for nature, for verdure and for the soil was instilled into me. !econdly, there was no truc+ with culture or literature so that my lonin to write, sprun up of its own accord, was spontaneous. The only boo+s in our house were prayer boo+s, coo+ery boo+s and blood'stoc+ reports. I was privy to the world around me, was aware of everyone's little history, the stuff from which stories and novels are made. On the personal level, it was pretty drastic. !o all these thins combined to ma+e me what I am.B)t are $o) s)rprised that $o) s)rvived the isolated farm and the violent father and the provincial convent "itho)t having lost the freedom of mind to #e able to "rite> I am surprised by my own sturdiness ' yes1 but I do not thin+ that I am unscarred. !uch thins as drivin a car or swimmin are :uite beyond me. In a lot of ways I feel a cripple. The body was as sacred as a tabernacle and everythin a potential occasion of sin. It is funny now, but not that funny ' the body contains the life story 7ust as much as the brain. I console myself by thin+in that if one part is destroyed another flourishes. Was there eno)gh mone$ aro)nd "hen $o) "ere gro"ing )p> Go ' but there had beenH /y father li+ed horses and li+ed leisure. 6e inherited a reat deal of land and a beautiful stone house but he was profliate and the land ot iven away or s:uandered in archetypal Irish fashion. #ousins who came home from $merica brouht us clothes and I inherited from my mother a certain childish pleasure in these thins. Our reatest e,citement was these visits, these ifts of trin+ets and thins, these sinals of an outside, cosmopolitan world, a world I loned to enter. &'m str)ck, partic)larl$ in the stories of r)ral &reland d)ring the "ar $ears, #$ the vastness and precision of $o)r po"ers of recall. ,o) seem to remem#er the shape, te;t)re, color and dimensions of ever$ o#@ect $o)r e$e ma$ have landed )pon "hile $o) "ere gro"ing )p ? not to mention the h)man significance of all $o) sa", heard, smelled, tasted and to)ched. The res)lt is prose like a piece of fine mesh"ork, a net of perfectl$ o#served sens)o)s details that ena#les $o) to contain all the longing and pain and remorse that s)rge thro)gh the fiction. What & "ant to ask is ho" $o) acco)nt for this a#ilit$ to reconstr)ct "ith s)ch passionate e;actness an &rish "orld $o) haven't f)ll$ lived in for decades> -o" does $o)r memor$ keep it alive, and "h$ "on't this vanished "orld leave $o) alone> $t certain times I am suc+ed bac+ there and the ordinary world and the present time recede.This recollection, or whatever it is, invades me. It is not somethin that I can summon up, itsimply comes and I am the servant of it. /y hand does the wor+ and I don't have to thin+1 in fact, were I to thin+ it would stop the flow. It's li+e a dam in the brain that bursts. !o $o) visit &reland to help this recall along> 2hen I visit Ireland, I always secretly hope that somethin will spar+ off the hidden world and the hidden stories waitin to be released, but it doesn't happen li+e thatH It happens, as you well +now, much more convolutedly, throuh one's dreams, throuh chance and, in my case, throuh the welter of emotion stimulated by a love affair and its aftermath. & "onder if $o) haven't chosen the "a$ $o) live ? living #$ $o)rself ? to prevent an$thing emotionall$ too po"erf)l from separating $o) from that past. I'm sure I have. I rail aainst my loneliness but it is as dear to me as the thouht of unity with a man. I have often said that I would li+e to divide my life into alternatin periods of penance, cavortin and wor+, but as you can see that would not strictly fit in with a conventional married life. Most 'merican "riters & kno" "o)ld #e greatl$ )nnerved #$ the prospect of living a"a$ from the co)ntr$ that's their s)#@ect and the so)rce of their lang)age and o#sessions. Man$astern )ropean "riters & kno" remain #ehind the &ron C)rtain #eca)se the hardships of totalitarianism seem prefera#le to the dangers, for a "riter, of e;ile. &f ever there "as a case for a "riter sta$ing "ithin earshot of the old neigh#orhood, it's #een provided #$ t"o 21th?cent)r$ 'mericans, Fa)lkner, "ho settled #ack in Mississippi after a #rief period a#road, and Bello", "ho after his "anderings ret)rned to live and teach in Chicago. No" "e all kno" that neither Beckett nor Jo$ce seemed to "ant or to need a #ase in &reland, once the$ #egan e;perimenting "ith their &rish endo"ment ? #)t do you ever feel that leaving &reland as a ver$ $o)ng "oman and coming to London to make a life has cost $o) an$thing as a "riter> &sn't there an &reland other than the &reland of $o)r $o)th that might have #een t)rned to $o)r p)rposes> To establish oneself in a particular place and to use it as the locale for fiction is both a strenth to the writer and a sinpost to the reader. But you have to o if you find your roots too threatenin, too impinin. 3oyce said that Ireland is the sow that eats its farrow ' he was referrin to their attitude to their writers, they savae them. It is no accident that our two reatest illustrati ' himself and /r. Bec+ett ' left and stayed away, thouh they never lost their particular Irish consciousness. In my own case, I do not thin+ that I would have written anythin if I had stayed. I feel I would have been watched, would have been 7uded -even moreH. and would have lost that priceless commodity called freedom. 2riters are always on the run and I was on the run from many thins. 4es, I dispossessed myself and I am sure that I lost somethin, lost the continuity, lost the day'to'day contact with reality. 6owever, compared with Eastern European writers, I have the advantae that I can always o bac+. "or them it must be terrible, the finality of it, the utter banishment, li+e a soul shut out of heaven. Will $o) go #ack> Intermittently. Ireland is very different now, a much more secular land, where, ironically, both the love of literature and the repudiation of literature are on the wane. Ireland is becomin as materialistic and as callow as the rest of the world. 4eats's line ' ''Romantic Ireland's dead and one'' ' has indeed come to fruition. &n m$ fore"ord to $o)r ne" #ook, ''' Fanatic -eart,'' & In the constellation of eniuses, he is a blindin liht and father of us all. -I e,clude !ha+espeare because for !ha+espeare no human epithet is enouh.. 2hen I first read 3oyce,it was a little boo+ edited by T. !. Eliot which I bouht on the :uays in (ublin, second'hand, for fourpence. Before that, I had read very few boo+s and they were mostly ushin and outlandish. I was a pharmaceutical apprentice who dreamed of writin. Gow here was ''The (ead'' and a section of ''$ 8ortrait of the $rtist as a 4oun /an'' which stunned me not only by the bewitchment of style but because they were so true to life, they "ere life. Then, or rather later, I came to read ''=lysses,'' but as a youn irl I bal+ed, because it was really too much for me, it was too inaccessible and too masculine, apart from the famous /olly Bloom section. I now thin+ ''=lysses'' is the most divertin, brilliant, intricate and unborin boo+ that I have ever read. I can pic+ it up at any time, read a few paes and feel that I have 7ust had a brain transfusion. $s for his bein intimidatin, it doesn't arise ' he is simply out of bounds, beyond us all, ''the far $>ores,'' as he miht call it. Let's go #ack to the "orld of Nora Barnacle, to ho" the "orld looks to the Nora Barnacles,those "ho remain in &reland and those "ho take flight. 't the center of virt)all$ all $o)r stories is a "oman, generall$ a "oman on her o"n, #attling isolation and loneliness, or seeking love, or recoiling from the s)rprises of advent)ring among men. ,o) "rite a#o)t "omen "itho)t a taint of ideolog$, or, as far as & can see, an$ concern "ith taking a correctposition. The correct position is to write the truth, to write what one feels reardless of any public consideration or any cli:ue. I thin+ an artist never ta+es a position either throuh e,pediency or umbrae. $rtists detest and suspect positions because they +now that the minute you ta+e a fi,ed position you are somethin else, you are a 7ournalist or you are a politician. 2hat I am after is a bit of maic and I do not want to write tracts or to read them. I have depicted women in lonely, desperate and often humiliated situations, very often the butt of men and almost always searchin for an emotional catharsis that does not come. This is my territory and one that I +now from hard'earned e,perience. If you want to +now what I reard as the principal cru, of female despair, it is this; in the 0ree+ myth of Oedipus and in "reud's e,ploration of it, the son's desire for his mother is admitted1 the infant dauhter also desires its mother but it is unthin+able, either in myth, in fantasy or in fact, that that desire can be consummated. ,et $o) can't #e o#livio)s to the changes in conscio)sness that have #een occasioned #$ the"omen's movement. 4es, certain thins have been chaned for the better, women are not chattels, they e,press their riht to earn as much as men, to be respected, not to be ''The !econd !e,,'' but in the matin area thins have not chaned. $ttraction and se,ual love are spurred not by consciousness but by instinct and passion, and in this men and women are radically different. The man still has the reater authority and the reater autonomy. It's bioloical. The woman's fate is to receive the sperm and to retain it, but the man's is to ive it and in the ivin he spends himself and then subse:uently withdraws. 2hile she is in a sense bein fed, he is in the opposite sense bein drained, and to resuscitate himself he ta+es temporary fliht. $s a result, you et the woman's resentment at bein abandoned, however briefly, his uilt at oin and, above all, his innate sense of self'protection in order to re'find himself so as to reaffirm himself. #loseness is therefore always only relative. $ man may help with the dishes and so forth but his commitment is more ambiuous and he has a rovin eye. 're there no "omen as promisc)o)s> They sometimes are but it doesn't ive them the same sense of achievement. $ woman, I dare to say, is capable of a deeper and more lastin love. I would also add that a woman is more afraid of bein left. That still stands. 0o into any woman's canteen, dress department, hairdresser's, ymnasium and you will see plenty of desperation and plenty of competition. 8eople utter a lot of sloans but they are only sloans and what we feel and do is what determines us. 2omen are no more secure in their emotions than they ever were. They simply are better at comin to terms with them. The only real security would be to turn away from men, to detach, but that would be a little death ' at least, for me it would. Wh$ do $o) "rite so man$ love stories> &s it #eca)se of the importance of the s)#@ect, or #eca)se, once $o) gre" )p and left &reland and chose the solitar$ life of a "riter, se;)al love inevita#l$ #ecame the strongest sphere of e;perience to "hich $o) contin)ed to have access> "irst of all, I thin+ love replaced reliion for me in my sense of fervor. 2hen I bean to loo+ for earthly love -i.e., se,., I felt that I was cuttin myself off from 0od. By ta+in on the mantle of reliion, se, assumed proportions that are rather far'fetched. It became the central thin in my life, the oal. I was very prone to the 6eathcliff, /r. Rochester syndrome and still am. The se,ual e,citement was to a reat e,tent lin+ed with pain and separation. /y se,ual life is pivotal to me as I believe it is for everyone else. It ta+es up a lot of time both in the thin+in and the doin, the former often ta+in pride of place. "or me, primarily, it is secretive and contains elements of mystery and plunder. /y daily life and my se,ual life are not of a whole ' they are separated. 8art of my Irish heritaeH What's most diffic)lt a#o)t #eing #oth a "oman and a "riter> !o $o) think there are diffic)lties $o) have "riting as a "oman that & don't have as a man ? and do $o) imagine that there might #e diffic)lties & have that $o) don't> I thin+ it is different bein a man and a woman, it is very different . I thin+ you as a man have waitin for you in the wins of the world a whole cortee of women ' potential wives,mistresses, muses, nurses. 2omen writers do not have that bonus. The e,amples are numerous, the Bront"e sisters, 3ane $usten, #arson /c#ullers, "lannery O'#onnor, Emily (ic+inson, /arina Tsvetayeva . I thin+ it was (ashiell 6ammett who said he wouldn't wantto live with a woman who had more problems than himself. I thin+ the sinals men et from me alarm them. ,o) "ill have to find a Leonard Woolf. I do not want a &eonard 2oolf. I want &ord Byron and &eonard 2oolf mi,ed in toether. B)t does the @o# f)ndamentall$ come do"n to the same diffic)lties then, regardless of gender> $bsolutely. There is no difference at all, you, li+e me, are tryin to ma+e somethin out of nothin and the an,iety is e,treme. "laubert's description of his room echoin with curses and cries of distress could be any writer's room. 4et I doubt that we would welcome an alternative life, there is somethin stoical about soldierin on all alone.B http;e for economics -5@@@. for his contribution to research in economics and humanbehaviour. 6is wor+ deals with such issues as evaluation of social prorams, econometric models of discrete choice and lonitudinal data, the economics of the labour mar+et, and alternative models of the distribution of income. 8rofessor 6ec+man is also =#( 8rofessor of !cience and !ociety, a 7oint initiative between the =#( 0eary Institute and =#( #onway Institute.http;