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Author Mark Haddon: “Bodies are such a good source of drama” | Mark Haddon


Author Mark Haddon: “Bodies are such a good source of drama” | Mark Haddon

Mark Haddon, 61, was born in Northampton and lives in Oxford. Between 1987 and 2002 he published more than a dozen children’s books, including Agent Z series, before his multimillion-dollar success with The Curious World of Christopher BooneLonglisted for the Booker in 2003. His later books include the story collection The pier fallsdescribed by the Evening Standard as “almost hellishly morbid … as if Ian McEwan had never become nice” and The porpoise (2019), which was nominated for the Goldsmiths Prize for Experimental Fiction. The protagonists of his new collection of stories, Dogs and Monstersincluding a Roman saint, the mother of a Minotaur, and a woman who escaped from a shady biotechnology facility.

How was this collection put together?
Slowly and piecemeal. I had bypass surgery (2019), then brain fog, then Long Covid, which I think I’m slowly getting over. Some of the stories were written in windows in the fog, some before that. I like the idea of ​​a 19th century short story where you just cram everything in, a contrast to the Carveresque short story, which has become a kind of orthodox model and often feels like a snippet of a larger narrative. So I tend to think in big arcs – a real beginning, middle and end – but since then I’ve had to learn to write differently, building tiny pieces in the dark without thinking about larger structures. This was the last set of big arcs!

What inspires you to write stories with so much action?
One difference between what could loosely be called literary fiction and genre literature is a kind of decent avoidance of overdramatics. I always think of the sex scene in The Well of Loneliness: “And that night they did not part.” Come on! Let’s see what happens! Or Hilary Mantel’s story, The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher, which really takes off at the end. In genre novels – horror, police novels, whatever – the story would start there, wouldn’t it? Keep the camera rolling. You’re coming to the end of Claire Keegan’s Little things like this and think the drama is about to begin: Now the real difficulties will arise; Now you have a family.

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Why do you like to tell old stories from new perspectives?
I like to look for the gaps in myths and legends, the parts we don’t see, the viewpoints of people who don’t have power. Unless you go back and read One Thousand and One NightsYou have this childish image of the power of stories to save this woman’s life. But the real framework is that she is still raped every night, and that fact was completely cut out of the cleaned-up version that we have.

Her own fiction does not skimp on gruesome details…
I am a long-time fan of 24 hours in the emergency room. I’m completely fascinated by how bodies work and how they don’t, how they function as both vehicles and prisons. When I read novels that are disembodied, where people are voices interacting with each other, I find it strange; bodies are such a good source of drama.

Power systems are a recurring theme: Why?
Partly because I was sent to a school like in My Old School (a story from the book). I find I find it really hard to join organizations whose rules I have to follow. I am always aware of who suffers under these systems. If you see me in everyday life, I seem like some kind of rule-abiding bourgeois cartoon, but deep down I am a disguised, rebellious radical. I am a real bandwagon opponent.

Have you always wanted to write about boarding schools?
No, quite the opposite. I know many stories from that time, but public school students have been the focus of attention for too long in one way or another. We must not heard about it. But as time went on, I felt that if I didn’t do it now, I would die before I could write it! It is an everlasting story about loyalty and cruelty. Robert Musil’s The confusions of young Törless (1906), about a brutal military academy; I can’t remember anything about it except reading it and thinking, my God, that sounds like my school.

Was there ever a point where you felt like writing novels was a way for you to process your experiences?
I never thought that writing was a way to make sense of my life. Writing is more of a service to the reader: It’s not about you.

Do you have this feeling because you originally wrote for children?
I think that would have been the case anyway, but writing for children reminds us that we cannot be left to ourselves for a moment. We are talking to a person: we could lose them at any moment if we do not try hard enough to hold their attention sentence by sentence.

Tell us what you have enjoyed reading recently.
Agustina Bazterricas The meat is tendera cannibalism novel from Argentina: absolutely disgusting, absolutely captivating. And Daniel Defoe’s A diary from the year of the plague. An astonishing passage describing “a nasty tendency of the infected to infect others” reads like the recipe for every zombie movie, game and series. I love the prose of that time: sentences like “all the floodgates of general charity were now closed.” I underlined something on every page. I did the same with Olga Ravns The employeesthat I’m just starting to read again. Too many science fiction novels I read are overwhelmed by explanations. I really love coming across a book that is brave enough to treat you like you live in that world and don’t have to explain anything.

What did you read as a child?
Scientific encyclopedias! I love those encyclopedias from the late 60s and early 70s: the poor print quality, the fonts, the fact that some facts are now slightly wrong.

Do you still have any of these?
Oh yes. I’m embarrassed to say that I got quite a few of them as prizes. I was a little nerd. The most important book I had as a child was called Origins of the Universe by Albert Hinkelbein – the Headmaster’s Award of Duston Eldean Junior School in 1972.

Dogs and Monsters by Mark Haddon will be published on August 29th by Chatto & Windus. In support of the Guardian And observer Order your copy from guardianbookshop.com. Shipping charges may apply.

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