elif
1/22/10
10:03 PM
Page 2
‘I prefer to be a writer first, not a woman first’ Maria Eliades speaks to Elif fiafak about writing, women's literature and her latest book translated into English, ‘The Forty Rules of Love’
A
lthough Elif fiafak was born in Strasbourg, France and raised in Spain, Jordan and Germany, her novels about Turkey have become well-known in both English and Turkish. fiafak won the Rumi Prize for her first novel Pinhan (The Sufi), followed by the Union of Turkish Writers' Prize for The Gaze (Mahrem). In total, she has written a short story collection, ten novels, an autobiography on her motherhood and an essay collection on gender. Her second most recent novel, ‘The Forty Rules of Love (Aflk)’, will be released by Viking on February 22nd. 10 Time Out ‹stanbul February 2010
I'll start with a general question. Why do you write? I can't imagine a life without writing. I can't imagine a life without books. I started writing at an early age and I have been writing since I was eight or nine years old. But that's not because I wanted to become an established novelist. I didn't even know there was such a lifestyle. I had a very lonely childhood. I was raised by a single mom and she and I traveled a lot. Books were always the best thing in my life. I always found the imaginary so-called world in books much more real than the life we're living. So that's how
it started. As often as I could, I ran into that world. The desire to become an established writer came to me when I was 18, 19 years old but the need to write was always there. Your first novel, Pinhan, was in Turkish. Why did you choose to write your fifth novel, The Saint of Incipient Insanities, in English? For the last four or five years now I've been writing in two languages, both English and Turkish, and I'm enjoying it very much, although I have to say it's not easy for me because English is an acquired language. I wasn't raised bilingual. I
elif
1/22/10
10:03 PM
Page 3
Elif fiafak Exclusive started learning English when I was 11 years old. But the thing is, I think the age we're living in is the age of mobility, the age of migrations, multiculturalism. It is perfectly possible to dream in more than one language. English is a very mathematical language. It's very cerebral. Turkish for me is very emotional. It's the language of my grandmother, my early childhood. So to each language I feel connected differently. Each language has its own rhythm, has its own labyrinth and all you need to do is discover it. Because we do not shape language. Language shapes us. As you switch from one language to another you become a different person. And I like that. I like to commute between languages the same way I like to commute between cultures. If I write in English and I come back to Turkish I hear Turkish differently. If I write in Turkish and I come into the English language, I travel into this language as if it was a continent. What was the thought process behind writing your new novel, The Forty Rules of Love three times? It was insanity. I mean it's a bit crazy because you have to work twice as much and if you don't like language, it's a burden because it takes too much time. But otherwise, I enjoyed it so much. On one level, I've been writing in English since The Saint of Incipient Insanities, but with Aflk (The Forty Rules of Love) I took another step forward. I constructed two parallel worlds. It was written in English first; it was translated by a very good translator, but I took the translation and rewrote the translation, so it is my Turkish, my rhythm. When the Turkish was done, I went back to the English version and rewrote it as well. It taught me a lot because the process isn't just about words. Sometimes you can't translate one word directly in one language and you have to think why that is, which tells you a lot about the whole mentality that surrounds words. So which is the better version of the novel? The Turkish novel or the English novel? I can't make a distinction. I think there's a certain simplicity in language and modesty. At the same time, I think there's a lot of strength in that modesty. That's why I didn't play too many linguistic games. There's a lot of that in The Saint of Incipient Insanities, for instance, again,
fiAFAK’S WORK
But the thing is, I think the age we're living in is the age of mobility, the age of migrations, multiculturalism. It is perfectly possible to dream in more than one language.
because of the theme. I think every story comes with its own language and style. Writing is like water. It's very fluid. With each and every book I keep changing. With each story I like to adopt a new style, a new vocabulary and new language. To me language is not an instrument I use and put aside. I do not see myself as above language. I really think as we move from one language to another, our personalities change. Why did you decide to present the story of Shams and Rumi through the character of Ella? Perhaps it's because I'm so fond of journeys. In each one of my novels I try to travel to a different century, to different people's mindsets and build connections. The art of writing is about building connections. While writing this book, what intrigued me was looking at the 13th Century and seeing where the charm of Rumi's voice comes from. It's so magnetic it pulls you toward itself despite 800 years. This Islamic poet lived 800 years ago but his voice is still heard. I was interested in showing the connections between that era and this particular era. I've met so many people who don't know where Konya is, but when you say 'Rumi' to them, it means a lot to them. I find those cross-cultural connections really fascinating. That's what I wanted to explore. You don't have to be of the same culture, of the same religion, of the same national identity to feel the same things. Do you believe in such a thing as 'Women's Literature’? It's slightly different in different countries, but in Turkey, the words 'woman writer' is emphasized all the time. When you're a male writer, nobody calls you a male writer. You're a novelist. You're a poet. But when you're a woman and a writer and a poet, you are a woman first and then a writer, a woman first and then a poet. This is something that I question and I'm critical about. I believe in what Virginia Woolf said, that our pen needs to be bisexual. When I'm writing, I am a woman, but I'm a man as well and I like that. I do not believe in a 'Women's Literature' in the narrowest sense. On the other hand, my being a woman affects the way I look at the world and certainly the way the world looks at me. I think I am very gender conscious but I do not like to waive this as a banner. I prefer to be a writer first, not a woman first and then a writer.
• Siyah Süt • Ka#›t Helva • The Forty Rules of Love (Aflk) • The Bastard of Istanbul (Baba ve Piç) • The Flea Palace (Bit Palas) • Beflpefle • The Saint of Incipient Insanities (Araf) • fiehrin Aynalar›
12 Time Out ‹stanbul February 2010
elif
1/22/10
10:03 PM
Page 4
Elif fiafak Exclusive
What was the research process for this particular novel? For each book, I read everything I can find, everything I can put my hands on. But with Aflk, my research on Sufism started 16 years ago. I was a student at Middle Eastern Technic University. I wrote my master's thesis on Sufi thought, Sufi philosophy and again in my first novel. Sufism has been with me ever since then but there are stages and seasons. It wasn't always the same thing. At some stages it was more intellectual, in others more emotional. Is your mind the guide or is your heart the guide? It changes but nevertheless there's that background. The research of Aflk I would say was fifteen years plus a year and a half of writing and researching. How did you know you were ready to start writing the novel? I feel pulled into the story. I have a pendulum, an inner emotional pendulum. That's why I'm not sure I choose my topics. Sometimes I think the themes and stories choose me. I just write with a vague but strong feeling inside and I let the story carry me into its shores. That's how it happened with Aflk. So it's not like you make a decision and say, 'I'm going to write a novel on Rumi.' No, I always start with a feeling, sometimes a picture and I chase that picture. I wanted to write something about love. As I kept writing I realized, 'Wait a minute, this has to go through Rumi, this has to go through Shams.' So my starting point was love. It wasn't Rumi. Your most recent books in Turkish have been Black Milk (Siyah Süt), which will be coming out in 2011 and Paper Halvah
(Ka¤›t Helva). Are there any plans for Ka¤›t Helva's translation? Maybe in the long run. You know, it's a bit difficult for us to have our books translated and then published in Western languages. It's a constant struggle for Turkish writers in general. When you look at the amount of books that are being translated and published in America, in the UK, that percentage is unfortunately very small.
Like in America it's two percent out of the total books published. The total is three percent in the US and the UK. Yeah. And most of that comes from Spanish, French and Japanese. There's a lot of interest in those literatures. But if you're coming from a Turkish background, we read the Western World a lot more than the Western World reads us. When a book is published in London, it's almost immediately translated into Turkish and people read it. It's a one-way road. This is something that needs to change. We're talking about the art of storytelling, which is so universal. Stories need no passports or visas. They travel the whole world. In this age I think we need stories and storytelling more than ever. So I hope this will change, though at the moment it's very Eurocentric. Do you have any plans for your next novel? When I finish a book, I don't immediately start on my next one. I have this pendulum. When I'm writing, I write very intensely. When the book is over, I go to the other end. I socialize more, I become a normal person. I do other things for six or four months and then I stop and go back to writing. I write something every day. I also write for newspapers, but I don't write a novel everyday. But the moment I enter the novel, I don't stop. It then becomes the most important thing in my life. So now the pendulum is back and I'm starting my new novel, but let's see what it's going to be. I don't plan. I like it when the story surprises me. I prefer when the characters develop themselves. That's how I write. When I'm writing I feel I'm drunk.
Of Being Told From its first page, The Forty Rules of Love understands that it will be read between calming screaming children or at the end of a day when time is open but the mind is partially shut. A mind like that, no matter how clever or tireless, will skip dwelling on the lack of literary stylistics and jump into the emotions of Ella Rubinstein, the New England housewife turned literary reviewer. The heart of the story, however, is not with Ella's re-awakening into living with passion but with the love of Mawlana Jalal ad-Din Rumi and Shams of Tabria as presented in Sweet Blasphemy, the novel within the novel. Something magical and raw occurs in the central story of Rumi and Shams where Ella, drawn towards the reader just darkly enough to be understood, vanishes. Once the letters and voices of the Thirteenth Century world are given space, those lives take over. The reader then wishes, along with Ella, to envision herself in the scenes as soon as possible, to throw off the cardboard of Ella's family to be with “Words in Arabic. Delightful sunsets. Mulberry trees and silkworms waiting patiently in secretive cocoons for their moment to arrive.” The beauty of such details with the crescendoing destruction of Ella's old life through her own letter exchange with Sweet Blasphemy's author push pages. The turning unfortunately occurs at the tossing of literary standards and character depth, but when one reads The Forty Rules, one doesn't do so to play with semantics. Novels that dilly-dally with words forget their first duty: to tell a story which will entertain and sing for future audiences. For now, Ella and her elderly cohorts call to those who yearn to hear all sides of love.
• The Gaze (Mahrem) • Med-Cezir • Pinhan • Kem Gözlere Anadolu February 2010 Time Out ‹stanbul 13