Showing posts with label michael ondaatje. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michael ondaatje. Show all posts

Thursday, May 31, 2007

From Fragment to Novel

I am so excited to hear about Michael Ondaatje's new novel since it's been quite a while since the moving and beautiful Anil's Ghost.

In an interview in the Sydney Morning Herald he talks about how writing a novel is a process of evolution for him. He reveals that he began his new novel, Divisadero with a fragment of story someone told him in passing:
It was something about a horse that got loose in a barn and knocked down its owner. He wrote it down: a stormy night, an animal losing its mind, the girl in a heap on the floor. Gradually, the beginnings of a novel collected around those two pages; one girl turned into two, followed by a young man.

"It was a keyhole that allowed me to discover the rest of the book," he says now. "It was the opening." A landscape rose up to meet the horses, humming with insects and shimmering with grasses and, over five years' writing, the three people in the barn gradually revealed themselves to him. "I wasn't quite sure what any of them was like; they were all mysteries to me," he says. He didn't yet know that they had grown up together, that one limped, that one became a gambler.

"Some writers know exactly what their books are about when they begin," he says. "That seems incredibly boring to me. I am much more interested in how the writer evolves in the writing, so that the novel evolves as well." It was the same, he says, when he wrote his most famous novel, The English Patient. "I didn't know who the patient was: he was just the patient. He was a mystery to me. But then, as a book progresses, there is a kind of archaeology the writer performs on the characters; you work backwards.
So if you need a starting point for a story carry a notebook around with you and jot down those interesting snippets that you overhear, the stories that people tell you. You might just find the starting point you're looking for.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

A Bunch of Poetic Posies

On our poetry blog, that crazy Madcap Machinist has put together a Puisi-Poesy Valentine with a poem by Baudelaire, which you can listen to in the original sexy French.

Leon has a wonderful poem up, Singh Song! by Daljit Nagra, about a Sikh guy who runs a corner shop in a British town.

I stuck up one of Malika Booker's poems Arrival, about a man becoming a father for the first time.

And there's a lovely captured moment in Michael Ondaatje's Flight, posted by Dreamer Idiot.

Do go and enjoy. And if any of you shy guys out there woudl like to choose and write about a poem, get in touch.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Tigers at the Tate

The Jungle in Paris exhibition at the Tate is a joy. Wandered round it with my sister and kids Sunday afternoon, all of us enraptured by Rousseau's lush landscapes and improbable creatures. All of his most famous outrageously exotic paintings were there (I'd seen some of them in the Musee d'Orsay in Paris) as well as plenty that were new to me. The mutimedia gadget we carried with us enhanced the experience with commentary and interviews which told of his life (amateur artist, fitting in painting round the day job of toll-collector, totally self-taught yet possessing unflinching belief in his ability) his influences, and the artists that he influenced in turn including Max Ernst and Picasso.

And novelist/poet Michael Ondaatje calls Rousseau a "companion", in the writing of his books, and wrote a poem called Henri Rousseau and Friends which appears in his collection The Cinnamon Peeler. I loved the poem so much that I set out to track the book down in Daunts yesterday. Here's a taste of it - I think Ondaatje distills the essence of Rousseau's paintings so well ...

In his clean vegetation
the parrot, judicious,
poses on a branch.
The narrator of the scene,
aware of the perfect fruits,
the white and blue flowers,
the snake with an ear for music,
he presides.

The apes
hold their oranges like skulls,
like chalices.
They are below the parrot
above the oranges -
a jungles serfdom which with this order
reposes.