Showing posts with label brexit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brexit. Show all posts

Sunday, 18 November 2018

For Critical Quarterly - 'Brexit in fact and fiction: a few first drafts of history'

Nice to be back in the pages of Critical QuarterlyVolume 60, Issue2, July 2018, to be precise – with my essay on Brexit and fiction first presented at the University of Northampton in 2017. I set the scene like so:
“The EU referendum result split the nation near enough in half; defenestrated a Tory Prime Minister; confounded the ambitions of more than one of David Cameron’s putative successors; and, within a year, had created the conditions whereby a pension-aged Trotskyist with a career-long disdain for the European ‘project’ could entertain a real hope of leading the largely pro-Remain Labour party into government. As dramatic material this is worthy of Sophocles or Shakespeare. The challenge for writers of fiction, a perennial one, is whether or not they can improve on the facts already known by way of an imaginative treatment; or whether the facts are simply richer, stranger and more compelling when simply recorded in plain words…”

Writers & Intellectuals on Britain & Europe, 1918-2018: A conference at Northumbria University


M.G. Sanchez, Kristian Shaw & Your Correspondent

Always a pleasure to be in Newcastle, especially so for me a couple of weeks ago when I attended the Northumbria University conference 'Writers and Intellectuals on Britain and Europe, 1918-2018,' convened by Dr Ann-Marie Einhaus. 

I had a couple of speaking functions to perform: first on a panel called ‘Writers on Britain and Europe now,’ chaired by Bob Eaglestone from Royal Holloway University, where I exchanged views with Fiona Shaw, Mark (‘M.G.’) Sanchez and Kristian Shaw;  and then in a session entitled ‘Novelists on Brexit’ (chaired by Barbara Korte of Albert-Ludwigs-University Freiburg, alongside Mark once more, plus Ina Habermann of the University of Basel, and this time I delivered my paper: ‘“We must suffer them all again”: Political fictions and their debt to “past experiments”’; I took my texts from Auden, Brecht and Anthony Wedgwood-Benn.

A fascinating day in all; I met some terrifically smart people; I hope to publish my paper in due course; and some of my contributions to the first panel session were captured pretty faithfully on Twitter as below.





Friday, 19 August 2016

The Knives reviewed by James Kidd: 'Epic political thriller... a mix of Robert Harris and Tom Wolfe'

I'm really pleased by this write-up from the literary critic and journalist James Kidd that appeared today in the South China Morning Post. Couldn't be happier, for one, to be mentioned in the same breath as two of the major proponents of the popular novel of current affairs... But I'm also really gratified by the way James Kidd has synopsised the novel's plot - the elements he's drawn attention to, and his indication of why they might be there.

For example, it's terrific that this short but detailed review winds round to the following conclusion:

'The Knives rings bells on almost every page: anyone curious about Brexit might want to read about the 'Free Briton Brigade'. The end is a shocker and, tragically, only too believable.'

Tuesday, 2 August 2016

A few things about The Knives



1. My novel The Knives is published this Thursday, August 4. I first began thinking about its subject in late 2009, and wrote a fledgling version as a prospective short-form Channel 4 drama. My interest had been stirred by some of the very public political/moral dilemmas facing the then-Labour Home Secretary Alan Johnson. That interest deepened when I read David Blunkett’s lengthy and detailed published diaries. I wondered what it would mean to discharge such duties - to walk a mile in those shoes, imaginatively.

2. I began to plot out a long-form story about a flawed man doing a legendarily difficult job, mired in crises both professional and personal – a Home Secretary with no home of his own. Since governments come and go, and since a writer's job is to make things tough for one's characters, I soon knew that my protagonist had to be a working class Conservative, in a north of England constituency, who had served in the army. By 2010 I had a title for the piece, Homeland, but I was just too slow out of the blocks on that score.

3. Research proper on the novel, both from written sources and by going to people and places directly, went on from 2011 right up to 2015. In real life, and for all that the job is considered a poisoned chalice or gilded coffin, Theresa May endured as Home Secretary throughout those years – right up to her recent promotion. Her discharging of duties at Marsham Street was of obvious interest to me, as it has been to journalists on the Westminster beat, and never more so than now. (Andrew Rawnsley’s piece on May and her circle of advisors in last week’s Observer is a very good and insightful place for newcomers to start.)
                                                                                                                    
4. The Knives, though, is fiction. It’s not based or modelled on anyone, it’s no roman a clef. It does, though, aspire through a story to offer some plausible dramatic scenarios and imaginative truths about arguably the hardest office in politics - and its complex relation to this nation of ours and her citizenry.

5. The novel is dubbed a ‘political thriller’, essentially for shorthand purposes. I would see it as a drama that’s intended to grip: a Scandinavian boxset of a novel, if you like, with multiple concurrent plotlines and themes. I would be really pleased if admirers of the TV series Borgen found it of interest. Like my first novel Crusaders, The Knives tries to address some national themes of public interest, in a dramatic manner. Like Crusaders, it’s in the last act that the thriller elements coalesce - the clock begins to tick for the central character, and the train drives down one track to the denouement.

6. I guess there’s a certain timeliness in a novel about a Tory Home Secretary who's widely fancied to become Prime Minister appearing at this moment – amid a year of politics that has been more interesting than many of us would have liked. The book perhaps foreshadows a few things that have become reality. In at least one regard I wish they hadn’t.

7. In a time of political tumult and crisis, like this one in which we’re currently enveloped, people who read a lot can be forgiven for losing their heads in angst and dread; and fiction has a hard fight to show it’s more useful for what ails us than Twitter. But it’s a worthwhile fight, nonetheless. Of course there is a living to be had from arguing that whatever’s happening today is the definitive episode in human history. But it isn’t. Ecclesiastes got that dead right.

8. The EU referendum result defenestrated a Prime Minister and cleared out more than one of his self-styled successors. The ambitions of Cameron, Johnson and Gove, and the popular failure of the case for Britain to remain in the EU, have been shut down, shuttered and bolted: the narrative of those events has already been well told in journalism, and no doubt there will be a non-fiction book or two to follow.

9. Still, our oft-maligned political system managed to propel the most capable candidate into Cameron’s place, once the blatant hoodwinkers had fallen away. The aftermath of that referendum vote, however, will be long and painful, and will define the premiership of Theresa May. The problems that faced her as Home Secretary over six years – inter alia, levels of immigration, varieties of alienation in England’s regions, forms of English nationalism, concern for England’s identity and the threat of 'domestic extremism' in various forms – have, I think, a fair bit to do with why England voted as it did on June 23. The Knives is certainly much preoccupied with such matters. My fictional Home Secretary David Blaylock has his (invented) Westminster constituency on Teesside, where all areas voted to leave the EU by over 60%.

10. In terms of government, such deep-rooted and persistent problems appear to be the burden of the Conservative Party, since Labour has, for the time being, abandoned the business of real politics. And the troubles are not going away – we will reckon with them for years to come. Fiction, I believe, has a part to play in the reckoning, and I wrote a piece for the Guardian last week on how novelists have borne witness to politics down the years – as ‘unacknowledged legislators’, if you like - certainly as watchmen, interpreters and dramatists of our predicaments.