Zadie Smith interviewed by Jael Richardson at a packed Stanley Theatre
Thursday evening, Leslie Hurtig, the Artistic Director of Vancouver Writers Fest, realized a dream when she brought Zadie Smith to the city to address fans in the sold-out Stanley. After reading from Feel Free, she responded to interviewer Jael Richardson's questions. The need for freedom keeps her moving forward artistically. Writers must free themselves "from needing to be liked," think their own thoughts and say what they see. "Part of a writer's job is finding language for new experiences."
It is of vital importance to say what you see and avoid being caught up in the masses who are "bullied into speaking in one voice." The pressure to write comes from within: "I never wrote a book except from a feeling of necessity."
Regarding the writing process, she commented on the need of writers "to sometimes restrain our natural instincts." With her "generative imagination," she creates large casts of characters with little effort. Different writers have different abilities, and in the novel form, it's possible with care and attention to hide what you can do less well.
An interesting cultural observation on fame was the comment that "it's strange being known and not knowing those who know you." Intimacy is difficult, but "fame is much worse." Yet a recent survey showed that a whopping 8 out of 10 British school children wanted to be famous. What drives that, she wonders, and what will come of it?
When Richardson asked her if she had a sense of cultural betweenness, Smith responded that it was necessary to avoid being too hardline, even to maintain some "moral flexibility." Proud rootedness in a single place is not something she values; indeed, people who use this to define their identity can be dangerous. "To take the accidents of birth as deep realities is absurd," she said, illustrating with the fact that her son is an accidental American with British parents -- her husband was born in Northern Ireland -- and Jamaican grandparents. The reason? She was too pregnant to be allowed on a plane back to London to give birth. In our times, such wide-rooted families are no longer unusual.
Not belonging, on the other hand, can be extremely powerful -- "it helps you see around the sides and provides the gift of radical empathy." On the notion of class, she feels it was "freeing" to come from the lower middle and working class, when "your parents haven't achieved." Middle-class life, on the other hand, can be stultifying," as children are defined as the sons and daughters of a person with a certain high status job, and can easily be bamboozled into following parental paths.
Currently, she spends her time between New York and London, and finds it "Interesting, moving between two dumpster fires." Responding to a question about Brexit, she admitted her unwillingness to even think about this "epic act of self-harm," and fears the Brexiters might win again if a second vote were to held, though her husband, poet Nick Laird, is more optimistic.
It is of vital importance to say what you see and avoid being caught up in the masses who are "bullied into speaking in one voice." The pressure to write comes from within: "I never wrote a book except from a feeling of necessity."
Regarding the writing process, she commented on the need of writers "to sometimes restrain our natural instincts." With her "generative imagination," she creates large casts of characters with little effort. Different writers have different abilities, and in the novel form, it's possible with care and attention to hide what you can do less well.
An interesting cultural observation on fame was the comment that "it's strange being known and not knowing those who know you." Intimacy is difficult, but "fame is much worse." Yet a recent survey showed that a whopping 8 out of 10 British school children wanted to be famous. What drives that, she wonders, and what will come of it?
When Richardson asked her if she had a sense of cultural betweenness, Smith responded that it was necessary to avoid being too hardline, even to maintain some "moral flexibility." Proud rootedness in a single place is not something she values; indeed, people who use this to define their identity can be dangerous. "To take the accidents of birth as deep realities is absurd," she said, illustrating with the fact that her son is an accidental American with British parents -- her husband was born in Northern Ireland -- and Jamaican grandparents. The reason? She was too pregnant to be allowed on a plane back to London to give birth. In our times, such wide-rooted families are no longer unusual.
Not belonging, on the other hand, can be extremely powerful -- "it helps you see around the sides and provides the gift of radical empathy." On the notion of class, she feels it was "freeing" to come from the lower middle and working class, when "your parents haven't achieved." Middle-class life, on the other hand, can be stultifying," as children are defined as the sons and daughters of a person with a certain high status job, and can easily be bamboozled into following parental paths.
Currently, she spends her time between New York and London, and finds it "Interesting, moving between two dumpster fires." Responding to a question about Brexit, she admitted her unwillingness to even think about this "epic act of self-harm," and fears the Brexiters might win again if a second vote were to held, though her husband, poet Nick Laird, is more optimistic.