What motivated me to write about immigrants’ experience
You once said, just as Franz Kafka did, that a writer should be like a mirror, reflecting only what is real without offering suggestion or solutions. To what extent has this influenced your works? A great deal. Often I get so obsessed with that concept that I don’t even as much as use an intrusive […]
You once said, just as Franz Kafka did, that a writer should be like a mirror, reflecting only what is real without offering suggestion or solutions. To what extent has this influenced your works?
A great deal. Often I get so obsessed with that concept that I don’t even as much as use an intrusive voice. It has more to do with avoiding moralizing in stories. What we write, if not religious tracks, have no business “talking down” to people. It’s a turn off. At least let your readers know that you appreciate their intelligence and their ability to figure things out.
Your novel Edible Bones focuses on the immigrant experience. What prompted you to write it?
Being an immigrant myself prompted me to write the book. I also wanted to tell a story that I feel has not been told enough. The story of how America is not always the land of milk and honey for everybody. You have to earn that “milk” and that “honey.” You don’t just waltz into the country and stumble upon overflowing “milk” and “honey.” Some Americans “burst” their “butts” everyday, working to get that milk and honey, yet some of them don’t get it, talk more of an immigrant who, first of all, is unaware and then is illegal. So it gets complicated in almost every angle.
Kaito, your lead character, is a rather interesting self-destructive person. How did you come about such a fascinating and annoying character?
I don’t entirely blame Kaito for his mistakes. When you don’t know any better, you tend to fumble around a lot before you get your bearing. Some people learn faster than others and adjust accordingly, others never really learn.
You mentioned once that Kaito was inspired by a true character. To what extent then is Edible Bones fictionalised?
Edible Bones’ skeletal shape is true; the added flesh is to an extent fiction. Some of the episodes in the novel are from bits and pieces of some of the immigrant experiences I have either witnessed or heard about. However, I know a couple of real stories like that of Kaito.
Did you at any point feel that you may have been a bit too harsh on Kaito; he seemed to be falling into quite a lot of misfortunes?
I don’t think so. Kaito’s lack of insight and his eagerness to make money clouded a lot of his good judgment. Hence, he kept making bad decisions.
Kaito had to repeatedly turn down advances from gay men. This issue of alternative sexuality is constantly cropping up in contemporary literature. Do you feel that writers now feel pressured to address these issues in order to gain acceptance?
What do you mean by “cropping up”? Sexuality has always been a part of our lives. We’re all sexual beings to a large extent. So if you use the phrase cropping up, you make it sound as if it is not a legitimate issue. And when you say that writers are pressured to address these issues to gain acceptance, the word “pressured” and “acceptance” seem contradictory to me. Who is pressuring them and why do they have to feel the need to be accepted. Accepted by whom?
True, these issues have always been there, and now more and more writers are addressing issues of homosexuality and homophobia in their books. Do you feel some writers might be doing this to covet western endorsement?
I think more writers are addressing the subject because of the developing, wide spread awareness of all things “sexual,” especially through the media. It has also been a tabooed subject, just as sex is generally looked upon as a tabooed subject in our culture. Nevertheless, homosexuality is a human trait; it is not restricted to certain people or culture. So coveting western endorsement does not come in at all. Granted, the western world seems to have more respect for human rights and they do their best in enforcing it, but it does not mean that sexuality in all its variant shapes and forms is a “thing” of the west. No; homosexuals can come from any country, any parent and any culture. The more we understand that, the more we become more empathetic and more understanding of the reality and perhaps begin to develop a more positive attitude towards the issues of sexuality. This will assist a great deal in combating the epidemic spread of terminal diseases like AIDS. We can’t continue living in denial. People, who are constrained to have multiple sexual partners because they want to give the impression that they are heterosexuals when they are not, are more likely to be infected with a sexually transmitted disease. And they can’t entirely take the blame particularly when their sexual lives are now a theme for national debate with threats of being killed or jailed. Everything is not straight cut, white or black. Everybody is not the same; some people are just different.
The narrative for Edible Bones was surprisingly sparse and fast paced. Being a poet, one would have expected a bit more from you. What informed this choice of style?
Sparse sounds like the economy of words to me and that works best with poetry. If you are, however, referring to the non-embellishment of my language in the novel, perhaps yes. This came out of the sense of urgency with which I tell the story. I don’t think anybody pauses to consciously garnish his or her language when they feel they have something exigent to share.
What has been the reaction to the book and how has it affected your writing?
I’ve had mostly positive reactions to the book. There are some cynics here and there, but generally, Edible Bones has had good reviews. That is encouraging, and makes the tedious task of story-telling a fulfilling vocation. Constructive criticism is good also because it makes one see their flaws and consequently do better. Or, that is the way I look at it.
You were first known as a poet and now we have your second novel. In which genre do you feel more at home?
[Laughs] I am still a poet. I am comfortable with both genres. In fact, I feel at home with any form of expression that has to do with writing. I’ve tried my hands on different genres: plays, memoirs and travelogues.
Tell us about your love for writing; when did it start?
My mother and my grandmother told me stories as a child, so I feel in love with words and the world of imagination. Consequently, as soon as I shed my scales of infancy, where the stories stopped, I was armed with my version of words and imagination. I started creating my own stories. Additionally, there was an element of melancholy that constrained me to write. I was a very moody and questioning child. For the numerous questions, I had no answer to, I wrote down my own responses to these questions. Now, I am married to words and creative imagination.
What was the defining moment for you, when did you realise you wanted to be a writer all your life?
Like I shared earlier, my love for literature started early. And I consistently kept a dairy. The defining moment for me came when one of my poems was published in my High School Magazine. There was something exhilarating about seeing one’s name in print. That was it for me; I wanted to make it permanent.
Reading Edible Bones brings back memories of Samuel Selvon’s The Lonely Londoners. How much of an influence was it for you, and what other writers have had the greatest influences on your works?
The Lonely Londoners didn’t influence me at all; a good number of immigrant stories tend to share similar tone and texture. The greatest influences on my writing are too many to mention: Masizi Kunene, Flora Nwapa, Buchi Emecheta, Ben Okri, Alice Walker, Zaynab Alkali, Toni Morrison, Mariama Ba, Aido Ama, Chinua Achebe, Billy Collins, Elizabeth Bishop, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Wolfe, Emily Dicken, Marcel Proust, Albert Camus, etc.
Unoma Azuah is currently in Nigeria and will be reading Edible Bones this Saturday, May 12, at Quintessence, Falomo Shopping Centre, Ikoyi, Lagos.