“All books are communal acts, even in their own writing”
The utterly wonderful Ali Smith appears at the Edinburgh International Book-festival, the book-festival she herself refers to as the “best in the world”.
Smith is an accessible genius, a democratic literary legend. Chair of the session, writer and critic Stuart Kelly, comments on how dazzling and mercurial her mind is. She responds to this, and the spontaneous round of applause, by modestly pulling a face. Her mastery of language is belied by her playfulness, her lack of pretention genuine.
Today she discusses ‘How to be both’. This novel is produced in a refreshingly innovative format, with the book of two halves being printed in two versions. The stories are exactly the same in both versions, just in a different order. The book has two distinct voices, set in two distinct periods of history. The reader is not faced with a choice; instead he or she picks the book from the bookseller’s shelf, not knowing in advance which incarnation they have in their hands. This means that each reader, with each reading, has a unique experience. There is some discussion around the impact this has and a straw poll is taken of the audience, as to who had read George’s story before Francescho’s story. “You sweethearts” she says as it transpires that some readers read both versions.
Smith reads a piece from each half of the book, her animated voice allowing the words and ideas to tumble out and flow at an exhilarating pace.
“You have a unique use of the colon”, observes session Chair Stuart Kelly. “It both breaks down the sentence and extends it.”
“I stole it from Del Cossa himself” Smith reveals. A letter was discovered that revealed the existence of a forgotten artist, Francesco Del Cossa. In this letter Del Cossa asks the Duke who commissioned the fresco for more money, because, as e l Cossa modestly puts it, he is better than everybody else working on the fresco. Smith explains “It’s an Olive Twist story, ‘please can I have some more’. It’s a very idiosyncratic letter, he splits sentences with a colon. It’s the gift of voice. The Del Cossa voice just hit me in the chest.”
“Which voice came first?” asks Kelly “They both came” replies Smith, quick as a flash.
“You can’t have finality without lasting, you can’t have something last without finality. Art is wonderful, it’s about time and not time; things that last and things that don’t last. Things that survive even when they’re gone. You see the renaissance shift form. Our notions of beauty have changed over the centuries.”
Kelly leads the discussion about the voices, the structure and the themes of the novel. Smith replies in her quicksilver way, with passion and wit. “I’m a shy person; I find it hard to articulate” she admits. The audience scoffs at this this, prompting Smith to smile and say “You’re so nice”. The democratic nature of reading is explored. “Each reader is allowed their own interpretation” says Kelly and Smith agrees. “The book has to be seaworthy; the author sends it out into the world, and then it’s no longer anything to do with us. The reader’s involvement in a book is so important; the radical democracy of a book. All books are communal acts, even in their own writing.”
The discussion moves to future work, including a planned collection called ‘Public Libraries and other stories’.
”These are short stories I’ve written over several years, brought together and given a spine. I asked everyone I knew about the influence libraries have had on them. In the space of asking, twenty eight libraries closed. In the seven years of writing these short stories over one thousand libraries have closed. Libraries embody the democracy of reading; the democracy of space, the democracy of the library card in your pocket.
We know that books make us and give us life, understanding and knowledge. Why wouldn’t you tell at a culture that takes that away from us?”
Wise words indeed.