Tuesday, 14 July 2015

'The writer stares with glassy eyes, defies the empty page...'

How much do an author's views affect your opinion of their work? I was thinking about this earlier today and then, by pure coincidence, got into conversation about it. My correspondent mentioned she was a big fan of Roald Dahl as a kid, but feels conflicted as an adult because 'apparently he was a raging anti-Semite'. His books meant the world to me when I was a little boy, and seemed a lot more real than maths or geography lessons. I see no reason why his politics should change my opinion of his writing today.

Similarly, H P Lovecraft's racism appalls me. His prejudices and phobias are all through his writing (who wants to bet Cthulhu looks the way he does because our boy Howard really, really didn't like shellfish?) and I simply can't agree with the way he portrays races other than his own, but dammit if his stories aren't great, unforgettable works that helped reinvent a genre.

I am, as is commonly known, a great fan of Clive Barker. His views on sexuality are a big influence on the way he represents 'the other' in his plays, stories, paintings, novels and films, which is why he tends to focus on the miraculous side as much as the monstrous. I approach his work in much the same way I do David Cronenberg's early movies. As a person with a disability born into a body that doesn't work properly, the process of transformation or becoming something beyond the self fascinates me. Usually in horror (at its core a very reactionary genre) people fear this and struggle against it. I say why not embrace it as the opportunity it is?

That's me projecting my perspective all over the place, and using it as a neat little segue into talking about my own stuff. My writing is full of people who, for one reason or another, don't quite fit into the mainstream workaday world. They observe society and exist on its fringes, but can never quite bring themselves to join in. They react to the sense of not belonging in ways I never would, and their responses often make sense to no-one but them, but there's always a rationale behind the behaviour

For years I thought this was due to all the Ruth Rendell I read in my twenties. The late and much lamented Baroness was and will remain a huge influence on everything I write within the crime genre, but there are other factors at play and I have a dear friend to thank for bringing them to light. During one of our very long lunches, said friend pointed out that I'd been writing about myself. Before I could either deny everything, make light of it or swiftly change the subject, I realised she had a point. I don't belong in the able bodied world or in the disabled world and I doubt I'd ever feel entirely at home in either. Instead I am compelled to carve out a niche in the spaces between them, taking things I like from both and using them for my own benefit, education or pleasure.


Long after I'm dead and students are complaining bitterly about having to read my books as part of their English courses, I hope their teachers will bear all this in mind while also treating my stories as the simple entertainments I intend them to be. Any creative work worth its salt should function on a number of levels, and I will do my utmost to ensure mine are no exception. My politics don't enter the equation because I don't have any, but my experiences and reflections on them colour every word. That's unavoidable, but the stories owe it to themselves and their readers to stand on their own merits without prior knowledge of the author's life or mindset.

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