Writers & Readers Week
Mar 14 | Reviewed by Amy Brown

LISTENING to a line up of four internationally acclaimed writers, each with a different accent, is a particular pleasure. Simon Armitage, with that sexy Northern burr; Louise Erdrich, sounding exactly as I’d hoped, with that velvety Chippewa lilt; Nurruddin Farah with his dramatic use of silence, and finally Michael Cunningham – as smooth and American as they come.

Watching the faces, familiar from the dust-jackets of some of my favourite books, moving shyly to hongi, not knowing whether they were allowed on the stage, yet, was fascinating.

Louise Erdrich and Simon Armitage were the first under the lamps. Lydia Weavers gave a brief synopsis and a glowing recommendation of each writer’s work before inviting them to read passages or poems of their choice. Armitage began without any disclaimers, or self-introduction.

‘Gooseberries’ he said, and we were off. He, like his fellows, had chosen readily digestible yet strong pieces, which showcased his wry sense of humour and control of language. Before finishing, he explained that due to having been translating a long piece of Middle English verse recently, he had been writing “baggy” prose poems, which focussed more on story, than on structure. He read us one which involved the name of “a friend”, who shared his name with a prominent sportsman. We were not to get the friend and the sportsman confused. Shane Warne, in short, had his life pulled out from under him with Armitage’s characteristic black wit, in a poem called ‘The Mistlethrush’.

This is a bit Vanity Fair (and shamefully feminine of me), but I feel obliged to mention how Erdrich, from her enviable brown leather heels to her long shiny hair, looked the part as the approached the lecturn. The novelist of Love Medicine and most recently, The Master Butcher’s Singing Club described a novel’s title as a magnet, attracting details, characters and scenarios, depending on its vividness – her theory is demonstrated by the extraordinary titles I’ve included above.

Instead of reading a passage from one of her novels, Erdrich gave us a short story, involving an elderly couple lassoing a moose in a lake. Although it displayed some of the magic of her novels, I was disappointed she hadn’t read from one of them (perhaps she’s saving that for Thursday 16th).

After the interval, there was a good 10 second silence, stuffed with anticipation and theatre, before Farah opened his mouth and his book. He read from Secrets, a passage, rich in detail. Phrases like “rigid as a lagoon” (to describe a face) and “little zoo”, came thick and fast.

Cunningham, the charming finale, read from his latest novel Specimen Days. He started, “there’s no easy way of saying this but...” the third section of this novel is science fiction, a genre, which is difficult to sell to intelligent readers “...and, well, an android falls in love with a lizard woman.” Of course, that gained attention, especially when he mentioned Julianne Moore had signed up to play lizard lady in the film version.
The passage he read was a scene in which a fire engulfs a factory full of female sewing-machinists. The machinist who wasn’t working that day, and her brother in law, Luke (an intriguing character, obsessed with Walt Whitman), watch the flames, which were “neither cruel nor kind”.

And that was the end of the beginning. If I hadn’t known I was only there for titbits I would have been disappointed. As I left, I listened to the conversations of those planning their return the next morning, or if not then, the day after.

I think we are right to get excited about Writers & Readers Week. New Zealand is an isolated little place, and the arrival of the actual bodies and minds who wrote the books we love to read is not to be missed. As Lydia Weavers suggested, take a sickie and make the most of an hour with the person who wrote some of the words you’ve read and loved.

» Writers International @ NZ International Arts Festival