On Wildfires and Writing: A Conversation with Christy Lefteri
‘I wanted to examine old age through the eyes of youth, seeing what age could bring to youth.’
Congratulations on your new novel, The Book of Fire, which was a pleasure to read. How was the experience of writing this book, which deals with some big issues, some moral dilemmas and some complex relationships?
Thank you! The experience was harrowing, thought-provoking and humbling. I was three months pregnant when I went to Greece to learn as much as I could about people’s experiences of the wildfires in Mati. I also wanted to understand what recovery had been like for them. The stories I heard were very upsetting and frightening. It was so sad to be taken around the town by a local man who described what the forest had been like before it burnt. All the while, knowing that I was bringing a little baby into this world made it feel even more urgent. I also learnt a lot about the attribution of blame.
The novel centres on a fire that decimates a landscape and a community, which sadly is very timely with the wildfires we’ve seen this summer, it must be especially harrowing for you that the events and realities of the book are becoming increasingly prevalent in the world? But at the same time it’s more important than ever as a writer to tackle this issue with urgency and passion, right?
Yes absolutely. I watched on helplessly, like we all did last week, as the fires in Maui destroyed so much of life. There have been so many devastating fires this summer and I dread to think what is coming next. When I went to Mati in 2021, the fires were raging on the island of Evia. I did not go there, it was too dangerous. I stayed in Mati and spoke to people and learnt about what they had been through. I didn’t know then that the fires would become so much worse. Ever since I was a little girl I write about subjects that break my heart, that move me to tears. I have so much family in Greece and Cyprus and I was compelled to go there and learn and understand as much I could. News coverage can be overwhelming and full of crisis imagery which can sometimes make us detach from real events. Story-telling can have the power to draw someone into the lives of people who have lived through something, it can personalise events and help the reader to walk in the shoes of one person or one family.
In The Book of Fire, the effects of the fire are both a result of mankind’s greed and an unhealthy relationship with the natural world, there is a sense in which the fire is both unavoidable but also, in a way, inevitable, do you think?
Yes the fire is an accumulation of cascading circumstances which has set our world on fire. In the story, however, it is easier to put all the blame on one man.
It feels as if there is both an individual and collective responsibility for the consequences of the fire, was it important that the novel explored both sides, to show that there are both actions and blame we can take as individuals but also as wider societies and communities?
Yes this was exactly my thought-process.
The role between Irini and Chara, mother and daughter, is central to the book, and giving that child’s sense of perspective really casts things in a different light, how important was it to give the next generation a voice and a perspective in the novel?
This was really important for me. Like I said, I was pregnant at the time so the future of my baby was constantly on my mind. I wondered what kind of world Evie would live in and all the children. Also, I was a teacher for twenty years and have worked with many many children. I was always moved by the way children can be so passionate, so insightful about things, so sensitive and vulnerable but also resilient. I wanted to bring that out in the character of Chara.
Your novels always have such an incredible sense of place, what is it that draws you to particular locations and is there an element of wanting to protect and give them life by recreating them in print?
Yes, in a way it is like Tasso’s paintings. He wants to capture the forest, the changes in the forest, in the way he wanted to capture the changes in his mother when he was younger. I feel something similar. Our world is so beautiful. It now feels even more transient. I want to capture it as best I can. If I go somewhere, I absorb my surroundings, I really pause to take it all in and then I try to bring that out in my writing as best I can.
Nature too has always been paramount to your books. With so many beautiful landscapes and places of interest now under threat, has this taken on even greater importance?
Yes I think it has taken a greater importance. I have written many times about beautiful places that have been changed or destroyed in some way. Like Aleppo. Or Cyprus. There is a message in the book about how we can be destructive in many ways – be it war or contributing to global warming. But I think now the fires are so bad, so terrifying, that it is impossible not to fear the loss of our beautiful world.
Storytelling and art are also important in the novel, as a means of capturing a scene, a place, a moment in time, but also conveying emotions and feelings, and I wonder if there’s a sense in which art and literature are even more vital today in doing this?
I think it’s so important now because it’s vital that we act. Story-telling and art can have so much power to move us. News coverage, like I said, can be so distancing, but literature for example can bring us closer to the human story and help us to empathise and really see that this is happening now.
In writing such an emotionally loaded novel, is it important that you walk in your characters’ shoes or is there a need to maintain some authorial objectivity to allow the nuances and complexities to emerge in the story?
I find that I have to do both. I put myself into the shoes of the character, I remember the stories I heard, the feelings I had while I listened, the sadness I felt walking through the lost land. I go there in my heart and mind. But then, at times, I have to take a step back, to mould, to shape, to make decisions. But the step cannot be too big, because if it is then I will lose the connection.
Disasters and tragedies such as those explored in the novel are truly harrowing, and those who haven’t experienced them but see the pictures played out on the news and documentaries witness only a small fragment of the reality, what were the most eye-opening issues for you, the things you perhaps hadn’t really thought of in terms of the consequences, the aftermath?
I guess it was the simple things. The way people’s lives had changed. The fact that one woman described her beautiful garden and what it had once looked like, how much she missed it, and that a black bird used to visit her every day and after the fire she found the bird dead on the doorstep. These little things in life that affect individuals because it was what bought them joy. These things are always so raw and real and unexpected because you never know what is in each person’s heart.
It increasingly feels as if the world is on a precipice when it comes to climate change, and I wondered how you felt when you finished writing this book – hopeful or fearful for the future?
I alternate between the two. I feel so fearful especially as each summer approaches, I wonder how bad it’s going to get, then I feel hope because I remember how loving and creative and reparative we can be as human beings and I think we will find a way to fix this. Then I return to the fear.
Many readers will have loved your novel The Beekeeper of Aleppo, can I ask you about the recent stage adaptation – how did that come about and how has the experience been of moving from page to stage?
I met Matthew Spangler in Kells during a festival. We were doing a talk together about how he would hypothetically adapt my novel into a play. It was in front of an audience and they witnessed by reactions to his suggestions. It was really interesting. Then after the talk, during lunch, Matthew asked me if he could actually create the adaptation and I was over the moon. After that he would send me the script to read through, we would discuss things and I would also attend readings. It was such an amazing experience and I’m glad it reached so many people.
Are there any plans or ideas brewing for the next novel?
Due to some personal circumstances which made me feel trapped and made me question how far we have really come as women in today’s world, I have started to research women’s football during the WW1. I am writing a story with a dual narrative about two female footballers, one a hundred years ago and one in today’s world. On our shiny screens we seem to have progressed a lot, especially with the women’s world cup this summer, but there are issues beneath the surface which I have learnt about through my research. I want to explore women’s dreams and the struggle for equality.
And, finally, on the back of writing The Book of Fire, I wondered what your message would be about where we stand now as a global society and what action we need to take?
As I see it, we are standing on the edge of a great cliff, but we still have a chance to turn back. However, we all have to come together to do it.
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