History and Magical Realism: A Conversation with Defne Suman

9 Feb

“I expect and hope that my readers read the book twice or three times. Because once they know what is going on in the story and who is who then the book opens its doors to deeper levels and the joy of reading is doubled.”

Your university degree was in sociology, and you have since studied Buddhism and Hatha and Shadow Yoga. Have these studies helped you as a novelist, and if so, how?

These three disciplines focus on what is inside, the part that is not immediately obvious. Sociology taught me to look beyond the visible events and search for the inner dynamics of a society, my studies in Asia helped me to understand that human beings are not what they appear to be, there is a deeper side to every human and in the very core each one is the same. Literature as well, is an attempt to understand and reveal the mysteries of everyday existence at social and individual levels. So, all these subjects are weaved in my mind and my stories are born from their interconnection.

The Silence of Scheherazade is your only exclusively historical novel. What are the challenges of writing historical fiction, as opposed to fiction set in recent times?

It all depends on the style you choose to write. If you want to have realistic details, you need to do a lot of research. You are trying to create a fictive world in which you want your reader to feel like they are living in that world. So, from kitchen tools to outfits, street names to everyday technology you need do research. It is hard but very rewarding at the end.

The novel covers events including World War I, the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, and the ensuing Greco-Turkish War of 1919–22. How long did it take you to research the book’s historical context, and were there any books you found particularly useful?

I conducted my research as I wrote the book. Whenever there was a need to dig deeper, I took a break from the story and researched it. Other times, whilst I was reading some books about old Smyrna, a spark of inspiration from a line that I read would make me jump up from my seat to start writing new scenes. My number one reference book was Giles Milton’s Paradise Lost. I did research in Athens, in Izmir, in libraries of New York and Portland, Oregon (where I was living while writing the book.)

The Silence of Scheherazade contains elements of magical realism, such as the ghost that speaks through Sumbul. Why did you choose to include such elements, and did any other magical realist authors influence your writing?

Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, and Atwood’s Alias Grace were two inspirational books for me, especially with respect to their magical realism. The ghost scenes were a technical necessity. Ghost tells a story that is key to the plot. But it’s the kind of story that nobody other than a dead Juliette Lamarck can tell. So, I let Juliette’s ghost haunt the house of her granddaughter and I trusted Atwood! If Atwood wrote a character to be possessed by another one and allowed the plot to proceed thanks to that “possessed voice”, I thought, I too can tell some parts from the voice of a ghost.

In this book, you opt for a non-chronological narrative, told from the perspectives of several characters. What are the challenges – and the rewards – of this kind of storytelling?

I enjoyed writing it very much! That is the most important reward, I guess. Of course, for me, I had the whole plot in my mind as I was skipping in time and from one character to the other. My all-times favourite novel is God of The Small Things by Arundhati Roy. Roy’s novel begins with the end and ends with the middle. I find her style fascinating. It demands from its reader attention, patience, loyalty, and trust… The downside of this kind of plot is that most readers today don’t have the patience to collect the pieces of a circular narrative. When it is historical fiction, it is even harder. But then look at Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children! You begin the book by understanding nothing from it. Plus, if you don’t know much about the history of India, it gets harder. But if you keep on reading with perseverance and patience you are given one of the most fascinating fictive worlds of modern literature. These authors are my teachers. I expect and hope that my readers read the book twice or three times. Because once they know what is going on in the story and who is who then the book opens its doors to deeper levels and the joy of reading is doubled.

Although your novel contains memorable male characters, you tell much of the story from a female perspective. When did you make the decision to do this?

I grew up in a family of women. Strong. Hardheaded women. It comes to me easy when I write about the universe of female characters. It is harder to get in touch with the male characters although nowadays I am working on a novel that is narrated by a 75-year-old male character! Also, Smyrna was a feminine city. Graceful, abundant, beautiful, complicated. To construct the story of Smyrna and its destruction I needed a network of women: Greek, Turkish, Levantine (local French), Armenian and of course there is Gypsy Yasemin who roams in the town and carries the gossip from one woman to the other.

This novel is notable for its strong-willed, flawed but courageous characters. Do you have any especial favourites among them – and are there any you found it hard to like?

Edith Lamarck is my favorite. She is the daughter of wealthy local French family. Very independent and exotic. Bohemian. (It is 1920s after all!) I think she resembles me the most. I liked Avinash Pillai a lot and enjoyed writing his chapters. Young Indian spy! I loved young Panagiota with all her confusion and inner conflicts of a typical teenager. Sumbul was named after my great-grandmother. I guess I loved them all as my children. Even Huseyin and Juliette Lamarck… They are not the most lovable ones, but I still think of them dearly!

You grew up in Turkey, have lived in Thailand and the USA, and are now based in Greece. How have your travels helped you to develop as a novelist – and what language do you now write – and think – in?

I love traveling but not as a tourist. When I travel, I move to places. I find jobs and rent homes, buy a bicycle, and start a life there. I never settle anywhere with intentions of spending the rest of my life there. Nowadays I live in Athens, but I know that my life here is not forever. Isn’t that the only truth about life anyway? None of us is here forever. I settle in a place for a while and then move on to the next destination. My home is my writing. I write everywhere. Coffee shops, boats, airplanes, hotel rooms… Traveling the world and living in many different parts of the world have helped me to take a distance from my cultural conditioning and allowed me to become a more open person to different perspectives on life and relationships. I write in Turkish. It is my mother tongue. I think and dream in Turkish as well even though in my everyday life I speak more English and Greek. My heart strings still play a Turkish tune.

How closely did you liaise with your translator and how did you find the translation process?

Betsy Göksel is from the United States, and she has been living in Turkey since the 1960’s. She has worked as an English language teacher in the Robert College of Istanbul. Now she is retired and lives in a small island in Turkey. I found her through a friend. She understands literature very well. Her Turkish is excellent. We started working together in 2018. After translating every chapter of the book, she had sent it to me. I read it and sent my feedback back to her. That is how we have worked for each book of mine. Nowadays she is translating my short stories and doing a fantastic job.

Your new novel At the Breakfast Table will be published in September by Head of Zeus. Could you tell us a little bit about what it is about?

Yes, of course. It is the story of a family secret. The secret is revealed one morning at the breakfast table where the entire family is gathered to celebrate the grandmother’s 100th birthday. It takes place in Büyükada, a fancy island off the coast of Istanbul. It has four narrators (2 men and 2 women) and from every one of them we learn a different piece of the same story, all linked to the same family secret. The story takes place in 2 days but as the narrators remember their past we go as back as early as the 20th century and history is where the big secret is hidden. Not just for this one particular family but for the whole Turkey. It is about an unspoken piece of history, just like the way The Silence of Scheherazade is about the silenced history of Smyrna’s destruction.