Most of the guests I invite onto my blog are people who I know but, a few weeks ago, I received an email request from someone whose name was new to me. It was an email that was so lovely and engaging that that I just had to say yes. That someone is Sonja Price and she's going to tell us about her novel, the Giants Look Down, and about what it's like setting a novel in a place you've never been to.
Over to you, Sonja.
At an Arvon Creative Writing workshop Jim Crace, Booker
Prize shortlist candidate, gave me some invaluable advice about depicting
places I’d never been. You see, I decided to set my novel THE GIANTS LOOK DOWN in
Kashmir, which was unfamilar territory for me. He told me not to write it like
a travel report, but instead to take some aspect of the landscape and show its
familiarity. So I described the image of the old women’s face playing on the
rocks created by the moonlight:
We lived in one of the finest houses in the foothills, built of
stone with a sweeping view of the valley from the veranda. From my bed I could
see the Gilgul pass and the rock face that looked like a woman’s face with snow
white hair. She used to smile at me when the moonlight fell on the stone. In
early spring the scent of mulberry blossoms filled my room so that in summer I
would climb and harvest basketfuls of berries from the tree outside my window
for Sabri our cook, who made delicious chutney from them. With plenty of food
in store winter never posed a problem. We always had a taste of summer in the
house even when we were snowed in for days. I loved those days, when even Pa couldn’t
get away. A blizzard would be raging outside as we gathered around the fire to
listen to stories of what Pa got up to as a boy.
Writers go where their imaginations take them, and mine
was ignited by a report on the car radio of the Great Earthquake in Kashmir of
2005. I discovered that the region, specifically the Vale of Kashmir, is breathtakingly
beautiful. Majestic snow-covered mountain ranges, among the highest on this
planet, cradle a valley lush in sycamore woods and fields of saffron interspersed
with a pearl necklace of lakes. Wular Lake is all of 100 square miles and full
of carp and trout; houseboats moor amongst the reeds, and on Dal Lake gondola-like boats called shikara laden
with fruit and vegetables meet to form a floating market. As if the scenery
were not spectacular enough, the vale boasts a rich history of maharajas,
princes and princesses. But this paradise has been the centre of political
strife over the past 70 years since Kashmir lost its independence with the
Partition of India. Although its population is overwhelmingly Muslim, the Vale
of Kashmir chose to become part of its Hindu neighbour, India. Two wars have
been fought between Indian and Pakistani over it and both armies still stand
their ground on the highest battlefield of the world, where avalanches claim
more lives than armed conflict.
There must be a story in there somewhere for me, I
thought to myself. What would happen if a 10-year-old Hindu girl called Jaya
decided to become a doctor much to the chagrin of her mother and the patriarchal
society of 1960s Kashmir? And how would she react to being transplanted to
Scotland? I had my doubts about evoking Kashmir on paper but bolstered myself
with the fact that Elizabeth George got away with basing her first published
book in England before ever crossing the Great Pond and Andy Weir didn’t need
to go to Mars to write THE MARTIAN. Well, publication brought relief when the reviews,
including some from Indians, praised the authenticity of my portrayal of
Kashmir. One reader even thought that I must have lived there for years! Well I
did conduct some intensive interviews with Indians, but it’s amazing how
helpful books, especially picture books, travel blogs and endless online
resources such as google maps can be.
One Kashmiri journalist understandably questioned my
intentions and asked me how I could deal with the conflict so superficially.
Given the complexity of the situation, it was a reasonable question. But I
countered that I was simply endeavouring to tell a story: nothing more, nothing
less. My aim was solely to entertain and amuse the reader; I did not want to
take sides nor deliver a message, yet at the same time I still tried to depict
the situation as sensitively and genuinely as possible. Drawing attention to
the plight of Kashmiris could surely not be a bad thing in itself, I added.
Well, he seemed to agree and printed my interview in full together with a
picture of yours truly with her book:
