Expectations met - Markus Zusak

We’ve talked on this blog about whether or not as readers we’re influenced by the way an author presents themselves in person.

The general consensus is that it shouldn’t matter: stories should be judged on their merits alone. However, it’s fair to say that when it comes to our favourite authors, we often harbour a secret hope their personalities somehow do their stories justice.

Regular readers of this blog know Markus Zusak is among my favourite writers (not just for The Book Thief – which still tops my list – but for his other four books as well). Last weekend, I was fortunate enough to spend time with him at a literary breakfast, and then writers’ workshop (hosted by the very author-friendly Logan Libraries in Queensland). And the news is all good.

One of the things I love most about Markus’ books is the honesty, warmth and poetic use of language that infuse his narrative. It turns out those qualities don’t just exist on the page.

It's not often fans get to know an author beyond their publicity blurb, but those who gathered for the sessions on the weekend – fans and writers alike – were given that rare opportunity.

Here’s a writer who openly talks about his self doubt, how he doesn’t have all the answers about writing and style, and that the secret to success is to have a deep passion for telling stories and a willingness to put in the time necessary to craft something above the ordinary.

In a truly remarkable moment, Markus read the opening chapter to his new novel. The reading was remarkable because the story is still a work in progress, and the final version may have little resemblance with what he shared (particularly given his penchant for continuous editing).

The reading didn’t disappoint. Fans lapped it up, hopefully realising how rare it is for a writer to share something not yet completely polished - particularly from a writer of Markus’ international reputation.

Gutsy move. (Hey, even the Ink-stained Toepoker was impressed...)

Of course Markus also spoke about The Book Thief, and the endless drafts he worked through (re-writing the first 90 pages between 150 and 200 times) before he finally found the narrative voice that would elevate the novel to realm of a classic: by having Death as the narrator.

People either love or hate that book. Here’s what I wrote when I finished reading it back in 2006:

It is one of the most beautifully and uniquely written stories I’ve read. So many writers have crafted stories in an attempt to capture the power of words, but this story did that better (and more profoundly) for me, than anything else I've read. It also clarified for me the unique role literature has in storytelling, and how it differs (or at least should differ) from other forms, like film and theatre. I laughed, I cried, and thought about life, suffering, and hope.

Ultimately, Markus Zusak is a great storyteller who loves the power of words. He's prepared to spend as much time as it takes to craft his story, making sure every sentence, every word -every piece of the puzzle - does what he needs it to.

I certainly walked away inspired, and motivated to be a better writer. I'm also now a little more patient in my wait for his next work ... I'm willing to bide my time until Markus Zusak to be happy enough with his new project to hand it to his publisher and share the story with the rest of us.

(And yes, I’m actually including a proper photo of myself for the first time on this blog. That’s me on the right with Markus and my favourite librarian – and breakfast/workshop organiser – Janet Poole.)

How to talk about books you haven't read

It turns out the trick to good literary conversation isn't reading books - it's just being able to talk about them.

Pierre Bayard, a professor of literature at Paris University, has written How to talk about books you haven't read, a bluffer's guide to literary chatting (reviewed by Barry Oakley in The Weekend Australian's Review this weekend).

According to Bayard, it's not the book itself that's important, it's the ideas - and the connections between them - that give literature value. For this reason, it's easy to talk about books you haven't read if you have an opinion on the ideas they are exploring.

Bayard says even the most thorough reading of a book soon shrinks into a summary. It's a reasonable point: you can spend a week reading a book and then explain it to someone in less than a minute. He says it then disappears even further over time (unless, of course you have a blog!).

It's an interesting viewpoint, but I can't quite embrace the idea that reading books isn't important. What would be the point in writing a book if people only read the synopsis and then launched into a discussion about it? What's the value of the author's viewpoint if nobody reads it? And if only one person needs to read a book to be able to summarise it for everyone else, who decides who gets to do the actual reading?

Bit too hard really. I like the idea that people read books, taking from them what they need or want (consciously and sub-consciously) and then those people further discuss the themes and ideas to expand and explore their own understanding. Discussion about literary ideas should complement reading, not replace it.

But then, of course, I've just blogged about ideas in a book I haven't read ...