Arguably the most perceptive and topical author of our times, Lionel Shriver is the Orange Prize-winning author of We Need to Talk About Kevin.
She will discuss her new novel The Mandibles, about the decline that might await the United States all too soon.
Chaired by David Leser, the author of six books and a Walkley award-winning journalist who has worked in Australia, North America, the Middle East, Europe and Asia for the past thirty-seven years. He is the also the executive producer of the award-winning documentary Paul Kelly: Stories of Me.
Why have you chosen an apocalyptic (at least economically) narrative?
You try writing a novel set in the future in which everything is delightful and see how many people buy it. All novels set in the future are dystopic; even novels about supposed utopias are dystopic (there’s something creepy – mechanical and brain-dead – about the whole notion of a utopia). But we’ve had lots of dystopic fiction, and I wanted to cover an area that’s been under-explored. The economic implosion of 2008 meant I felt the earth move under my feet (as did everyone else who was paying any attention at all). As it also did for many others, that experience made me more interested in economics. But 2008 was mostly about what didn’t happen. The economy slumped but did not collapse. So I thought I’d describe what I didn’t live through, but almost lived through.
Is this like a new American horror story – the privileged and affluent having to live rough?
This isn’t a novel all about rich people. Most of the characters are middle-middle class, with one couple upper-middle. The family money is stuck – lodged with a 97-year-old patriarch who simply won’t die. But when our story begins, none of the characters in the younger generations have yet inherited anything.
That said, I did purposefully write about a family that had money somewhere, because you have to have money to lose it. If I wrote about poor people who stayed poor, no story. And I was certainly interested in exploring the gradual petulance-sliding-to-indignation-sliding-to-terror of first finding out you can’t afford imported olive oil any more and rapidly finding that you can’t afford your house either. Or for the one family member who does keep hold of a house, finding you can’t keep other people from taking it away from you because you don’t have a gun.
What does your story tell us about the bigger picture of America today and the values that people hold dear?
Values change depending on circumstances. By the time we get to 2047 in the novel, genuine hardship has completely transformed what Americans care about and what they regard as their real problems. A range of difficulties are luxuries of prosperity: short-of-crippling neuroses such as anxiety, gluten intolerance, eating disorders, gender dysphoria… In my farther flung future, they all disappear. In fact, my young people of 2047 have no time for the foodie obsession of previous generations, and when they get together simply swab tinned beans with tortillas from a giant metal bowl on the floor.
Do you feel the work could be predictive in any way… meaning, could you see this happening?
Sure, though as I said, I’m not predicting; I’m telling a story, one I hope reads as plausible. But even Donald Trump has talked about ‘renegotiating’ the national debt – which is another way of expressing default. The nationalisation of gold held in private hands was already undertaken by Franklin D Roosevelt in 1933. In fact, I didn’t do anything in this novel economically that was impossible.
Who are the main characters in the story?
Thirteen when we begin, Willing is what I would call a ‘stealth protagonist’. You don’t realise at first that he will grow to become the dominant sensibility in the novel, and completely take over as the sole point of view in the second section. I’ve never experimented with this emergent main character before, and it was fun.
Enola (‘Nollie’, an anagram of ‘Lionel’) Mandible ended up being more of a major player in the book than I had planned at first. She was originally going to stay on the side as an opportunity to make fun of myself. (She’s a writer, she’s obnoxious, she’s an exercise junkie long past the age that any of that jumping up and down is going to make her more attractive.) But I came to treasure her relationship with Willing. I like the closeness that builds between Willing and his great aunt, despite the vast difference in age.
The only other appearances Lionel Shriver will make in Australia are as part of the Festival of Dangerous Ideas at Sydney Opera House, Melbourne Writers Festival and Brisbane Writers Festival.
Presented by Byron Writers Festival and NORPA. Tuesday 6 September, 6.30pm. NORPA at Lismore City Hall.
