A Timely Timon...

I went to see the National Theatre's dazzling re-imagination of Timon of Athens last weekend. Director Nicholas Hytner has worked wonders with what has traditionally been regarded as one of Shakespeare's problem plays, bringing it radically up to date by setting it in the City at the time of the financial crash. Timon's vertiginous descent from millionaire philanthropist to street dweller, the loss of confidence in his friends far greater than the loss of wealth and status, is heartrendingly portrayed by Simon Russell Beale in what many regard as the performance of his career. Deborah Findlay, playing the gender-reversed role of his faithful steward, never puts a foot wrong.

In writing terms, there was a lot to learn. It reminded me once again of  what a two-way street the creative process is: you need to be generous as an author, to allow a theatre director, or a theatre audience, or a reader to bring their own imagination and experience to bear upon your work, as that is what keeps it fresh and relevant - and how relevant and fresh this Timon was. Don't hog the act of creativity to yourself - give your readers some of the information that they need, but leave enough space for them to set to work themselves, because in that way they take possession of what you have written and it becomes special to them. Make them put two and two together, often; don't hand them four on a plate. See that they do the maths.

Another thing that Hytner's production so brilliantly achieved was to particularise the general. In locating Timon's downfall in such recognisable territory as our recent history, he made the dilemmas and challenges, the twists and turns , instantly recognisable to us, so that the process of identification was extremely easy. This is one of the most important tasks for a writer - to make your reader experience things as your protagonist does, and because of the relevance of the setting of the production, it was easy for us to suffer as Timon suffered.

Try to make your work as relevant and roomy as possible, so that it is familiar and accessible, but see if you can retain a certain creative elusiviness at the same time, to keep your reader guessing. Then pat your head and rub your tummy too!

Why the Magic isn't Working

I'm in the throes of reading A Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy, which I won't manage to finish in time for my reading group tomorrow -- sorry, girls. I set out enthusiastically and found myself absolutely gripped by the description of the lives and living conditions of Hispanic women in 1960s America, where the chief currency was sex and violence.  Connie's shocking journey from a life which is bearable, but only just, to life in a lunatic asylum that is completely intolerable, was a difficult but rewarding read.

I'm losing momentum at the moment and what is slowing me down is this: the book takes a sudden leap into the parallel universe of a strange Utopian society set 150 years in the future. I'm sure that this will provide Piercey with a fantastic vehicle for exploring the shortcomings of our own world, but for me it has lost resonance.  It seems hypothetical. I'm uncomfortable with fantasy writing because it is a fictional format that is often governed by expedience : the writer needs something to happen to resolve an issue in the story and hey presto - it does. There is less creative tension between form and plot and the adversities facing the characters seem artificial.

What I'm trying to say in a rather convoluted way is that I find it difficult to identify with fantasy writing and the fantasy element in A Woman At the Edge of Time.  Perhaps I find it hard to suspend my disbelief, but I am conscious of a growing barrier between me and the story. I may plough onto the end, but on the other hand, I may not.

This is something you should bear in mind when you are writing - it is really important that your readers are able to identify with your characters and the situation in which they find themselves, so pick on people and plots they will recognise and respond to, otherwise you will lose them, and all your hard work will result in a shrug of the shoulders and a feeling of - whatever!