Katharine Norbury trained as a film editor
with the BBC and has worked extensively in film and television drama. She is a
graduate of the Creative Writing MA programme at UEA. The Fish Ladder is her first book. It was
longlisted for the Guardian First Book Award and was a book of the year in the
Telegraph, Independent and Guardian. Katharine was chosen by the Observer as
their Rising Star in non-fiction for 2015. The book has recently been
longlisted for the 2016 Wainwright Prize for nature and UK travel writing and
nominated as a National Reading Group Day 2016 real life read.
She lives in London with her family.
Katharine Norbury was abandoned as a baby in a Liverpool
convent. Raised by loving adoptive parents, she grew into a wanderer,
drawn by the beauty of the British countryside. One summer, following the
miscarriage of a much-longed-for child, Katharine sets out – accompanied by her
nine-year-old daughter, Evie – with the idea of following a river from the sea
to its source. The luminously observed landscape provides both a constant and a
context to their expeditions. But what begins as a diversion from grief soon evolves
into a journey to the source of life itself, when a chance circumstance forces
Katharine to the door of the woman who gave her up all those years ago.
“What a delight! The Fish Ladder is a luminous
sort of book, beautifully written, darting here and there like a kingfisher
over a stream. A beautiful, strange, intoxicating and utterly unique
story ” – Philip Pullman
“There is much to learn from The Fish Ladder about
how the memoir can tell a story as well as be a meditation; how language can be
both profound and sensuous. It's an unsentimental but extraordinary exploration
of how we use narrative to understand our place in the world” – Amit
Chaudhuri
We’d like to thank Katharine for taking part in A Conversation…
and send our congratulations for the recent Wainwright longlisting. We wish her
all the very best for the forthcoming film and sequel which we are sure will be
as successful as The Fish Ladder.
Tell us of your journey as a writer
To be honest, I don’t think of myself as a writer. I have written – one
book, published when I was 50. I am writing. But I don’t define myself by the
medium. Rather, I am interested in certain things, and in communicating
thoughts and ideas. In the case of The Fish Ladder, creating a work of
prose/life-writing seemed to be the best way of realising what was happening at
that time. It began as a very private project, an account of one summer spent
with my young daughter in Wales but, as the summer progressed, it became
apparent that the story might have a wider “reach” than that of my immediate
family. The reason I was keeping a notebook that year was because I find
digital photography difficult to master, believe it or not, and so when
pharmacists stopped developing photographs I was obliged to find another way to
“capture the moment”. Moments of joy – when a cloud passes over the sun, or a
fish leaps out of the water. Or moments of transcendence – when your child
smiles at you from a rock pool, bucket and net in hand, an orange crab
wriggling on a nylon line. And so it was that I picked up a pen. The Fish
Ladder is an “origins” story borne out of the notion of following a river from
the sea to its source and this journey eventually became a metaphor for a more
personal quest to discover who my natural family are and to contemplate the
role of the adoptive family, with the landscape providing a counterpoint to the
human story.
How do you see your role as a writer and what do you like most about it?
To bear witness? To explore the world. To ask questions. And I wouldn’t
necessarily say I like the role though I find it rewarding and consider it
essential.
Anything written has the potential to withstand millennia – the clay
tablets of the Epic of Gilgamesh, Homer’s Odyssey, Beowulf. More recently,
witness accounts such as Anne Frank’s diary have adjusted the moral compass of
whole nations. There is an inherent moral weight on the writer.
Much of what we, as a reading public, know about environmental debate
comes to us not through scientists or politicians but through writers such as
Bill McKibben and Al Gore in the United States; Tim Winton, Verity Burgmann,
Tim Flannery in Australia; Mark Cocker, Rob Cowen, Melissa Harrison, Kathleen
Jamie, Robert Macfarlane, Michael McCarthy, Richard Kerridge and George Monbiot
in the UK. So writers are at the forefront of disseminating knowledge.
Freedom of expression is important to me and I have watched it being
enthusiastically and voluntarily forfeited – in university “safe spaces” and in
ideas about “cultural appropriation” to name but a couple of recent examples.
The writer must therefore be robust, with a rhinoceros skin, and they must
reserve the right to offend in order to articulate the ideas that motivate
them. And we must all trust our readers to be the judge of whether what is
written has any value or not, and not forget to disentangle the views of the
writer with those expressed by their characters. And accept that, as with
Pandora’s box, this position opens the lid on all kinds of demons!
The role of the storyteller has been central to human experience since
we first sat around the fire entertaining and reassuring ourselves through the
long dark nights, questioning our actions, and learning from them. It is with
good reason that stories have been elevated and safeguarded throughout the ages
by librarians, parents, teachers, priests and shamans. However, it is important
that we don’t lose sight of the true role of those guardians of “story”. The
stories are there so we can learn from the experiences of those who have gone
before us, so we can think about complex moral issues in a truly safe
environment, and also, to be entertained. That isn’t necessarily the impression
that you get when you look at the atrocities committed in the name of certain
books today and throughout the ages.
Have you ever created a character who you dislike but find yourself
empathising with?
This question had been crossed out although I think it is relevant to
the life writer. There is no imperative for the reader to like a character in a
work of memoir or biography. Some readers have loved the “I” of The Fish
Ladder, others have taken against her/me. But I don’t think it matters. One of
the least likeable characters in literature is Emma Bovary, but who among those
of us who have met her hasn’t put their fingers to their lips, and read through
tears and gasps as Emma stuffs her mouth full of arsenic powder after reducing
her family to penury over curtains she couldn’t afford and the bills of her
student lover? (I think it was the draper’s bill that finally tipped her over
the edge!). It’s the human condition that we empathise with – the “there but
for the grace of God go I”.
Last year, GW organised #diverseauthorday. What has been your experience
of writing about diverse characters?
The Fish Ladder is, at one level, a travelogue and there is a tradition
in travel writing to respect the privacy of your fellow traveller. The people I
met along the way ranged in age, class, religion, race, nationality and I
simply presented them all as they appeared to me, while respecting their
relative privacy. (So I didn’t say so-and-so had a nose like a melon, for
example!) As a rule of thumb I don’t say anything about anyone that I wouldn’t
be prepared to say to their face and in company! This is obviously a very
different state of affairs to that of the fiction writer – think of Dickens’
character studies for example – where the writer can wallow in
characterisation.
If you could be transported instantly, anywhere in the world, where
would you most like to spend your time writing? And why?
Oh. That’s two different questions. If I could go anywhere in the world
I’d very much like to go to Australia. But as to where I would like to write?
Proximity to mountains and the sea are ideal, as I think best when I am either
swimming or walking. The Llyn Peninsula, the English Lakes, Catalonia. But I
agree with Tim Winton who says that because he spends so much of his time
outside, he writes in an austere room that doesn’t even have a picture on the
wall, because a picture is a kind of window. Writing, for me, is an interior
experience and the less distractions the better. But I do need to walk and swim
in the gaps between writing so London (where I am now) isn’t the best place for
me to work as it is packed with distractions!
What is the one book you wish you had written?
My goodness. That is impossible, forgive me. Wishing you had
written something by someone else implies a desire to get the credit for having
done it! I think any kind of artistic endeavour is about paring down the ego,
not inflating it. I’m just glad there’s a wealth of good stuff out there to
enjoy! The book I read the most is the Odyssey of Homer translated by Richmond
Lattimore, and it is always at my bedside, but I have no desire to lay claim to
it!
What advice do you have for would be writers?
To work hard. To heed the lived experience of writers you admire. To
listen to Samuel Beckett, on failure, for example: “No matter, fail again. Fail
better.” Or Hemingway: “The only kind of writing is rewriting”. To learn to
accept criticism and see it for what it is. Your work can always be better. And
your critics can be wrong. So don’t ask a member of your family to give you
notes! Find someone you trust, a former school teacher, not your friends who
are simply going to say: darling it’s marvellous! It probably isn’t! And also,
to know when to walk away, and when something is finished.
What are you currently working on? What can we look forward to reading?
I am working on a screenplay of The Fish Ladder with the Irish filmmaker
Enda Hughes. And I am working on Book 2 of what is probably a trilogy, with The
Fish Ladder being Book 1. Another travelogue/memoir/landscape writing hybrid –
but I work slowly and in many drafts. Watch this space!
You can follow Katharine on Twitter: @KJNorbury
Thanks to Bloomsbury for the review copy.
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