John Banville had an honest admission for future novelists at the George Washington University: The writing process never gets easier.
“I’m afraid I have to tell you it gets more interesting, it gets more intense—it gets harder. The analogy I always make is that the world is round, but language is square. Trying to fit the two of them is very difficult,” he said.
Although being a writer is replete with mystery and uncertainty, the beauty of language makes the struggle worth it, Mr. Banville told an audience at the Marvin Center Amphitheater on Wednesday. He joined the GW community for a conversation with writer-in-residence Molly McCloskey as part of the English department's Jenny McKean Moore Reading Series, which also brought D.C. crime novelist George Pelecanos to campus. Mr. Banville offered students advice on the difficult but rewarding profession and discussed his relationship to writing.
The award-winning, Irish-born author has 16 novels and numerous writing accolades to his name. He has also written several plays, a short-story collection, a nonfiction piece and seven crime books under the pseudonym Benjamin Black, and will soon release a new work in the voice of Raymond Chandler’s famed private eye Philip Marlowe. After penning the adaptation for his 2005 book “The Sea,” Mr. Banville can add “screenwriter” to his repertoire.
Yet, before he starts a project, he always sits at his desk with a cup of decaf espresso. A moment of uncertainty sinks in, and he thinks, “I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this.” The feeling doesn’t last too long, fortunately—by the end of the day, he becomes completely engrossed in his writing.
“It’s like snakes and ladders: You move a word in the first sentence of the paragraph and everything changes. It’s this wobbly, amoebic thing you’re working with, and eventually at the end of the day, it stops wobbling and becomes fixed,” he said.
At the end of each evening, Mr. Banville said he becomes “word-blind” and completely written out. He has a glass of wine and prepares for the next day of work.
“But that’s a wonderful life—what better thing could I be doing? I’ve always said the greatest invention of humankind is the sentence,” he said.
Ms. McCloskey, who was chosen to be this year’s writer-in-residence through the Jenny McKean Moore Fund, lived in Ireland for decades and is a close friend of Mr. Banville. She wondered if he regards himself as an Irish writer. Mr. Banville admitted he is averse to sentimentalities about his home country and explained he instead prides himself on using the “wonderful style of English” developed in Ireland. He has always loved the possibility that writing could be well crafted “like a chair or table,” and said he tries to make books that will garner the admiration of people who don’t read frequently.
One attribute of Mr. Banville’s books is that they often describe ordinary objects with a sense of wonder, Ms. McCloskey pointed out. Mr. Banville shared that part of the reason writing holds such allure for him is because he is constantly awed by humanity and feels a need to record his “unfailing amazement in the face of the mundane world.” When asked if he’s ever abandoned a project, Mr. Banville answered he doesn’t believe he ever will because he views books as infinitely malleable.
As he has grown older, the seasoned writer said his dichotomous relationship with the writing process both baffles and fascinates him.
“I don’t know how I do it. When I was young, I thought I knew what I was doing and that I was in control. Now I work in total confusion. I work in the dark. Each sentence somehow generates the next,” he said.
The candor of Mr. Banville’s discussion was inspiring for senior Caroline Walsh, who is minoring in creative writing.
“I love his ability to convey this double-sided feeling to all his books and he has a great sense of humor. He was really well-spoken and eloquent, and I just think he had interesting, realistic things to say about the writing process,” she said.
Mr. Banville left the GW community with a sense of his dedication to writing, despite what a difficult business it is.
“Language wants to have its say,” he said. “It’s a ‘Jacob and the angel’ struggle—but Jacob is human and the angel is angelic. Language is the most beautiful thing one can struggle with, so it’s always rewarding.”