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newbooks talks to Melissa Katsoulis author of Telling Tales
Why do you write?
Because people ask me and I’m too polite to say no. But also because you can do it in your pyjamas while eating sardines out of the tin.
Where and when do you read?
Wherever and whenever there is enough light: It’s my job as a reviewer and also my joy.
Which author did you most want to be when you were younger?
Joyce Lankester Brisley, creator of the incomparable Milly-Molly-Mandy
Which book would you take with you if you were stranded on a desert island?
Moby-Dick. More than a novel.
Which book do you wish you had written?
Edward St Aubyn’s Some Hope – although I’m glad I haven’t lived the life behind it.
Do you always finish a book or are there any that you haven't been able to finish (and why)?
Most of the books I read are for review and so I have to finish them but sometimes there’s something I kind of love but can’t get to the end of. Gormenghast is one - I don’t know why.
Which famous author would you most associate your own writing with?
Tolstoy, Shakespeare – the usual suspects.
Are there any books that have really influenced your latest book?
No – that is why I wrote a history of literary hoaxes. Unbelievably, no one has really attempted it before yet it constitutes an incredible parallel history of literature and features so many mad characters.
Which is better - writing or reading?
Reading – I subscribe to the thesis that a writer is simply someone who finds writing particularly difficult.
Most embarrassing moment?
When I was sub editing at The Times I let a reference to “the famous highwayman Ben Turpin” go into the paper.
What do you know now you wish you'd known when you were a teenager?
Nothing. I knew it all then. Much more than I know now.
What is your unashamed luxury?
My husband.
What does music mean to you?
Highs, lows and memories.
Your current guilty secret?
There’s a little horse in my bed.
Religion or politics? Politics
Licquorice or chewing gum? Licquorice
Cats or dogs? Cats
Tea or coffee? Tea
Cinema or theatre? Neither
Bridges or tunnels? Tunnels
Porsche or BMW? BMW
Paper clips or staples? Paper clips – so versatile
TV or radio? Radio
America or Australia? America
City flat or rural hideaway? Rural hideaway
Black or blue? Black
Denim or linen? Linen
Starter or dessert? Pudding.
Pop or rock? Rock
Rock or classical? Rock
newbooks website interview with Rick Gekoski
Your new book is a bibliomemoir, where did this description come from?
I made it up, though I note with chagrin two uses of it prior to mine on the net, both used to describe a memoir about books. I use it to mean something more complicated than that, something about the intersection between reading and being, in which what we read influences who we are, and who we are influences what and how we read. But I don’t wish to give a definition. If you want to know what I mean by a bibliomemoir, read Outside of a Dog.Your bibliomemoir covers 25 books, were there others that nearly made the cut, that were formative in other ways?
Loads. And the process of selection was unconscious, to a degree. I started with 37 books, and was surprised that some of them failed to make the cut. I had a whole chapter written about Banville’s The Sea, which was the winner when I judged the Man Booker in 2005, but I was never happy with it, and binned it. I don’t know why Conrad didn’t get in, he was very important to me. And Joyce. I suspect I could have gone on and on, but the book that emerged felt right, and you have to honour that even when you don’t know why.Why do you write?
I don’t know, quite. I have a few things I want to explore, and to say, and I want to say them as accurately and arrestingly as I can. I don’t know if I would describe myself, simply, as “a writer,” though I would like to. But every few years a book seems to happen to me, or in me. The process of getting it out, and right, is difficult, harrowing sometimes, but the only thing worse than doing it is not doing it.Where and when do you read?
All the time, and anywhere. I read in the bath, and in the street. My books get wet. I walk into lamp posts.Which book would you take with you if you were stranded on a desert island?
I have though about this a lot, and I have no idea. Could I take the Encyclopaedia Britannica please?
What book(s) did you read to your children at bedtime?
Roald Dahl, all of them. I liked them as much as the kids. Dr. Seuss, terrific. The Pooh books. Lots of others I don’t remember. And I made up stories for them as well.
Which book do you wish you had written?
My next one.Which is better - writing or reading?
Reading is a hell of a lot more fun. Writing – or having written – is more satisfying.You are a rare book dealer by trade. What book or works have you always wanted to find?
I want desperately to find Et Tu Healy, a broadside poem written by Joyce when he was nine, of which no copy has been located. (See my article about this in Granta 105, and Radio 4 programme in August). Both can be found on my website, www.gekoski.co.ukBeyond financial considerations, why do you think people derive so much pleasure from old and rare books?
Financial considerations are the least of it. For a real collector, books have a crackle and pop that derives from being the real thing, the first appearance of something significant. When books are inscribed by the author, or corrected by him, when you see an original literary letter or manuscript, it is thrilling – if you are that way inclined. I am.A good deal more about me – more than you may wish to know – can be found at www.gekoski.co.uk
