Peter Hitchens on 'The Valley of Unknowing'

The distinguished author and journalist, Peter Hitchens, was once a correspondent in Moscow, and is old enough to have some experience of what life was like in the now-vanished Soviet Bloc (it remains to be seen if Mr Putin will succeed in re-inventing it...) Last Sunday, in his regular blog for the Daily Mail's on-line edition, Peter wrote about The Valley of Unknowing, which is set in the former East Germany. Coincidentally he bought his copy from a small shop near Gloucester Road tube station, close to where I lived for many years before moving to the burbs. I have a feeling I know which shop it was too (most likely The Slightly Foxed Bookshop). Anyway, he has some very nice things to say about the novel, and some thoughtful comments on the place and time that inspired it. You can read the piece here.

My notebook goes on holiday - without me

It is common for writers to follow in the footsteps of their more august predecessors, either literally or metaphorically. It’s less usual for their notebooks to do it for them. But that’s just what mine has done. The original footsteps are those of Robert Louis Stevenson, he of Treasure Island and Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde fame. When the great Scot was still in his twenties he spent twelve days hiking through the Cévennes, a wild and beautiful region of Languedoc, along the southern edge of the Massif Central. The result was a highly readable travelogue entitled  Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes (1878) , the donkey being Modestine, who emerged as one of the more vivid  – and indeed sympathetic – characters in the book. (It seems a good few of the locals were decidedly wary of the RLS, and kept their distance.)

I was near the Cévennes earlier this summer, and took with me a notebook, as I always do when travelling. It was rather a nice one - a gift - leather bound with a hard cover. I wrote many notes for The Valley of Unknowing in it, and I had I stuck to things literary, I might never have lost it. Unfortunately on this trip I used it to write down directions to a nearby supermarket (and a shopping list, for shame!) and then left it in the trolley, on one of those little fold-out seats used to torture small children.  I could never have suspected that the next person to use that particular trolley would be a man from the Cévennes, who makes a living taking visitors through the region on donkeys; but that’s just what Christian Brochier does.  (I am told that his donkeys are as lovely as Modestine was, but that the locals are now a good deal friendlier.  Nor are you required, as RLS was, to share a bed with any of them – unless you want to.)

A few weeks later, the notebook turned up again in England with a card from M. Brochier, in which he wrote: “I thank you for this moment of poesy and adventure in the great temple of consumption. I felt like a detective trying to resolve the question of the lost booklet – important for somebody, probably for a book or a film – and was especially puzzled by the map with the shops.”

I think the great writer would have understood this reaction very well. And I offer M Brochier my sincere thanks for his kindness.

A new slant on 'The Valley'

The new Vintage paperback edition of The Valley of Unknowing comes out just after Easter. This is the new cover, front and back (below). I don't know whether this photograph was taken in Dresden or not, but I do know it was taken in the former GDR. At my suggestion the figure in the foreground was 'enhanced' - which in this case means made to look less fat.

If only life could be Photoshopped as easily as a black & white photograph, we'd all be much better off. Or would we ...?

Interview with a Siren

I recently did a Q&A with the up-and-coming American book blog Sirens of Suspense, which is run by the distinctly siren-like Chantelle Osman. Rather than focus on any one book, she was interested in looking at all of them, and seeing how they all fitted together. The result is below:

Unlike many authors with a historical bent, you don't specialize in one era. Your books are all very different, in both theme and location—pre-WWII Berlin (The Einstein Girl), Revolutionary Russia (Zoia's Gold), Communist East Germany (The Valley of Unknowing) — and require a lot of research. Tell me a little bit about what inspires your choices? Are these periods of history that have always interested you? Do you have a wish-list of places/times you'd like to visit with your work?

I don’t deliberately choose a setting, and then look for a story that will work there – at least not consciously. The premise comes first, and in developing that premise I will set the story in whatever times and places work best. That said, modern European history took up most of my studies at university, and I’ve retained an interest in the subject ever since. I guess that, for me, places like Berlin or Dresden or Stockholm are close enough to be familiar, and yet just far enough away to feel challenging and different. But if a good story idea came along that demanded a contemporary non-European setting, then that’s what I would write.

I don’t have a wish-list of places to use as a setting. It would be nice to have that degree of control over my literary destiny! But, as I said, I’m pretty much at the service of the story, and go where it tells me to go.

Your latest novel, The Valley of Unknowing, features protagonist Bruno Krug who embodies both the author's dream come true and worst nightmare. He garnered great fame and success with his debut novel, but has been unable to write anything half as good since. Was it emotionally challenging to put yourself in his shoes? Can you talk a little bit about creating Bruno, and also a bit about the political nature of creative endeavours in Communist East Germany?

The fact that Bruno is a novelist made writing about him more enjoyable for me that it might otherwise have been. I got to exorcise some demons, and to draw on my own experiences as a writer in developing his perspectives and attitudes – even though some of Bruno’s more literary reflections didn’t survive beyond the first draft! Bruno is in part a product of his childhood experiences (his most famous book is called The Orphans of Neustadt), and of German history; but his life as a writer also informs – or misinforms – his view of the world. In fact, Bruno can’t help but see his life as a living fiction; it’s almost the only way he can make any sense of it. (Some readers have pointed out that since The Valley of Unknowing is a novel, Bruno is right on the money, but I think you can be too clever about these things!)

Your father was an industrial chemist and your mother an officer in British Intelligence. What led you to the written word? Did your parents foster this love at an early age?

My parents were supportive of anything and everything I wanted to do; so it was always up to me. I was first drawn to the theatre, and it was in that area where I first tried my hand – very tentatively – at writing. I was at university then. I subsequently turned to prose fiction because working solo was really the only avenue open to me, my studies being over. Once I was on that road, I found it increasingly difficult to get off! Part of me still gets very excited, though, about the performing arts, because I love creative collaborations (at least, when they work!). I have co-written one play, which saw a number of successful fringe productions. I would write more, but I don’t think anyone would pay me to do it!

Every mystery/thriller author would probably kill (excuse the pun) to have a parent who was, for all intents and purposes, a spy. Is this as exciting as we all imagine? Did her work at all prompt the uncovering of secrets that is a common thread in your books?

For much of her career in intelligence, my mother worked alone behind the Iron Curtain without the protection of diplomatic immunity. This was highly unusual, especially for a young woman, and I think it was exciting for her, although not infrequently frightening as well. However, her story only became known to me when I was an adult. I suppose it is possible that years of obvious tact, and a certain guardedness about the past, may have influenced my outlook subliminally, but I’d probably have to go into psychoanalysis to know for sure! Certainly I am drawn to characters who don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. That much I can say.

Earlier in your career you collaborated with mystery writer Gary Humphreys for a series of books under the name Patrick Lynch which focused on developments medicine and biotechnology. Unlike those forward-looking novels, your more recent work ties to the past. What prompted this change?

I’ve always had an interest in science – another family trait, this time from my father’s side. The six Patrick Lynch novels were all built around nightmares; dramatic and disturbing events made possible by the advent of new biotechnologies or by Man’s (witting or unwitting) impact on the natural world. They were carefully researched and quite journalistic books. When I began to focus on my solo work, I suppose I was probably ready for a change of mood and a change of scene. Contemporary Sweden and revolutionary Russia were what came along (in Zoia’sGold); and that pretty much suited the bill. More historical novels followed from that, although The Valley of Unknowing, being set in the late 1980s, does not strictly qualify as ‘historical’ by the most common definition. I’m quite happy about that, actually.

What's coming next for you?

I have two writing projects for the New Year. I’m going to start drafting a book set in the immediate aftermath of the First World War. The starting point here has been some largely forgotten - but I think extraordinary – aspects of the conflict, and it’s going to be taking me into some dark territory. I may also be collaborating on a big screen adaptation of my previous novel The Einstein Girl, which was optioned last summer. It’s more than four years since I worked on that book, and the prospect of helping craft a screenplay is very enticing.

Casting call

I'm definitely not one of those writers who think much about how their work might unfold on screen - not unless I'm actually writing a screenplay (in which case, it's pretty much all I think about). Novels and movies both tell stories, and both usually contain dialogue, but that's where the overlap starts to run out. It is not the ultimate accolade of a novel that it be adapted for the screen, let alone that it be adapted successfully. For a novelist the undertaking can be fascinating and lucrative, but its success or failure usually has very little to do with the original material - and therefore very little to do with its creator.

Nonetheless, when the My Book, the Movie came calling, I couldn't resist the temptation to play producer for twenty minutes. The popular blog, which has been running for more than five years, asks novelists to 'dreamcast' the leading roles for a fantasy adaptation of their latest book, in this case The Valley of Unknowing.

As most real producers do, I started with the director, fixing on the rather in-demand Alexander Payne, whose recent credits include Sideways, About Schmidt and The Descendants. Well, I reckon if you are going to fantasize a perfect world, you might as make it as perfect as possible.

Who is my ideal Bruno Krug? The truth is, I don't have one. The character already exists in my head, and I doubt that any perfect embodiment could ever exist outside it. On the other hand, there are some very talented actors out there whom I'd love to see having a go. Actors, especially great actors, always bring something all their own to a character. It's that sense of an extra dimension that makes the exercise thrilling for the original author, provided he has an open mind.

The whole fantastic exercise is here. 

The Page 69 Test

I was asked recently to take the increasingly infamous 'Page 69 Test' by Marshal Zeringue, the leading American book blogger. The test is simple: what happens on Page 69 of your latest novel? Is it representative of the rest of the rest of the book? Is there something on that page that would make the reader read on? So I agreed to have a go.

Is there some special significance to page 69s in contemporary literature, you might ask? Probably not, but looking at some previous Page 69s on that Blog, it's hard to avoid the impression that important development are usually in the offing. This is certainly the case in The Valley of Unknowing. In fact, in one sense Marshal has pretty much hit the jackpot.

The full piece can be found here...

Uneasy reading

Last week I was asked by the Writers Read and Campaign for the American Reader blogs to write something about the books I'm reading at the moment. These were Frederick Manning's The Middle Parts of Fortune and Neil Hanson's The Unknown Soldier - both extraordinary books, which I'd recommend to almost anyone (although definitely not children!). 

Meanwhile, The Valley of Unknowing has just come out in North America. USA Today listed it as one of their five weekly 'New & Notable' books. Is this my novel's proverbial fifteen minutes of fame? We shall see.

Independents pick 'The Valley'

Every month the American Booksellers' Association (ABA) asks independent booksellers to pick 20 about-to-be-published books for its 'Great Reads' list, covering all genres and types. I learned last week that The Valley of Unknowing has made the list, which goes out to ABA members, together with a brief review, in a few weeks time. It's another welcome vote of confidence in the book from across the pond, and should encourage independent stores to stock it in time for Christmas. I'm told the big chains take note as well.

A positive nod from any quarter is welcome, but verdicts that go straight to the heart of the retail market are perhaps doubly valuable, in that they can improve the physical visibility of a title - although the growing importance of on-line shopping is perhaps eroding that advantage.

In any case the full list is:

Fiction

A Possible Life: A Novel in Five Parts, by Sebastian Faulks
The Valley of Unknowing, by Philip Sington
Raised From the Ground: A Novel, by Jose Saramago, Margaret Jull Costa (Trans.)
Life Among Giants: A Novel, by Bill Roorbach 
City of Dark Magic: A Novel, by Magnus Flyte
Hand for a Hand, by T. Frank Muir
The Confidant: A Novel, by Helene Gremillon, Alison Anderson (trans.)
The Black Box, by Michael Connelly
Dear Life: Stories, by Alice Munro
The Valley of the Shadow: A Cornish Mystery, by Carola Dunn
The Boy in the Snow: An Edie Kiglatuk Mystery, by M.J. McGrath
Cold Quiet Country, by Clayton Lindemuth

Non-fiction
Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power, by Jon Meacham
Constantine the Emperor, by David Potter
Heads in Beds: A Reckless Memoir of Hotels, Hustles, and So-Called Hospitality, by Jacob Tomsky
Memoir of the Sunday Brunch, by Julia Pandl
The Great Pearl Heist: London’s Greatest Thief and Scotland Yard’s Hunt for the World’s Most Valuable Necklace, by Molly Caldwell Crosby
Hands-On Healing Remedies: 150 Recipes for Herbal Balms, Salves, Oils, Liniments & Other Topical Therapies, by Stephanie Tourles
Because I Said So!: The Truth Behind the Myths, Tales, and Warnings Every Generation Passes Down to Its Kids, by Ken Jennings

Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths, by Nancy Marie Brown

Star treatment?

A long-established aspect of the American publishing scene is the so-called ‘pre-pub’ review. These are not reviews written, as you might think, before the first double scotch of the day (many, I wouldn’t wonder, are written after it...); they are reviews published in the months running up to publication. Their target audience is not the general reading public, but retailers, who order books in advance, libraries and book reviewers in the wider media. Some pre-pubs, especially those that offer a neat summary of a book’s plot, are read by film scouts on the look-out for attractive adaptation opportunities, although this is less significant than it was twenty years ago, when novels were optioned for screen development more frequently than they are today. Nonetheless, strongly positive pre-pubs can help a book get noticed in what remains a very crowded marketplace, even if, by themselves, they’re no guarantee.

Among the four pre-pub reviewing journals - Kirkus Reviews, Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, and Booklist- it is Kirkus that authors and publishers most fear. Its slogan is ‘Life’s too short to read bad books’, which pretty much tells you all you need to know. Three years ago Kirkus briefly closed before re-opening under new ownership, its apparent demise reportedly toasted by a number of literary agents in New York.

Kirkus, like the other journals, awards a star to the books it most likes. Although it has been generally pretty positive about my previous outings in the US, it has hitherto only awarded a star once, to Omega, way back in 1997. Omega was the second Patrick Lynch novel to be published stateside, and went on to be a bestseller there. The second star turned up earlier this week, for The Valley of Unknowing. ‘Holy catfish!’ my American publisher declared. And he should know.

"A compelling story of jealousy and betrayal behind the Iron Curtain. Personal and political limitations shape this subtle novel... which balances serious and menacing questions of moral compromise with ironic comments on Actually Existing Socialism... Atmospheric, poignant, witty, but mournful too, Sington's novel cleverly considers what might have been the back story to real life tragedies.”

Courting the grey vote

This month everyone has been celebrating the Diamond Jubilee, including my son Leo who marked the occasion by making a Union Jack at his day nursery. When I asked him what the Jubilee was about he said: "It's for the Queen, because she's been sitting on a chair for a hundred years." Later he asked me if the Queen was allowed to get off the chair when she needed the loo. I replied that nobody knew, and that such secrets were all part of the aura of mystery surrounding the monarchy.

In the midst of all this media focus on our older folk and their contribution, I receive my first ever review in The Oldie, Richard Ingrams's august organ. Whether this is a comment on my own advancing years, or that of the narrator in The Valley of Unknowing, I cannot say, but I'll be very happy if my book gets the grey vote. After all, I'm going a little grey myself...

"Philip Sington has managed something quite remarkable... a flawless, gripping and penetrating depiction of life in the former East Germany, wrapped up as a literary thriller in every sense of that expression... His feeling for not just time and place, but atmosphere and way of life is perfect in a way no other Western writer, not even John le Carré, has achieved."

Krushchev's footwear

Uta aged 8 (third row, right) in the uniform of the Thälmann Pioneers. (Click to enlarge)

I've just written a piece for the Vintage Books blog on how I came to write The Valley of Unknowing, and why. Needless to say, if I hadn't met and married a former resident (see above), it never would have happened. The piece begins:

I was a child of the Cold War. To be more precise, I was a child of a nasty cold snap during the Cold War. I was born the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, when exploding cigars were a serious hazard, and when feisty Russian leaders waved their shoes at the UN General Assembly to demonstrate the superiority of Soviet cobbling. 

Now read on...

http://www.vintage-books.co.uk/blog/from-the-author/PhilipSington/?revision#.T7TGaTVvEyM.twitter

The Financial Times reviews 'The Valley of Unknowing'

This Saturday's Financial Times contains a very nice review of The Valley of Unknowing by David Evans. I'm pretty sure the FT has never reviewed a book of mine before, but it's certainly been worth the wait. It concludes:

"The Valley of Unknowing is simply superb: affecting but never melodramatic, literary but never less than thrilling. Though Krug is self-pitying, he wins our sympathy at the tragic denouement, when we learn how he has also suffered under communism. His story, like the manuscript he grudgingly admires, is “truthfully, tenderly drawn”."

You can find the whole review here: http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/95d683e8-896f-11e1-85af-00144feab49a.html#axzz1tKACbzGe

Mariella and the Stasi

In between yet another plumbing crisis, a mercy dash to St George’s hospital, and the sudden closure of our one-year-old’s day nursery, I managed to slip away to Broadcasting House to record an interview with Mariella Frostrup, the host of Open Book on Radio 4. Also taking part in a discussion about The Valley of Unknowing and the literary impact of the Stasi files, was Anna Funder, author of the prize-winning non-fiction bestseller Stasiland – although hers was a disembodied voice emanating from a studio in New York. Spookily enough, Australian Anna’s most recent book, a novel, is set in Berlin in 1932, just like The Einstein Girl, and is based on the life of an actually existing woman. It came as something of a relief to discover that the woman in question - and indeed the rest of her story - had nothing to do with the great physicist.

As expected, I thought of many brilliant and memorable things to say in response to the Mariella’s questions - but only after the whole thing was over and I was tramping back down a rainy Regent Street towards the Tube station. Oh well...

The interview, suitably edited, will be broadcast on Radio 4 this Sunday 22^nd April at 4pm; and again the following Thursday 26^th at 3.30pm. Details of the whole edition can be found here:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01gf4lv

A Podcast of the programme will be available for download soon after the first broadcast, here:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/openbook

Late that evening, after further urgent plumbing consultations and an untimely instance of projectile vomiting from our youngest, I closed a deal for the North American rights to The Valley of Unknowing. The venerable firm of W.W. Norton will publish the book in November, which is quite soon in the normal run of these things. Norton is reputedly a classy operation, and the editor is something of a New York legend. I would have celebrated on the spot, but it was almost midnight by this time, and I was in danger of collapsing at my desk. I finally collapsed on the floor beside my son's bed ten minutes later.

The Times reviews 'The Valley of Unknowing'

The official press date for The Valley of Unknowing isn't until the 19th April; so I was quite surprised to find a review in last Saturday's edition of The Times. The reviewer is the distinguished journalist Peter Millar, who, as well as being a successful novelist and historian, reported from all over Eastern Europe for Reuters and for a range of British broadsheets throughout the 1980s. (In East Germany he earned the distinction of being arrested by the secret police and deported). Had I known in advance that such an authority was to pronounce on The Valley, I might not have slept too well. Fortunately, I didn't.

In any case, the review is a generous one by any standards, calling the book 'remarkable', and praising its authenticity (for which my wife Uta, her family and friends can take much of the credit). It concludes like this:

"Having lived in East Germany, I am astonished by Sington's pitch perfect recreation of that society, from the daily shortages to the veil of suspicion that shrouded all dealings with anyone other than close friends, and the hypocrisy of the fraudulent socio-political game almost everyone was forced to play... Build[ing] towards a relentless climax, this is a brilliant, evocative and accurate novel which turns a love story and a chronicle of human weakness and self-deception into a gripping, hard-nosed authentic thriller."

Author in a tight spot

Writers have been known to adopt desperate measures to get a little peace and quiet. But though my house has never been more full of people – small children with snot and temperatures, an au pair, a recuperating parent with a bewildering pharmaceutical regime, and an endless parade of tradesmen – that’s not what I’m up to in these photographs. Things aren’t that bad, not quite.

I’m actually in the process of fitting insulation beneath a section of roof, rendered highly inaccessible by a recently added stud wall within. Why my Albanian builders (and their British overseers) didn’t do this for me, before the stud wall was built, is for them to explain. But, fed up with corner-cutting and delay, I decided to let my friend Heiko, who knows an immense amount about this sort of thing, take on the job instead. The only problem was that Heiko – who was stuck underground for hours during the 7/7 terror attacks, in a packed rush-hour train – suffers from bouts of claustrophobia. So I decided to help. It turned out to be hot, dirty, suffocating work, but strangely satisfying once completed – not that I’m planning a second foray any time soon.

Actually I’ve always liked the idea of writers having a manual trade, or at least being good with their hands. The notion of the novelist as a pure intellectual, spinning tales in the splendid isolation of a rural retreat, is unattractive to me. I like my artists to get their hands dirty, and to interact with the physical world as directly as possible. That’s probably why Bruno Krug, the central character in The Valley of Unknowing – it would be inaccurate to call him a hero – is a man who writes for a living and plumbs on the side (though it was once the other way around).

Actually, I could do with Bruno’s plumbing skills right now, because the Balkan bloke who came to fit up the new bathroom was something of a let-down. I suppose if he wrote good poetry or something, that would make up for his professional deficiencies. But it would have to be very, very good.

Two views of The Valley

Hot from the design department at Vintage Books, comes some new concept artwork for The Valley of Unknowing. It makes for quite a contrast from the previous attempt (see below), and I've given it the thumbs up.Something like this will go on the bound proofs, and doubtless there will be more tweaks before the final version appears on the first edition.

I don't think the designers had an easy time with this one. 1980s East Germany was a place of many arresting images, but the fashions were atrocious and the backdrops either soulless or decaying. I like to think The Valley of Unknowing is quite a vibrant story (love, sex, death and plumbing - all play a part), and that's hard to convey in such an apparently gloomy setting. I sent over a disk crammed with 'inspirational' images, but I was never confident they would help. All-in-all, I think this is a good solution: the general feel of the image strikes me as Middle European (or at least European), and there is plenty of blood pumping through the deep red of the title.

As for the shout line, that too is up-for-grabs. In the end, we may not use one, relying instead on a past review or an endorsement. That would be my preference, because it would effectively kill two birds with one stone.

An (almost) exclusive preview...

This is the first cut of the video trailer for The Valley of Unknowing. The cover shown at the end is not the one Harvill Secker are actually planning to use. So we'll put the final artwork in as soon as it's ready. That aside, this is pretty much the finished product, bar the odd bit of enhancing and tweaking on some of the stills.

This video took very little time to make, unlike the last one. I am getting quite adept at splicing music, and this time there was no live footage to shoot.The edit was done on an Apple Mac using iMovie software - which, I have to say, is far from ideal, being a "time-based" system, rather than a "linear" one (like Final Cut or Adobe's Premier). This really makes a difference when you're trying to cut precisely to music. On the other hand iMovie has some very nice bells and whistles, exports with ease, and usually comes free with the computer, as opposed to costing hundreds of pounds. So you can't really complain.

By the way, if you happen to be in Germany, you may have to download this video from the TrailerSpy web site. The download takes slightly longer, but at least there are no annoying pop-up ads to contend with.

http://www.trailerspy.com/trailer/15837/THE-VALLEY-OF-UNKNOWING

PS - I owe a big thank you to Derya, our multi-talented German au pair, who supplied the computer and the skills to work it.

Delivery on delivery

The month of March passed in a blur for me. With a new addition to the family expected at the beginning of April – and, in fact, necessarily turning up ten days early – I found myself in the unusual situation of working to a de facto deadline. The task in hand was the completion of the third draft of The Valley of Unknowing. This I managed in the final hour of the final day before our trip to the maternity wing of Kingston Hospital. The baby was delivered safely and rather fast the following afternoon. Uta and I are both thrilled with her, as is our three-year-old Leo, who has been looking forward to Big Brother status for months. The new book’s health (and reception) will take a lot longer to assess.
Last month also saw two more bookings for the diary. In May I’m going back to the German capital for a friendly interrogation by the Berlin Intercultural Reading Groups, an admirably organised network of literary Germans who like to read their English novels in the original. In July, here in London, I’m sharing a platform with the novelist Pat Barker at The Royal Society. An event has been organised there on science and literature by the British Society for the History of Science. I always enjoy visiting Berlin, and Pat Barker is a writer I hugely admire. So I’m looking forward very much to both occasions.

As if all this was not excitement enough, The Einstein Girl is to be translated into Macedonian. I must admit, I didn’t know Macedonia had its own language (foolishly, I assumed they spoke either Greek or Serbo-Croat); so I am a marginally richer in the knowledge department, as well as in the bank balance department.