Interview: Sue Peebles on The Death of Lomond Friel

The Death of Lomond Friel is the first novel by Scottish writer Sue Peebles,and was awarded the two major prizes for debut writing in Scotland, winning the First Book Award in the Scottish Mortgage Investment Trust 2011 Book Awards and named joint winner of the Saltire First Book Award 2010. Peebles had a career in academia and social work before becoming a full-time author. We spoke to her about her characters, influences on her work and why she ultimately couldn't ignore the 'writing bug'. 

What motivated you to write The Death of Lomond Friel, and what was the writing process like – was it a tough book or did it flow quite easily?

Writers are supposed to know all about motives, and I know the motives that drive every character in the book, but I’m less clear about my own. It is perhaps easier to talk about inspiration. My inspiration to write comes from reading. In particular, great fiction gives me goose-bumps; it is such an astonishing, exalted thing – the way a sentence can penetrate through all those layers of tired thinking, so for a moment the fog lifts and you are less alone.  For me, the heart of a novel lies in the language rather than the subject matter – it’s all in the telling.

The desire to write this particular novel grew from obscure origins – nothing I can easily identify. I have certain pre-occupations, themes that recur, such as memory and the varying ways we remain linked to our past. That’s not to say I’m a fatalist, I don’t believe that, but I do believe that during our brightest and darkest moments we are the child again. To say I write about ‘the human condition’ sounds lazy, and perhaps too general to mean anything, but it’s true. I write about us as survivors who are often contrary and infuriating but never small scale. Being a human being is such a dramatic experience. Every life is interesting; it is not the life, the circumstances, the environment – it’s the way we engage with these things, the way we struggle to construct meaning out of what happens to us.

The process of writing Lomond was both tough and easy, depending. In my experience, writing a novel is a very fluid process. You set out on a journey that quickly takes you off the map. I was always sceptical about writers who suggested they were conduits rather than puppet masters but now I understand that claim completely. Whatever my initial intentions for a story, things always turn out differently, because once a character forms in your mind, and then on the page, you’re in their hands.

How did your interest in writing develop?

As a kind of tinnitus - a condition rather than an interest, a low hum in the background that became increasingly difficult to ignore. I always believed I would write and this naïve surety led to complacency and a very long delay. I have been described as a ‘late starter’ but I’m in good company here and I prefer to use the words of another writer who said they came to writing ‘at a ripe age’. I love that word – ripe. It is exactly right, and nothing to do with being late, but with being ready.

My interest (or condition) began very early, probably about age five or six when I wrote a poem about the ears of a hare, describing them as ‘shuggy’. My parents were hard working professionals, loving but generally busy, often tired or suffering from headaches, or asleep – which is perhaps why I carry such a distinct memory of their expressions of delight when they read about my hare. I had suddenly and unexpectedly caught their eye.

Half a century later, and sticking with that hare, I recall the well known mis-quote from the opening line of a famous cookbook – ‘First, catch your hare.’ I did spend some time, too long perhaps, trying to catch my hare – the big story, but came to realise that what drives me to write is an aesthetic engagement that lies at the core of my self, and that I had in fact already caught my hare (I think, after such prolonged and intense staring on my part, it just gave itself up).

Tell us about which character you most identify with in the book, or which is your favourite?

I identify with all of them – I have to to get into their heads. There is no favourite. I like April for her heart, Wilson for his brain, Rosie for her courage.

Was there any reasoning behind the decision for Lomond to suffer a stroke, as opposed to other afflictions?

That’s an interesting choice of word – affliction. I’m not entirely comfortable with it, and yet it is accurate, he is literally cast down, ‘dashed to the ground’. I didn’t plan it, though – it just happened. He was standing in the kitchen at the time and the sheer unexpectedness of it probably helped me write about all the uncertainty and confusion that followed. I can’t claim any conscious reasoning at the time but experiencing a stroke does resonate with many of the themes in the book – particularly around communication and language and the confusing effects of the spoken word. It meant I could explore through contrast (I’m thinking here of Rosie’s mutism as a child, and Lomond’s as an older man). I enjoy telling stories through the critical gaps of things unsaid.

The character of Rosie’s mum is a bit of a mystery yet her presence permeates the whole novel. What do you think she brings to the novel?

Richness, context, sub-text? I hope so, anyway! Ethel has influenced the lives of all the characters in such different ways, and you’re right - she does permeate the whole novel. Ethel’s own story is told within the constraints of a few scenes, but her own troubled history helps us understand the emerging family patterns and the way loss leaves its particular mark on each individual.  So much of the story emanates from that early experience. I wanted to write about a motherless household and the way the dead stay with us. Ethel’s presence also helps us see Lomond as a younger man, not as a parent – it’s a way of showing persistence of character when the world has ceased to see the person as an individual.

Many reviewers have commented on the sharp accuracy and finely drawn descriptions of the characters. How do you feel that your psychology degree and background as a social worker assisted you in creating such strong personalities?

In terms of developing character not significantly – except perhaps having lots of practice in empathy and observation; both feel important for writing.  I think my desire for truth is important too, or perhaps authenticity is a better description. I do draw from my experiences – how could I not? Hopefully what does come through is a lack of assumption.

My background does help me place the characters in certain situations – where they go from there is up to them, but at least I get to choose the context. For years I worked with people who were badly served by the systematic inequality of our society and I am aware, in retrospect, that that interface is very present in the book; inevitably my politics comes through in my writing.

If your book was made into a film, who would you choose to play Lomond, and who would you choose to play Rosie?

Ha! When it comes to describing characters I leave the detail to the reader’s imagination, so I’m not going to answer that directly (even though a few come immediately to mind). We know quite a lot about Lomond’s appearance in terms of stature and presence, and because he has no voice it would have to be someone who can convey emotion without language – so it’s all in the eyes! My Rosie would be played by someone with a melodious radio voice – a voice people fall in love with. She would have a wonderfully expressive face and sharp comic timing. I’d ask filmmaker Andrea Arnold to find her – hopefully she’d direct the film too.

What’s next for you - are you working on a new novel?

Yes – my next novel will be published by Chatto & Windus in the spring of 2013. I am mulling over titles with my editor so can’t say more. It’s a slow process.

Interview by Helen Croney. 

Listen to the Book Talk podcast discussion of The Death of Lomond Friel here.