Twenty minutes before the scheduled time, I’m sitting across Sri Lanka-born British author Romesh Gunesekera in the lobby of Le Meridien, Delhi. The bright-eyed, silver-haired Gunesekera has an affable air about him, with frequent chuckles to spare. Nominated for the Man Booker in 1994 (for Reef ), he is the author of critically acclaimed books such as The Sandglass and The Prisoner of Paradise .
His latest novel, Suncatcher , is a heartbreaking exploration of growing up, friendship, and loss. Centred in and around Colombo of the 1960s, it is the story of teenagers Kairo and Jay. The call of the wild, class disparity, political turmoil and family strife all feed into the novel. Excerpts from the interview:
You said in an interview that you have always written “out of an urgency, because, any minute, everything can fall apart — including life.” What drove you to write Suncatcher ?
It’s something that has been with me for a very long time time — probably from my earliest writing days. I was interested in creating something artistic as a kind of reprieve to the idea of loss. Loss of early friendship, I think. When this book began to take shape, about five years ago, the push was to try and make sense of the way life turns out for people and ideas of mortality. The political dimension of the period became important and then I began to see how similar that period of turmoil was to the times we live in now. So the urgency became to try and capture that moment.
What does the title symbolise?
I wanted a title that kind of fitted in with some of the other titles I’ve had early in my writing, such as Monkfish Moon and Noontide Toll . I thought of it quite early on because of the character of Jay. It’s open to interpretation, but he is the boy who is trying to catch the impossible. It’s like the impossible dream.
You return to the theme of coming-of-age in the novel. What fascinates you about it? Did you draw from your own childhood spent in Sri Lanka?
Yes. I was there at the time the novel is set, in the 60s, though I was younger than the characters. I left for the Philippines when I was 13 or 14. But it is a world I am trying to create as well… I’ve drawn on things that I have seen but I didn’t live the same lives as the characters. I guess when I was growing up, that transformation from early childhood to adolescence must have been very intense. It is a time when you first begin to see the world, it’s a bit like going to a new country, it has a huge impact on you. At some point in your life, when you go back to that you will be amazed at how vividly it’s there — you will also change it according to how you want it to be, but it has significance way beyond what you might expect.
Kairo, the young narrator, describes his relationship with Jay as: “Jay was Batman, I was Robin.” What attracts Kairo to Jay and how does this friendship drive the novel?
I was interested in the intense relationship between people who are at slightly different stages in life but there is a bond. For Kairo, it is almost a hero worship of Jay, but they are also very close friends. But it may be a one-sided closeness, it’s not clear. They come from slightly different worlds and the balance of power is different. But I believe everybody has had a friend like Jay, or always wanted a friend like Jay. It’s a very strong affection and sometimes a strong hostility. But it’s hugely important, and the loss of it is important too.
Nature is a strong presence in your writing and in Suncatcher , you focus on the world of birds. Are you an avid explorer?
Not as seriously as it sounds! I have been very lucky to spend my childhood around nature, which was more accessible back then, and I carry it with me. While I was writing the book, I did look at birds. I knew a boy who was like Jay in many ways, and was very into the natural world, which was my introduction to it.
Do you feel compelled to write about Sri Lanka in your novels, though you have spent most of your life away from it?
No, I don’t feel pressured. Yes, most of my books are set there or have a connection to Sri Lanka. I feel the world is quite a small, connected place. I don’t think identities have to be singular. They are always plural. Anyone who reads this book might say, this isn’t the Sri Lanka I know. But it doesn’t matter. This is the Sri Lanka of this book.
There is a strong buzz around literary prizes today. Does it excite you as a writer or does it create more anxiety?
That’s a very good question. A bit of both, actually. Books have their own lives. Prizes are important, but they are not quite everything. I have been lucky, because when I was starting out, there weren’t very many Asian names or debut novelists in the shortlist. It was perfect for me (to be nominated for the Booker) and it was also very good not to have won it, because that can be the end of you, if you are new! Now there are many more prizes — on the whole, a good thing, because it creates a buzz, it gets people talking about books, and gets at least some of them reading books. But for a new writer, the downside is that all the buzz is about the books that are noticed, so you might feel neglected.
The interviewer is a Delhi-based freelance journalist.
