Sue Eckstein: interpreting life
Her day job is lecturing in medical ethics, and in her personal
life she’s recently undergone surgery to amputate a limb. She’s also
just published her second novel. Ian Macrae has been hearing more about
her own and her characters’ stories
Usually, discussing a book while avoiding giving away the plot is a
pretty straightforward business. You just don’t talk about what happens
at the end.
But with Sue Eckstein’s Interpreters it’s more complicated than that.
The book is a bit like an onion, and not only because it may bring tears
to some readers’ eyes. Its structure is layered so that things emerge,
are revealed or realized slowly.
Sue Eckstein explains: “The onion description fits very well. I created
the structure like that very intentionally because I wanted it to be a
slow reveal, for people to have to work a bit to figure out who was who.
I think a reading audience can enjoy that sort of trickery.
There are two central characters in each of two separate but ultimately
intertwined narrative strands. One is a younger woman, Julia Rosenthal
going back to visit places significant in her past and at the same time
reflecting on incidents which shaped or affected relationships, in
particular, those with her brother Max and her daughter Susanna.
The other strand is the retrospective story of a wartime childhood in Germany as told by a woman in old age.
Since many novels are autobiographical or have elements of autobiography
in them, it’s all too easy to assume, or at least wonder whether Julia
is Sue herself.
“She’s not me to the extent that the book isn’t autobiographical. In all
my writing I draw from real experience and there are bits of Julia that
my friends would recognize as being very like me, but it isn’t the same
life, as it were.”
Even the title appears to have layers of meaning. It refers not only to
the ways in which the characters reflect on and interpret their own and
other people’s lives. It also puts the reader in among them. We become
our own interpreter.
“The title came to me half way through the novel and it’s very much
about the way we interpret the past and interpret our lives and other
people’s lives and the fact that that’s not always reliable.”
All of the relationships in the book are in some way and to some degree
fractured. Some of them are positively (or negatively) damaging. But Sue
Eckstein says there is something which they have in common.
”I realized when I looked back and saw the thread that it is the
influence of war which fractured them, although some were from a
distance of very many years and many of the people would perhaps never
think that it was that which had such an effect on their relationship. I
think ultimately it’s quite an optimistic book though there is sadness
in it.”
It’s a book which was written and took shape during a time when the
author was approaching and reaching a crossroads in her own life. Two
operations resulted in first a below-the-knee, and then an upper leg
amputation. She explains how the process of writing fitted in with and
progressed through all that.
“Writing for me is kind of my only real escape. The years of surgery I
had on my foot and then the first amputation, they oddly had no impact
on the novel because writing is the time when I’m most at peace. I can
write without thinking about anything else that’s going on in my life,
including impending amputation, actual amputation and then
re-amputation.”
As an amputee now, however, Sue feels more inclined to take it on as a subject for writing.
“Since the amputations, I’ve been very interested in writing something
fictitious which would have an amputee in it. Obviously I would not have
thought of that before I became an amputee.
“But as soon as I had the first amputation, I had this great idea – what
I thought was a great idea – for a kind of amputation comedy: a radio
play that would take various amputees from fact and fiction and put them
together in rather unusual ways. The producer who produced my other
radio plays liked it, but they couldn’t get it beyond the drama
commissioner.”
Looking at her blog before we spoke, there was a definite wryness of
tone to the entries. But on the day we spoke, Sue told me that was about
to change.
“For the first time yesterday I was overcome with rage. I have oddly not
felt as bleak about the whole thing as I would have expected to. So I
was interested by my response that came from nowhere of now feeling fed
up. I think it was the realization that it’s for ever. And it’s hard
work. An upper leg amputation is incredibly different from a below knee
one. I’m learning to walk. And the fear of falling is always there now.
Falling over as an adult is really shocking I find.”
And Sue finds that she is embracing the notion that it’s the things outside of us which are disabling.
“I very much believe that, and increasingly so. It has meaning in very
practical terms, doesn’t it. Places of work take the cheapest possible
option on disability access. I work in a relatively new medical school
where there is supposedly disability access. But I wrestle with fire
doors on my way in and out of work every day.
“But equally, by being visibly disabled in a medical school, it doesn’t
do any harm. It shows medical students that the fact that I’ve got one
leg doesn’t stop me being as effective a lecturer as anyone else they’ve
got.”
• Interpreters is published by Myriad Editions. RRP £8.99


