{"id":144214,"date":"2020-04-09T09:00:35","date_gmt":"2020-04-09T13:00:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=144214"},"modified":"2020-04-09T11:55:04","modified_gmt":"2020-04-09T15:55:04","slug":"chosen-family-an-interview-with-rowan-hisayo-buchanan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2020\/04\/09\/chosen-family-an-interview-with-rowan-hisayo-buchanan\/","title":{"rendered":"Chosen Family: An Interview with Rowan Hisayo Buchanan"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/rowan2.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-144216\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/rowan2.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"956\" height=\"698\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/rowan2.jpg 956w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/rowan2-300x219.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/rowan2-768x561.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><em>The first moments in Rowan Hisayo Buchanan\u2019s <\/em>Starling Days <em>are quiet. Mina, a thirty-two-year-old classicist, is walking along the George Washington Bridge on a humid summer evening. She feels the bridge shudder in the wind. She looks past Manhattan\u2019s skyscrapers and imagines her husband, Oscar, working at home in Brooklyn. It\u2019s not apparent to the reader why she\u2019s here\u2014perhaps Mina herself is uncertain\u2014but then she looks at the river, and remembers what people say about jumping: \u201cWhen a body fell onto water from this height, it was like hitting a sidewalk.\u201d She gently tosses one of her flip-flops over the edge, before a policeman interrupts the scene. From these first careful sentences, Buchanan sets the tone of the novel, the proximity of its narration. <\/em>Starling Days <em>is as immediate, changeable, and surprising as real life.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Mina and Oscar are young, recently married, and coping with an intensification of Mina\u2019s depression. Alternating between their points of view, Buchanan maps their attempt to find the key to Mina\u2019s suffering. But despite their intimate knowledge of each other, their shared histories and identities, and their most tender efforts to bring about change (they temporarily move to London early on in the story) many of Mina\u2019s emotions remain impenetrable. When Mina is hospitalized after an overdose attempt, Oscar attends to her: \u201cFor the whole visiting hour, his face was twisted with confusion. \u2018Why did you do this?\u2019 he\u2019d asked. But she couldn\u2019t point and go, There, that. That\u2019s what\u2019s wrong with me.\u201d The dynamic of this scene replicates itself throughout the novel\u2014the effort to make sense of the inexplicable, the ensuing confusion, the twisted face.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>In the darkest moments of this cycle, <\/em>Starling Days <em>is heartbreaking to read, and yet, most days, I closed the book with immense gratitude for its refusal to pathologize family history or identity. It feels rare\u2014in both literature and in our world\u2014to sit with sadness and allow it to be unruly. Buchanan proves that to recognize that some sadness is unalterable is not necessarily a melodramatic plunge into despair. Strange, enduring sadness has a mirror: small, repeated gestures of survival. In the hospital, Oscar is still looking at Mina, and inviting her to try.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Rowan and I first spoke via Skype, but our conversation spilled into emails and messages in the weeks that followed. We spoke about choosing to hold on, and about the literature that helps us do so.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>Where did <em>Starling Days <\/em>begin?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>Maybe books are the record of everything I\u2019ve been fascinated with for several years. I could say <em>Starling Days<\/em> began in several places and they would all be true.<\/p>\n<p>As a writer, I\u2019m often thinking about how much language we have. In contemporary culture, there are so many words we can use to describe our identity. I could tell you that that I\u2019m mixed race, that I\u2019m dyslexic, that I\u2019m bisexual, on and on. Each word describes something true and important about me. At the same time, no words quite describe the feeling I get when I see a bird take off from a tree that I previously thought was empty. It\u2019s odd to be simultaneously overwhelmed by language and also to find it inadequate.<\/p>\n<p>As I tried to find ways to talk about mental health, often the language around it felt like a way of silencing the experience. A particular phrase stuck out to me: \u201cYou have to love yourself, before you ask someone else to love you.\u201d It felt both true and very untrue. It\u2019s extremely hard to conduct a relationship\u2014romantic or otherwise\u2014with someone consumed by their suffering, and yet it\u2019s unfair to expect someone to feel able to love themselves if they\u2019re not receiving any love.<\/p>\n<p>Novels and fiction are a way of examining something I don\u2019t fully understand, so I wanted to write about a couple where one person is struggling with their mental health, and show both sides of the relationship. Although the things that happen to Oscar and Mina are not the things that happened to me, I have loved and cared about people who\u2019ve experienced severe mental health challenges and, when I was a teenager, I experienced very serious depression. I felt able to think about both sides, and invested in thinking about both sides.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><!--more-->INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>The novel is written in the close third person, alternating between Mina\u2019s and Oscar\u2019s points of view. Did you start writing from both perspectives early on? Or did one character arrive sooner than the other?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>The setup of the first chapter was there from the beginning\u2014the moment with Mina walking on the bridge, the police taking her in because they are worried she might jump, and then the switch of perspective to Oscar picking her up.<\/p>\n<p>That was the one thing I did take from my life. I was once picked up on the George Washington Bridge by the police. I hadn\u2019t thought I was going to jump. I was just walking and thinking about the things I went through when I was a teenager, and I was trying to find the feeling of wanting to be alive. And so when I was picked up, it was very frightening. I suddenly went from being a person who had agency, to being a person who had not broken any law but who was in a police car. My best friend had to come to pick me up and sign the document that says, I\u2019ll be responsible for you. It was fine, ultimately, but that night really stuck with me. I started to think about the other people who were picked up and needed to call someone. What happens if the person you call is your husband? What happens if they take the document\u2014the taking responsibility for you\u2014literally? What would that mean for a relationship?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>Your first book, <em>Harmless Like You<\/em>, is also about a pair, a mother and a son. How do you view the two books\u2014and their subjects\u2014in relation to one another?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p><em>Harmless Like You <\/em>is about family. It\u2019s about a mother who leaves her son. And however you feel about her choice by the end of the novel, I did want the reader to understand how she felt and why she made the choice. Her choice was in the context of a world where mothers are supposed to stay with their children.<\/p>\n<p>In <em>Starling Days <\/em>I was thinking about the opposite. What happens if you can leave? Divorce is hard, but these days, in Britain and America, people understand that you can break up with someone. And so what happens if you\u2019re trying to hold on? I wanted to take a young couple\u2019s relationship and treat it as seriously, treat the repercussions of the desire as seriously, as you would for the relationships in a family.<\/p>\n<p>We talk about chosen family\u2014family is hard. What happens when you choose? What does that mean? If we believe the relationship between a mother and a son cannot be destroyed, even if one of them leaves, it\u2019s still a powerful connection, then what does it mean to make that kind of connection from scratch?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>Earlier, you mentioned the perils of having too much language, or too little. And it seems one of the times we deal with these perils is precisely when attempting to build romantic connections. Mina is often acutely aware of the limits of language in her relationship, of its failure to communicate what she means or feels. During a phone call with Oscar, she reflects, \u201cThe more they said \u2018okay,\u2019 the more the word deformed. The <em>o <\/em>inflated, sounding top-heavy.\u201d I wonder where you, as a writer, experience the limits of language as a tool. How do you persist in your craft, in spite of its limitations?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s strange. No one I know loves words more than writers, and no one I know is more frustrated by words than writers. If something is easy to say or write, that is what we do. But so much of what we think and feel is sharp and vivid, confined to our skulls, and when we say it aloud it comes out drab and faded. People nod, but the essence of the feeling has been lost.<\/p>\n<p>I often feel unable to communicate. My words seem to lose their depth and shine on the way out of my mouth. I am always aware of the limits. But one of the great gifts and challenges of fiction writing is that it is a way of trying to cast a spell and summon those feelings and thoughts up for another person via plot, character, language, rhythm. To do this is hard work and often it is only partially successful. But I think it is the only way I know to really talk about what it means to be alive.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019m also curious about the different ways Mina and Oscar harm and betray each other at various stages of the novel. There\u2019s a scene in a flower market, where Mina and Oscar are arguing. He half-catches himself, \u201cIt wasn\u2019t fair. She had a mental illness. You shouldn\u2019t yell at someone who was sick. Except you did.\u201d There are more obvious betrayals in the book, too, but the brief, fleeting conflicts\u2014the daily harms in relationships\u2014feel important.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>It was important to me to talk about the ways in which very understandable behavior\u2014something that makes sense in the context of what you\u2019re going through\u2014still has repercussions.<\/p>\n<p>It makes sense that Oscar is overwhelmed and so needs to take space. It makes sense that Mina is reaching out for anything that might be positive\u2014even if that is pursuing another woman\u2014because everyone\u2019s telling her she has to find a way to be happy. But that still has repercussions. Your behavior can be both understandable and hurtful. When we talk about mental health, it\u2019s often about the one person who has a diagnosis. But your behavior and feelings have an effect on the people around you\u2014friends, family members, possibly even coworkers. It\u2019s a system\u2014a person\u2019s health doesn\u2019t exist in isolation.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>Mina is not in therapy during the novel, but she alludes to her past experiences, and comments on the apparent commonness of seeing a therapist, at least within her circle of friends. I remember laughing when I read, \u201cShe\u2019d lost count of the times one of her New York friends began sentence, \u2018So my therapist says.\u2019\u201d It almost makes me feel more hopeless to imagine us all trying, over and over, to make sense of ourselves in these tiny offices around the world. I want to borrow Mina\u2019s words: \u201cMapping your emotions was easy, it was cutting a new path that felt impossible.\u201d Is there hope? Did writing this book help cut new paths in your thinking about your emotions?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>One of the things I realized as I was writing is there are seemingly endless possible explanations for our struggles. Thinking about my own life, I often spend so long thinking about why something happened that it leaves little energy to think about what to do next. You can get so caught up in the mapping that it becomes hard to move.<\/p>\n<p>For Mina, part of what she needs to see is that she is not the only one who is flawed, and that Oscar is struggling, too. This realization isn\u2019t going to fix her, but at the same time, always thinking, \u201cI\u2019m broken in this way or in this way or in this way\u201d had prevented her from seeing, \u201cThis other person needs me and maybe I can help them.\u201d There needs to be a balance.<\/p>\n<p>The challenge is to not dismiss your own emotions <em>and<\/em> to not be consumed by them. One of the things I wanted the book to do is show that they\u2019re juggling these whole lives beyond Mina\u2019s suicidal ideation. Mina wants to pursue her academic career, Oscar wants to impress his father, and build a stable family.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>There are things to do besides mapping your <em>own <\/em>emotions.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>There are, and you can still be worthwhile even if you are in some way flawed or struggling. You still have something to give to the world.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>Sometimes the mapping <em>is <\/em>terrifying though. Returning to the opening scene, when Mina is on the George Washington bridge, she tosses one of her flip-flops over the railing\u2014this is why the police officer takes her aside. And later she tries to explain to Oscar, \u201cI was reading about that actor who jumped off and I just wanted to see it. The bridge, I mean.\u201d I do understand that impulse to look closely, but to do so is precarious. This novel in general sets out to draw closely to sadness, to learn its \u201cfloor plan\u201d\u2014to borrow more of Mina\u2019s language. But how do you write about a thing like the intense spirals of depression, suicidal ideation, without reproducing its harm?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>To some extent every reader will have to decide. But for me there is something useful about, even in fiction, describing a version of the world that feels true, that feels as flawed as the world is, with people who are as flawed as they are, but that also has the joys and the beauties that are in the world. To be silent or to give a simplified version of those things is a greater risk. I know that when I have struggled with something, whether it\u2019s training my dog or a deep emotional issue, when I go to read fiction or to my own writing, what I want is not perfect people, but people who\u2019ve been through something or who\u2019ve tried to think about a thing I\u2019ve tried to think about. Otherwise, I\u2019m completely alone with it.<\/p>\n<p>I wanted to read this and not feel alone. Especially because I think there is still a lot of stigma. It might be more acceptable to say, \u201cOh I have this diagnosis.\u201d But there\u2019s a desire to have the Starbucks ad version of your diagnosis: \u201cI have this, but I\u2019m fine and I\u2019m a very functioning member of society and I never do anything wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>At the same time, while I didn\u2019t want either Mina or Oscar to be perfect, I didn\u2019t want anyone to think the worst things Mina said to herself were what I, the author, thought about them, the reader. The things Mina says to herself are some of the harshest things you could imagine. That is part of the reason I included an author\u2019s note at the end. I tried to be as truthful as I could, but I wanted to reiterate that the book really doesn\u2019t believe that there is a single answer for everybody. And it did feel worth it to come out of the fiction writer\u2019s sacred room. I started to think, worst case scenario, what would it be like if someone reads my book and thinks, <em>Yes I am Mina<\/em>, or, <em>Yes I am Oscar<\/em>, or even worse, <em>I\u2019m worse than Mina<\/em>. <em>What do I do? Is this book telling me that my choices are wrong? <\/em>I was concerned that some readers would feel that that note was more than they needed, that they would feel it was obvious, but I felt that in the end it was my job to be there for the more vulnerable reader.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>I was grateful to find the note at the end of the novel! The gentle reminder that this is just one story of many and that, \u201cEvery day you try again is an act of bravery.\u201d Those are kind words to hear\u2014whether or not you feel you need them in that precise moment.<\/p>\n<p>When you described the importance of crafting fiction that feels true, you reminded me of when Mina explains why she first fell in love with studying the classics. Myths, she said, \u201chad felt truer than the tilt of the planet or its long spin around the sun. This world made so much more sense if it was filled with angry, hungry gods.\u201d What is it about fiction or myth that helps you access more reality, more truth?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>All fiction, even the most realist fiction, is this huge act of fantasy. You believe you can be in someone else\u2019s head, or multiple-someone-elses\u2019 heads\u2014as in the case of both my books. But I think it\u2019s also what we all do, even non-writers, as we go about our lives: we try to imagine how all the people around us feel. You have to believe they have an inner reality, and you tell yourself a story about that inner reality and it\u2019s how you connect with them.<\/p>\n<p>When I\u2019m trying to understand someone who is in a very different situation than my own, I might read articles and essays, but I\u2019ll also read fiction. Books will make me think about the relationships between people in my life. I might read a book about a mother and a daughter, and it might make me call my mother. It might make me say, \u201cHi, I read this. It made me think of you.\u201d Reading and writing present a way to combat the essential aloneness of being a human being. Maybe because the characters feel like you, maybe they share your life situation. But even if they\u2019re not you, you feel less alone, because you are connected to this other story, this other consciousness, the consciousnesses of the characters, and the consciousness of the writer as well.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>The novel takes place over the course of only a few months. How did you decide on the scale?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>I wasn\u2019t sure exactly the span of time, but I knew I wanted it to be fairly compact. We were talking about this book versus <em>Harmless Like<\/em> <em>You<\/em>, which takes place over decades and attempts to look at this life as a whole. If you take everything that happens to Oscar and Mina in <em>Starling Days<\/em>\u00a0and place it in the <em>Harmless Like You <\/em>timeline, it would probably be two chapters, but I wanted to give this time in their lives a whole novel.<\/p>\n<p>I am roughly Mina and Oscar\u2019s age and, as I started to look around me at the choices people were making, I realized that your thirties are this unique stage. It\u2019s not quite the bildungsroman\u2014you aren\u2019t squishy clay. People in their thirties are already pretty much themselves, they\u2019ve already had a lot happen to them, but they also have a lot of life left. And if you believe in long-term relationships, or equally if you don\u2019t, if you were defining yourself against them, it\u2019s a moment where you\u2019re saying, \u201cThis is the set-up in my life. These are the relationships that are important to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Maybe you\u2019ll get divorced, maybe something will change, but it\u2019s a time where you have to actively make choices that you believe will last you for the next decades. Career-wise as well\u2014the book is about their relationship but it\u2019s also about Mina struggling with her job as a classicist, and that\u2019s part of what\u2019s freaking her out\u2014she\u2019s crying while she\u2019s trying to work. And Oscar\u2019s trying to prove he can be the young professional he thinks his father wants him to be. It\u2019s this moment where you\u2019re fighting for the life you will have.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">INTERVIEWER<\/p>\n<p>Mina and Oscar do withstand so much together. And the book offers so many beautiful articulations of what love and long-term relationships look like. What did you learn about love in the process of writing this book?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">HISAYO BUCHANAN<\/p>\n<p>I was thinking about this as I was writing. The people you love the most become an extension of yourself, and in the ways in which we are both the kindest and go the furthest for ourselves and the people we love, we are also the harshest on ourselves.<\/p>\n<p>If someone who is unimportant to you is rude or boring or tiresome, you\u2019d say, Okay, thank you, and leave. But the moment you choose to not leave, when you say, This person, in some form or another, is permanent. It\u2019s an incredible investment and that investment can bring out the best and the worst of yourself.<\/p>\n<p>That was a big part of thinking about how Mina and Oscar treat each other. I wanted to see what it means to try not the big gesture, but the <em>again and again and again<\/em>, the small ways, to still be there, to be yourself, to be your kindest self, with all your flaws. With the idea that it\u2019s forever. That is big and beautiful and terrifying.<\/p>\n<p>Our culture generally celebrates work when it comes to your literal job. We know it may be difficult, challenging, and frustrating but we have a model for that struggle. It\u2019s okay, if you believe the work is worthwhile. But as a society, we\u2019re still figuring out how much work is healthy in a relationship. The characters in <em>Starling Days <\/em>each have their own answer. They have different views on how much you can ask of someone, and how much you can help someone. Writing the book reminded me that everybody has to make that decision for themselves.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>Spencer Quong is a writer from the Yukon Territory, Canada. He lives and works in New York.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It feels rare\u2014in both literature and in our world\u2014to sit with sadness and allow it to be unruly. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1767,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[907],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-144214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-at-work"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Chosen Family: An Interview with Rowan Hisayo Buchanan by Spencer Quong<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"April 9, 2020 \u2013 It feels rare\u2014in both literature and in our world\u2014to sit with sadness and allow it to be unruly.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" 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