Acclaimed New Zealand author Patricia Grace has released her new collection of short stories.
What links the stories in Bird Child and Other Stories? What do they share?
There are three parts to the collection. In part one, the stories connect because they draw on pūrakau, or ancient Māori storytelling. The first story, from which the book gets its title, is inspired by waiata tawhito, whakapapa, oriori and karakia. The remaining pieces are re-imaginings of ancient stories.
Those in part two are based on my own childhood experiences and are set in the 1940s and 50s, depicting experiences of a Māori child in both urban and rural environments.
Part three is made up of contemporary stories. There are a wide range of themes.
Though the stories within each of the parts are linked, between parts they are not, unless we count authorship, and perhaps, birds.
What was it like revisiting some of your previously published stories for this collection? What kind of change did you see between past Patricia and present-day Patricia?
I enjoyed revisiting earlier stories, could even say I rejoiced in them. If I thought any could do with an edit, I did that – but nothing drastic. As the years pass and times change, more and more themes and ideas present themselves, but I haven’t moved away from the source of where ideas come from, which is, from within – meaning that I have lived the experience forming the base of the story, in some way.
Did looking back at your previous works bring anything different to them, the way that you read or saw them?
Nothing different in how I read or saw them. They are what I could do and where I was at, at the time.
How did you know what should and shouldn’t go in this collection? In the editing process, are you a tough critic of your work?
Judgement and personal preference. I always want to do the best writing that I can do and work hard to achieve this. In so doing I can feel satisfied that I am respecting the reader, also respecting those to whom the book may be dedicated as well as those who I have acknowledged.
Some of this collection is steeped in mythology. What does myth mean to you? How do you think myth succeeds as a narrative device? Equally, what do you think it affords the storyteller, and those receiving that story?
I find the ancient stories both fascinating and inspiring in their range of characters, their forthrightness, their bold storylines and their language. They hold within them themes for today. I guess that is why they have stood the test of time. Over the centuries these oral histories have been embellished, updated, made to fit the ears, minds, hearts of people of a particular time and place. It is the task of today’s writers to present these in a way that is understandable and interesting to today’s listeners and readers.
You’ve spoken before about how, in your writing, you’re interested in exploring intergenerational relationships and the interconnectedness of people and their environments. What do you think is productive as a writer to examine right now?
All of the above, now more than ever. Examination of past, present and future and our connectedness to this earth, is vital to survival. I believe all good writing needs to be political, or to examine and explain the human condition. In “exploring intergenerational relationships and the interconnectedness of people and their environments” we will deepen the connection with each other, and with Papatuanuku – the earth from which all things come.
All good art needs to do this, to be the conscience, to show us to ourselves, to shine a light.
By writing about these subjects, do you see part of this collection as being educational, in a way that offers another type of learning?
It’s a difficult question to answer because I don’t really know what readers will take from my stories. I think first and foremost, one wants to tell a good story. One would hope that understandings will come from that.
Some of your stories draw on your childhood. Though your stories are fiction, do you think of yourself, in part, as a keeper of histories?
I can’t say I’ve thought about that. But I do think that fiction is as equally important as non-fiction in telling history. It is in fiction that emotional depth and cultural understanding of a particular time and place is able to be explored. Imagination, carefully handled, can reach into both past and future. Oral history and storytelling have an all-important role to play.
As someone who has such a creative family, including daughter-in-law Briar Grace-Smith [director and screenwriter] and grandaughter Miriama Grace-Smith, who created the cover illustration for Bird Child, have you found that other creative forms beyond writing influence your work?
My late husband, besides being an educator was also a carver, visual artist and designer. My family are all involved artistically, whether that be in visual arts, building, woodworking, design, film, video, theatre, photography, programme design, performance, writing, or as instrumentalists, singers and musicians. I grew up with a brother who was an artist. I’ve had great conversations with Briar and really enjoyed my times being ‘on set’ during the making of the film Cousins. I rejoice in the cover of the new book, artwork by my granddaughter, Miriama. All of this is inspirational to me, but also normal.
Describe the feeling you have when you’re writing.
Highs and lows.
Who are your favourite writers currently? Do you have any favourite young writers that you’re particularly inspired by?
I’m reading two books at the moment, not something that I usually do, but for me, The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk, though I regard it as a must-read, is not a prescription for this middle-of-the-night insomniac. I need to break it up. I’m reading also This Other Eden, by Paul Harding.
I’ve recently read a pre-production copy of Hine Toa by Ngahuia Te Awekotuku. It’s brave, it’s amazing.
Mid last year I read The Bone Tree a first novel by Airana Ngarewa. I’ll certainly be looking out for his next book.
What book do you recommend to people the most?
Beloved by Toni Morrison.
How do you know when a story is finished?
When I find myself overthinking, I chop.
Bird Child and Other Stories (Penguin, RRP $37) is on sale now
Australian philanthropist donates McCahon, Binney and Killeen art to fundraising auction.