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'My novel offers an opening for conversation about mental illness' Lize Spit on her new book "I am not there"

Belgian novelist Lize Spit (32) had to go through the motions for her new novel I am not here taming not only her words and storylines, but also the voices in her head. 'Every day I heard the little voice that said, "You can't do it".'

Few writers made such an overwhelming entrance into the literary world as Lize Spit did in 2016 with It melts. The novel became a hit, won multiple awards, eventually sold some 200,000 copies, received 12 translations, plus a stage and film adaptation. But despite the overwhelming success, Spit felt anything but confident as she worked on her second novel I am not here.

It is a story about the demise of a relationship and dealing with mental instability. Young woman Leo and her boyfriend Simon, both around 30, are each other's childhood sweethearts. The early loss of their mother has scratched both their souls, and with each other they find safety and comfort. Until Simon becomes manic-depressive and is gripped by fears and delusions. Their whole lives come to a head. I am not here is another thick, psychological pageturner that almost tops 600 pages.

Great pressure

How did you sit down at your desk after the overwhelming success of your debut?

'The first year after It melts came out, I was constantly on the road for interviews and performances, even abroad. At some point, I had to tell myself: now I'm going to focus on writing again. In interviews, I had said that the pressure was not that bad, but once I started writing again, it was difficult. I have a negative self-image, and every day I heard a little voice in my head saying, "You can't do it." I experienced a lot of pressure.'

Has the bar been raised even higher?

'Actually I do. This book has to be better than the first, otherwise I haven't done well enough. At the same time, I know that the success of It melts cannot be surpassed. There are more people looking over my shoulder and expecting something. I underestimated the impact of that self-awareness. I could hardly think away the outside world and was even aware of the questions I would get afterwards about the writing process. For instance, I kept notes of the music I listened to while writing, because I had been asked that question a lot with my first book. Until at some point I realised: I should just be doing my book, not everything around it. The need to tell this story was great. There are so many people who have to deal with a loved one becoming mentally ill - at the publishing house alone, I heard from two people that they had also experienced something like this in their environment, and also how difficult it had been all these years to talk about it.'

Writing as sublimation

Was it difficult to empathise with that psychological process where someone slowly loses the thread?

'Writing is a form of sublimation: with fiction, I try to turn a personal grief into something beautiful and useful. I experienced this myself with a loved one. A mania starts with mirth taking increasingly extreme forms, and it is very difficult for the family or partner to determine when it becomes dangerous and you need to start intervening. Like Leo, I waited a very long time. Until, in time, I became alienated not only from the other person, but also from myself.

The novel mainly revolves around the undermining impact of mental illness on relationships with others, the mutual trust. When someone does things you never expected them to do, it is very difficult to find that trust again. To dare to trust that someone is okay again and the situation is safe again. Even when things go well for a while, you think: but later it will go wrong again, and it can never really go right again. I have experienced it myself. With someone who is manic, you immediately see happiness as the announcement of a derailment'.

Derail

You use a nice image: the main characters are like two pillars leaning against each other, balancing each other. Because of bipolar disorder, the structure collapses.

'Seeing your loved one derail before your eyes is the worst thing there is: the most secure suddenly becomes the most unsafe. You can live with someone for weeks or months before it becomes clear that they are slowly slipping into delusions. Many people who have experienced it think afterwards: if only I could have recognised it earlier, I could have sought help earlier. That is precisely why I have taken the time to describe that whole process.'

Are you hoping to break a taboo?

'That is not the goal, but a welcome side effect. There is a lot of shame around mental illness, which is why it is talked about so little. A novel might offer an opening for conversation - as it did at the publishing house. I think readers can recognise themselves in Leo or Simon and get something out of it. At the same time, I am already lying awake thinking about the reviews to come and feeling vulnerable and empty. Will my years of work be rewarded? Should I actually just go back to work because it's not good enough, or do I deserve to rest now?'

Good to know Good to know

I am not here by Lize Spit was published by Das Mag, €25.99


 

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Wijbrand Schaap

Cultural journalist since 1996. Worked as theatre critic, columnist and reporter for Algemeen Dagblad, Utrechts Nieuwsblad, Rotterdams Dagblad, Parool and regional newspapers through Associated Press Services. Interviews for TheaterMaker, Theatererkrant Magazine, Ons Erfdeel, Boekman. Podcast maker, likes to experiment with new media. Culture Press is called the brainchild I gave birth to in 2009. Life partner of Suzanne Brink roommate of Edje, Fonzie and Rufus. Search and find me on Mastodon.View Author posts

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