Irene Solà: ‘Folk tales show our faults and virtues, and what attitudes and prejudices we have inherited.’

Catelan writer Irene Solà (34) has won several awards for her previous novels, including the European Union Prize for Literature. With her new, dark yet fairy-tale novel I gave you eyes and you looked into the darkness she once again shows her talent. This was awarded the European Literature Prize.

Before Irene Solà devoted herself entirely to writing, she was also an artist. She studied fine art in Barcelona, painting and drawing and making installations. A great basis for being a writer, she says at the office of her Dutch publisher Cossee, where recently her new novel I gave you eyes and you looked into the darkness appeared. ‘There I learned how to set up a creative project, what it is like to spend time and energy, sometimes for years, every day researching, thinking, reflecting and translating that creatively. I also discovered what topics interest me. For me, my work is mainly about the creative process, the curiosity behind it, playfulness and fun.’

That joy of writing is palpable in her intriguing third novel, I gave you eyes and you looked into the darkness. The story revolves around the current and former inhabitants of a farmstead, remote in the Catalan mountains. Old Bernadeta is dying, and the deceased women from her family line are preparing for her entry into eternity.

Solà links the events of one day with those of the past, featuring wolf hunters, villains and deformed humans, and making pacts with the devil. A novel that is intelligent, thought-provoking and a touch dark and mythical.

You just mentioned that you have discovered which topics interest you. Which ones, for example?

‘There are many, but when it comes to this new novel, I was particularly fascinated by the question of who does or does not have the power to assert their voice and tell their story, and the consequences of that. What do we remember, on an individual level but also as a collective? Is that voluntary or are our memories influenced? How do we actually determine what we take or let go of?

‘Storytelling interests me; they define our view of reality. In my first novel, the protagonist Ada tried to write short stories; it is a book about where stories come from and what power they hold. My previous book, about a family in the Pyrenees, two of whom die violent deaths, is told from 18 different perspectives, each of which is a piece of the puzzle. And my new novel is set in the now, but I also weave the past, sayings, old legends and folk tales.’

You use a classic literary fact: the matriarch of the family, Joana, once made a pact with the devil because she wanted a husband.

‘Indeed, that someone makes a deal with the devil is a story fact found in almost all cultures, including Catalan folklore. I wanted to take that as a magical starting point. I read as many stories as possible that revolve around that. That also reminded me of the pact with the reader. Because the creator of a book or film and the person who absorbs the story also make a deal, so to speak: namely, to pretend, for as long as the story lasts, that what is told is true, as if that is reality. Those folk tales and legends show how we as people, as different groups, look or have looked at the world, and how we have interpreted and explained reality. They show our faults and virtues, and what views and prejudices we have inherited.’

Name an important one?

‘I try to guard against stating assertions or opinions too emphatically - I prefer to ask questions. But my novel, for instance, reflects on the way female characters and stories of women have been portrayed. Records of witch trials in which women from all over Europe were tried for witchcraft contain numerous names and confessions, because those women were tortured. But when you read all those records, you also realise: they were written down by the same men who tortured and murdered those women. Those documents irrevocably convey their views and ideas, not those of the women they are about and who were powerless.’

The same applies to what we have learned about ‘history’: it has been handed down from a particular angle and perspective.

‘Exactly. The perspective of whole groups of people who could not read and write, people without power, is not represented in it. My novel questions such issues. Which persons, events, opinions and stories do we consider important? Which ones do we exclude? And who decides? The main characters in my novel are characters who don't star in history books, but also almost never in novels or stories: a bunch of old and even deceased women, women who are supposedly ugly and reprehensible, who have nothing to say. That's why we spend the entire novel in and around that house, what do I say, for centuries! Because that is the place women were relegated to in history. That offers me at the same time to reflect on topics like violence, sexuality, motherhood, romantic love. And thus also on how women have been portrayed not only in history but also in fictional contexts.’

It is powerfully and cleverly written, and also extraordinary how the women in the line of the present sometimes almost touch those from the past in the same sentence. How did that form?

‘When I started, I had no idea at all how I would go about it. Only Joana, the matriarch who makes the pact with the devil because she wants a husband, was there at an early stage. But as I said, I like to explore and play - for me, the making is more important than the end result. I open myself up and listen very carefully to what the project is telling me and asking of me. For instance, at one point it became clear to me that the story had to take place in one day. Slowly the story then grows under your hands, the story finds its own way, its layers, depth and rhythm. Every part has to fit and be right. That takes a lot of time and patience. Also to get to know the characters really well, so that I don't try to force them in a certain direction just because it suits me. Then they become one-dimensional figures, puppets, instead of real-life people.’

Your characters are special; almost all of them are missing some body part, as would be the result of that deal with the devil.

‘For me in particular, their subjectivity, their perspective, is most interesting. That gave me the chance to give different views on the themes that come up. Take for instance the relationship with memory: Margarida more or less wants to set herself up as the chronicler of the story, telling ‘the’ truth and thus erasing certain voices. Another just wants to have fun and forget the past. For yet another, remembering is mainly linked to regret. Similarly, they each have their own opinions about, for instance, motherhood, love, family, the home.

‘It was very interesting for me as a writer to have, amidst all those voices and stories of Joana and Margarida, also a character like Blanca, who has no tongue and for whom language is therefore completely irrelevant. Is that actually a problem? What is it like to know and see through everything like Bernadeta? And is Marta's poor memory a good thing or a bad thing? All these different points of view ensure that not one view is presented as ‘the’ truth, but that they can coexist even if they contradict each other. Even within a family, there are countless versions of family history. There is simply no such thing as one objective truth.’