{"id":98707,"date":"2025-09-24T18:57:01","date_gmt":"2025-09-24T16:57:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cultureelpersbureau.nl\/?p=98707"},"modified":"2025-10-04T16:59:34","modified_gmt":"2025-10-04T14:59:34","slug":"uitverkocht-ilfu-boekfest-is-het-allerleukst-als-je-stukgeinterviewde-schrijvers-mijdt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cultureelpersbureau.nl\/en\/2025\/09\/uitverkocht-ilfu-boekfest-is-het-allerleukst-als-je-stukgeinterviewde-schrijvers-mijdt\/","title":{"rendered":"Sold-out ILFU Bookfest is most enjoyable if you avoid piece interviewed writers"},"content":{"rendered":"

VPRO's Katja de Bruin is a professional reader. 'Pieced together,' she finds the famous writer Zadie Smith<\/a>: 'I never want to interview that one again. That's such a diva. I understand it too. She's been interviewed so many times.' <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Therefore, unlike her fellow professional readers, she had no need to queue up for Peter Buwalda, who was interviewed about his new book by just about every newspaper and radio programme last week. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When you are piece interviewed, it is not crazy if you start saying the same things over and over again. You can't blame anyone for that. But still, people fall through a bit. Listening to someone recite the same anecdote over and over again is extremely annoying. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To eliminate the risk of a previously heard statement, I visited on Bookfest<\/a> halls without broken people. Surprising and mostly fun, even if you think books are actually something for home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pill for despondency<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Upon entering, a staff member offered jars of 'pills for political despondency'. The red strip of paper, which came out after some wriggling, read: 'The more wildly they insist in The Hague that others are hell the more necessary are the small heavenly gestures between people who share porches, fences and streets (and terraces, playgrounds and trains, schoolyards and waiting rooms) - from the Action pack<\/em> Get moving by Gerda Blees.<\/a> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pill was badly needed. Bookfest was a good remedy for despondency, but despair was first well stoked by talking to doctor Salih El Saddy, who worked in Gaza for a month and wrote the book about it Today was again worse than yesterday<\/em><\/a> wrote. He was emotional, the audience was emotional. To a question from the audience whether he still had hope, he said 'yes'. Because the Gazans were not giving up, he had seen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

'Hey, Mattie!'<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

How do Surinamese-Dutch writers view Surinamese independence, was the question in Pandora hall. Karin Amatmoekrim, Chris Polanen, Guus Pengel and Xillan Macrooy had an animated conversation about the bond they had, and have, with Suriname and Surinamese writers and how it changes over time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Guus Pengel, when he moved back to the Netherlands after the coup, had been amazed that all those Surinamese people behaved so Dutch, as if they were completely transformed, but after so many years in the Netherlands, he knew how much he still carried with him from Suriname. Moreover, he saw that it was cross-pollination. With his remark that the Dutch finally knew how to pronounce the 'w' these days, he scored a fat laugh from the audience. And white boys say \"Hey, mattie!\" to each other. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never rich<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Xilian Macrooy was the youngest at the table. After a period when he had indulged in American and European literary heroes, he had delved into Surinamese literature. He read from his novel People as suns and people as moons<\/a>, a nice scene about a visit to the hairdresser. About machismo in Suriname, which Chris Polanen had also struggled with.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the discussion table, they all knew the story of Micha\u00ebl Slory, a Surinamese poet who received many awards but never got rich from them and sold his work on the streets. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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