Made of words

Joanna Elmy says that, as reader and writer, she steers clear of any labels, genres or molds. That's why we won't list everything that her debut novel Made of Guilt has accomplished so far (published by Janet 45), or the great reviews she has received for the book which touches on very difficult topics such as the transition, emigration and domestic violence. Although this is the first time we are reading her work in the long form of a novel, Elmy has given us a lot to read and think about as one of the authors of the independent publication Toest and host of the Periskop podcast of the Association of European Journalists in Bulgaria. A few years ago, she even staged a play that she wrote. And since words are definitely her superpower, we will let her speak: 

Did your attitude towards reading change after you started writing?

As a philologist with a special interest in literature, my attitude to reading has long since gone from amateur to technical. Beyond the familiar cliché that we can't write if we don't read, I would add – if we don't read well. I recently found a very nice parallel between Borges and Liliev. The former says that good readers are just as rare as good authors, and reading is a higher occupation than writing. Liliev believes that reading is also a form of creativity, and adds that he tries to write less and read more. For me, things have been changing in this manner – the more I read, the less I write.

Photographer: Boryana Pandova

Made of Guilt describes many contrasts between the Bulgarian and American environment – how do readers' attitudes toward literature differ?

I could talk about this for hours, but for the sake of the reader I will restrain myself as much as I can. For the past year, I've been working as a bookseller at an independent bookstore in the United States, looking at these processes from the ground level. The American and English-speaking reader in general is as privileged as he is disadvantaged. Privileged because there is a huge selection of a steady stream of titles in one of the fastest and most flexible markets. Disadvantaged because publishing has become a monopoly, which in turn leads to uniform content. The definitions of a bestseller are also quite fluid, which is obviously bad, because very good authors can drown amidst this background noise. At the same time, only 3% of the literature published in English is translated, which means that the reader is disadvantaged also from a cultural point of view, they see the world through the narrow lens of their own cultural preconceptions. But books written by immigrants in the United States are very strong at the moment and in great demand.

Photographer: Boryana Pandova

Due to the enormous market machine, American literature reaches the Bulgarian reader very quickly, sometimes in a matter of months. It seems to me that, compared to the American market, there are still lots of small independent publishers on the Bulgarian market. Enough people in Bulgaria support different kinds of books and the reader has a choice. While the American book business is threatened by Amazon, selling books at low prices at the expense of everyone involved – translators, editors, publishers, authors – I see the threat to the Bulgarian book as the opportunity to publish expensive books at low prices, and making up the gap with money from unknown sources.

Your question was about the attitude of readers – I think people like to read everywhere. Efforts should be made towards supporting a culture of reading not in terms of consuming books – there's a reader for every book – but in terms of how to achieve clean reading as part of the market economy: for example through supporting independent publishers and booksellers, transparent ownership of publishing houses, resisting monopolies and refusing to dumb down for the sake of entertainment.

Photographer: Boryana Pandova

Why is it important to keep reading a "slow pleasure" and why is this such a challenge?

Platforms like Goodreads, where we reduce books to numbers and stars, seem to take away some of the romance, downplay the ritual. At the same time, they give us a reason to talk about books, so maybe I'm old-fashioned. I don't read much and I read slowly, I take even longer to choose what I am going to read. It often takes me a long time after I finish a book to get back into the balance of reality and my own self, including writing. I avoid prescriptions: let everyone read as they feel is best for the book and their reading palate.

What are your favorite places and states for "reading comprehension" and "sensitive reading"?

I often read more than one book and author at a time, because I love intertextuality and I like to look for similar symbols and patterns, the author's dialogue with themselves or other authors. I enter a kind of personal literary game. The last books I read this way were Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time and Borges's Labyrinths. At other times, I grab a book that is so good, it is impossible to read anything else in parallel – like The Museum of Abandoned Secrets by Oksana Zabuzhko, after which I recovered with the short but terribly powerful Kervan za garvani by Emine Sadki. When your work involves books and writing, the way you read changes. Somehow you can no longer sink into the book, to feel it completely, you always read it with an eye toward the cogs and mechanisms of the text. In Tokarczuk's The Books of Jacob and in Zabuzhko's novel I was able to experience both states at the same time. In any case, I read everywhere, most often in an armchair by the balcony at home, because I love natural light and looking out at life outside my window from time to time. I often listen to non-fiction books while doing other work or walking the dog, unless it is a history or philosophy book – those I read on paper, pencil in hand.

Photographer: Boryana Pandova

You have experience with and impressions from libraries and reading rooms outside Bulgaria – what can we learn from them? What are the most interesting libraries you have visited?

I spent the last year in Delaware, which we jokingly call most unknown state in the United States, it's in the middle of nowhere. In the United States, getting around without a car is very difficult. However, almost every small town has a library, and there are often bike lanes leading to the libraries. Cards are free of charge, the collections are small, but the libraries are interconnected, so you can order a book from another library in the United States and pick it up at your nearest branch a few days later.

When I was studying in Paris, I spent an awful lot of time in several libraries, my favorite was the Sainte-Barbe Library because of its large windows (for the reasons mentioned above) and its proximity to the Pantheon. My university ID gave me access to most libraries, I sometimes visited them just to look and feel the pulse of the place, as was the case with the National Library in Paris. I will never forget the library in Nîmes, in the south of France, because it seemed like the ideal library – with a space where you could just sit and read today's newspaper while you charge your phone; with a specialized space for academic research and a general library area for pupils and students. All of this in a small town.

All of these things are missing in Bulgarian libraries and reading rooms, not to mention the shameful neglect of community centers, which are a great resource and need our attention. Even in the Sofia Library, which is my preferred library in Sofia, the books are displayed randomly, they are not alphabetically arranged, there is no comprehensible map for the different sections, nor have I seen thematic recommendations from librarians on pressing issues such as the war in Ukraine, which is very necessary because we understand the world through literature.

I donated most of the author's copies of my books to libraries, and when I went to see if readers could access them, it turned out that one was kept in storage and readers were not allowed to take it out of the building, and the other had not been entered into the system. This is the first time I have seen this practice, because unless it is an expensive edition, the reader should have access to each book and be able to borrow it, instead of the library keeping it as if in a museum, which makes no sense to me. These, of course, are subjective impressions, I may be wrong. And it is important to say that Bulgarian librarians and booksellers are doing their best, but are limited by a serious lack of financial and logistical support for the cultural sector. Even the greatest initiative will end up hitting the wall of inadequate management of cultural resources. I hope this can change, but in order for that change to happen – we need to talk about it, offer constructive criticism, contribute ourselves with donations, effort, time.

Photographer: Boryana Pandova

What are some books that left a strong impression on you since the beginning of this year?

I could never answer this question with a single title, it's impossible. I have already mentioned some above, and I will add the new translation of The Odyssey into English by Emily Wilson, which retains the original number of verses of the text, but changes the meter from the original dactylic hexameter to the more classical and natural for the English language iambic pentameter. For those who are not familiar, let me explain what a fine sense and use of the language this is – to take a classic text that rests on a certain structure, a scaffolding, and transfer it to another classical structure and scaffolding, to Shakespeare's English, without depriving the reader of the meaning of text. Wilson's work is also important because it counters the notion that classical texts must be full of archaisms and complex words in order to convey a sense of the historical period – on the contrary, she relies on a more direct language and the repeated phrases characteristic of Homer. I am currently reading a truly impressive book by the French historian Johann Chaputo, who examines Nazi ideology through its presence in everyday language and its control over "human resources."

Which subject will inspire your next book?

The subject is the same one I explored in Made of Guilt but I hope this time to approach it through a completely different narrative and maybe even genre – uppercase history and lowercase story which weave through everything. I'm interested in the role and meaning of personal choice and action in a perhaps extremely predestined world. But let's wait and see. For me, writing is wandering aimlessly through the unknown, so it is always difficult to answer this question.

When is it most difficult and when is it easiest for you to follow yourself? 

I always find it difficult because I want to take into account and understand the other person to the extent that I sometimes I lose myself in them. I am learning to take the time to talk to myself and to be more confident, especially when I can feel in my core that something is wrong, even though the world tries to convince me otherwise. With time, I find a balance between these two extremes.

This interview is part of the #followmyself series, which is supported by Fashion Days. 

Translated by Maria Vassileva