Lawrence Hill is one of Canada’s most distinguished and published authors. In this extensive interview, we discuss everything in Hill’s purview. In his words, “I have to say that I don’t think I’ve ever been interviewed by somebody who had such a profound grasp of such a wide variety of things that I’ve shared, written, or spoken about whether they are personal, professional or things to do with my books or my family life.” This series will explore his life and philosophy, just for you, part 8.
Scott Douglas Jacobsen: With respect to the prison population and literacy, how might someone volunteer for prisons in the area?
Lawrence Hill: Often, one of the best things to do is to align with an active, reputable organization. I have been one of many volunteers for a non-profit, charitable group called Book Clubs for Inmates. It distributes books without charge to inmates in federal penitentiaries and organizes book club discussions in those same institutions.
So a person who is interested in promoting reading and literacy among prisoners might choose to volunteer for a group such as Book Clubs for Inmates.
I have recently become a professor of creative writing at the University of Guelph in Ontario, and one form of community service that I have been contemplating would be to be a mentor or teacher of creative writing to prison inmates. That is something I plan to explore.
Jacobsen: The Book of Negroes discusses the narrative of Aminata Diallo. A young African stolen from Bayo, Mali and sailed to America and enslaved. She was the same age as your eldest child at the time. You had nightmares in constructing this narrative. It was painful. In fact, you worked to write past this part, quickly. What were the contents of those nightmares?
People being murdered, orphaned, thrown overboard into the sea, watching their families or villages being burned down. All of the things that happened in the book.
Jacobsen: You’ve volunteered with Crossroads International in Cameroon, Mali, Niger, and Swaziland. To name your protagonist, you used the common Malian name Aminata based on meeting a midwife in Mali. The name means “trustworthy” and Diallo means “bold.” Selecting the name for a character is vital, why this name?
It is vital. It is a beautiful name. It is a common name. It is as common as Mary and Joanne in Canada. I could have chosen another name. It struck me as an immensely beautiful name. It is a mouthful, Aminata, but not too much of a mouthful. In North America, it seems foreign, but accessible. I love the sound of it. All of the vowels. It evokes the name of a midwife who was dignified, splendid, and courageous in her work. With my daughter, it helped me imagine a young woman who was in a way my own daughter.
Jacobsen: Your recent novel, The Illegal (2015), focuses on a man that runs in a literal and metaphorical way. For instance, he was in a place, Zantoroland, where there were great runners. He hoped to join the Olympics. That was shoved to the side in a moment. He was running for life. In one part of The Book of Negroes, I noticed Aminata described African peoples are “travelling people” and moves out of necessity, akin to Keita Ali, throughout the novel from Bayo to Carolina to New York to Nova Scotia to Mali to London. I note a thread through these two texts with movement, history, ownership, literacy, bonds, and survival. Each seems like threads in The Book of Negroes and The Illegal. What were some other threads brought into the novel that reflect personal concerns about the downtrodden for you?
I am interested in movement, voluntary and involuntary. We can agree Aminata’s abduction in Africa, being sent to North America, and enslaved until freeing herself is a form of involuntary migration. She did not choose to leave a village in Africa. She did not choose to move to America and leave Africa. That was involuntary. Keita’s movement in The Illegal might be considered voluntary. He chooses to leave the country. Although, it is a country where he is not welcome. His movement is voluntary on the one hand, but he does not have many options. If he does not leave his country, he will be killed.
In an earlier novel of mine called Any Known Blood (1997), I followed a family of five generations of men who move back-and-forth between Maryland and Ontario. Each generation leaves one jurisdiction and goes into the other over five generations. Those were, for the most part, voluntary as well, but we have people escaping slavery.
For instance, we have the underground railroad. You might see that as voluntary, but attempting to save their lives and freedom at the same time. I am interested in migration, dislocation, and alienation. I have an interest in how identity alters in one’s eyes and in the eyes of those around you, especially as you move across the world or a piece of land. These seem to be continually arising issues: dislocation and marginality.
Many writers have themes to which they return in their books. For example, the Canadian novelist Jane Urquhart writes about people in the Irish diaspora and explores the lives of visual artists, over and over again in her books. My work is preoccupied by dislocation, migration, and alienation.
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Original Publication (1, 2, 3, and 4) in www.in-sightjournal.com.
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Photo Credit: Getty Images