"I
carry a gun," Juan said, "so that when I talk, people will
listen. So that when I want something done, people will do it. Never
again will I be treated like dirt, like sucios. If I get shot, so be
it. I will die with my dignity."
Hector, who spoke English with no accent, who went to school with Russians
and Vietnamese and Lebanese and South Americans, said, "I don't
understand."
"Good," his father replied. "And I hope you never will."
The last twelve months have seen the emergence of a number of extraordinary
new voices in writing for the young adult audience, voices that are taking
on new themes, and new ways of telling stories. Not least amongst the
remarkable fictions being produced by authors such as Catherine Jinks,
Melina Marchetta and Gary Disher is Jonathan Harlen's first novel for
young adults, The Lion and the Lamb. (Hodder and Stoughton, 1992.)
Like Disher, Harlen has previously published for the adult market; his
first novel The Greening of Copeland Park was published in 1991.
The Lion and the Lamb is an important contribution to the body
of fiction for young adults, both for its honest and compassionate exploration
of the relationship of the central characters, and the controlled beauty
of Harlen's prose. For those who do not know the novel, it is the story
of Nicaraguan emigres Juan Castillo and his son Hector. Juan and Hector
live in a high-rise block in inner-Sydney, where Juan nurses his hangovers
by cleaning his gun, and thrives on a feud with a Russian family upstairs.
Hector is a pacifist, creative and practical, who struggles to understand
his father's burden of rage. It is a novel which explores the nature,
causes and ramifications of conflict; conflict between father and son,
between races, between the (implied) traumas of the past and the search
for peace and security in the character's present lives.
The great strength of Harlen's narrative lies in the understated and
unsensational way in which he deals with these conflicts, and with questions
of prejudice and violence. In his short, impressive novel, Harlen has
addressed some of the most pressing questions facing the children of migrant
families like the Castillos with great respect and empathy, and at times
even a gentle humour. Via the miracle of the fax, Jonathan and I discussed
his motivation and techniques in exploring the lives of Hector and Juan
Castillo.
****************
I think that possibly the most admirable thing about The Lion and
the Lamb is the understated and unsensational way you have dealt with
the difficult questions of prejudice and violence. You've addressed issues
that are terribly pertinent to a lot of children of migrant families and
personalized these issues. Hector and Juan, the Stolkovs, are people before
they are Nicaraguan, Russian or whatever, and their lives are significant
before the "politics" enter into it. We feel very much that
we are reading about a relationship first and foremost- yet it is a political
novel; pacifist, anti-racist, pro-multiculturalism (yet it's not a "multi-cultural"
novel either.) And you've chosen not to dwell on the horrors that it is
likely that Juan faced, even though they are the likely cause of his aggression.
His past is only alluded to (pp 43-44), and Juan himself has rejected
everything about his previous life, even the good things. Why did you
choose not to make his past, and therefore the reasons for his present
behaviour more explicit?
The style of The Lion and the Lamb was influenced strongly by
Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. Hemingway manages to express
passion in a very restrained way which gives his central character a tremendous
amount of dignity, and that is what I tried to achieve with Juan. Juan
could easily have been a man with no dignity at all, simply another violent
drunkard, but in that case Hector's continued love for him would not have
rung true. Also I think part of Juan's dignity lies in his mystery, the
fact that we don't know much about him and are left asking questions.
I did try to fill in all the gaps in Juan's past, I wrote material about
his life as a fisherman and the death of his wife, but in the end it came
out only as a short rambled sequence which he spoke when he was drunk.
Hector
went to school two blocks away, in a small concrete valley between large
concrete hills, near an intersection of asphalt rivers which ran into
the busiest part of the city....
The urban landscape is of thematic and symbolic significance to both The
Lion and the Lamb and The Greening of Copeland Park. Harlen's
depiction of the urban landscape is harsh, and in many ways it is a place
of great ugliness and cruelty, yet it is significant that 14-year-old
Hector, the central character of The Lion and the Lamb, does
not want to move from his high-rise home to the suburbs with his father
Juan and Juan's girlfriend Chela. Community is important in this environment;
this is especially true in The Greening of Copeland Park, and
a sense of community is seen as the essential element for survival in
the tensions of the multi-cultural world of The Lion and the Lamb.
While the city is the backdrop to violence, bigotry & unfulfillment,
it is not presented by Harlen as the cause of his character's problems.
I asked Jonathan about these issues, and his attitude to urban life;
My attitude to the city is certainly ambivalent. I moved to the country
three years ago because I wanted to write more or less full-time and also
to start a family: to do both things in Sydney I would have had to resort
to robbing banks. I have a great deal of affection for the city as a diverse
and chaotic backdrop to so many different lives, anyone interested in
human nature can't help to be drawn to it because of this. Obviously in
my writing I tend to focus on people in vulnerable circumstances who are
not shielded from the chaos, who must confront it head-on. But ultimately
that takes in all of us; even if you're Howard Hughes and making a million
dollars a minute you can't escape the underside.
As to whether the city is ugly and cruel, well, I don't think it's my
intention to portray that. If you look at one of the high-rise tenement
developments around Redfern or Surrey Hills you might say yes that's ugly
but then if you imagine Juan and Hector and Chela living in there you
can see it is a place where real lives are unfolding and those lives can
be quite inspirational.
Narrative voice in y.a. & children's fiction is frequently tied closely
to the protagonist(s), even in third person narrative, the idea being
that younger readers like to closely identify with a character in order
to become involved in the text. The narrative voice of The Lion and
the Lamb, however, is somewhat detached from both character and action.
What made you decide on this approach?
The restrained nature of the narrative voice also has to do I think with
my reluctance to impose judgements, I don't mean to portray what happens
as shocking or unconscionable, that's simply what happens. A good scene
should be able to stand on its own without embellishment, and a primary
aim of my writing is always to say what I have to say as simply as possible.
"I've seen your boy play soccer," Raol said. "He's a
very good player."
... "My son is no Maradona," Juan said. "My son is a
coward."
The spitefulness of this remark surprised everyone, even Juan himself.
The novel is interested in notions of power and strength, both real and
perceived. The balance between the portrayal of the relative strengths
and weaknesses of Hector and Juan provides the novel with a great deal
of its tension and meaning. Juan has very high aspirations for Hector,
which is, I think, quite typical of many migrant families. This in itself
can cause tension, when the parent's and the child's desires do not coincide,
and in some instances becomes a distortion of the freedoms the parents
were seeking for their children in emigrating (or escaping) in the first
place.
The father-son conflict is a very powerful one and one which has a compelling
interest for me, growing up as I did for the most part without a father.
In the case of The Lion and the Lamb it is the son who is the
repository of wisom and true moral authority.... the father, Juan, who
is in the position of authority, in fact uses it irresponsibly. Apart
from shooting the Stolkov's goldfish and fighting with Mr Stolkov at the
soccer match Juan also acts irresponsibly toward Hector, forcing him to
clean house and study all the time, berating him for being only an average
student. He is a man driven by a vision of a better future but he has
no real conception of how to achieve it. Like many of us he holds academic
and financial success to be the most important measures, but Hector offers
the true way to a better future simply through his dealings with others;
the way he resolves his conflicts with the Stolkov brothers and forms
a bond with the sister Anna.
In a deeply symbolic novel, Christian imagery dominates, which I feel
adds to the "Everyman", fable-like tone of the story, as does
the narative style we discussed earlier. The central symbol of the boat
has (for this reader, at least) quite a few levels of meaning. Tell me
about your choices of symbolism in the book; were these conscious choices,
easily arrived at?
I have a lingering concern that the Christian symbolism in The Lion
and the Lamb might have been overdone. I was aware at sevaral points
in the novel (especially at the end) that I was probably hammering the
mahogany but so far the book hasn't elicited that sort of response. The
symbols I like to use most a workaday things like boats and guns and fish...
and parks, as in my adult novel The Greening of Copeland Park.
But always the story comes first, I take the conflicts between my characters
and work on them to see if they have some kind of symbolic resonance and
if so I keep working.
(Hector) looked around the lift at the collection of closed faces, then
felt the gentle pressure of Anna's arm against his own. What if this
was all there was in the world? he wondered. Eight people, a broken
lift, and no emergency telephone. He would settle for this pressure,
this braided hair, this friendship. That was more important than anything,
even a blessing from God.
The novel indicates that the hope for reconciliation between the many
peoples of this country lies with the young; yet racism is all too common
amongst teenagers and children, even those whose parents, if not themselves,
have emigrated or escaped to Australia. Is this hope something you really
believe in, is it something you are trying to "promote" through
your book?
The book is certainly a fable on the theme of reconciliation but I must
say personally that I'm quite a fatalist, I don't believe there will ever
be an end to the conflicts of race, class and gender. I think people's
attitudes toward these things are forged somewhere very deep in the mind,
far beyond the public realm in which a writer has any influence. Actually
I think very little.... possibly nothing at all.... is decided or altered
in the public realm, which isn't to say we shouldn't keep trying. T.S.
Eliot put it well in East Coker when he said, "For us there is only
the trying, the rest is not our business." I do believe in multiculturalism,
I believe it is this country's defining characteristic, and while I'll
throw my weight behind it as best I can I would be surprised if I ever
changed anything.
Your first published novel was written for adults; what prompted you to
write for a younger audience? Do you think you will continue to write
for a younger audience?
I didn't really set out to write for a younger audience. I had in mind
to write a book about a feud between two migrant families, but then I
added the father-son element, with a 14-year-old-boy as the central character,
and that made it work a lot better. I am certainly hoping to write more
books in the same vein, dealing with urban and multi-cultural themes,
but whether or not they will be for a younger audience I don't know.
The reviews I've read of The Lion and the Lamb so far have been
excellent. Have you had much response to the book from younger readers?
I've obviously been very pleased with the reviews of the book, and the
responses from people who've read it have been equally encouraging. I
haven't had a chance to get out to schools or book fairs or anything of
that nature, I lead something of a hermit's existence out here on the
fringes of civilisation.
Are you happy with the cover? The colours seem to me to exactly represent
the "colours" of your prose.
I must agree with you about the cover, the credit for which must not
only go to the artist, Greg Rogers, but to my editor Belinda Yuille. If
there was an award for young adult's book cover of the year I'm sure we'd
win it, but unfortunately there isn't. Perhaps you might like to do something
about that Judith.

Jonathan Harlen
|