Mick Herron: "As a writer, I have a tendency towards cruelty."

BarcelonaFor most of his professional life, Mick Herron (Newcastle upon Tyne, 1963) worked in London in the legal department of a company, proofreading academic articles, manuals, and reports on workplace discrimination and unfair dismissal. When he had time off, he wrote crime novels, but couldn't find a publisher, until he created a group of misfits who work in a run-down department where agents expelled from MI5 headquarters for one reason or another end up. With Jackson Lamb and his spies, Herron has won the most prestigious awards in the genre. The latest, the Pepe Carvalho Prize, which he received this Thursday in Barcelona, ​​where he is participating in the BCNegra festival. The British writer is popular with both critics and the public: he has sold more than four million copies, his work has been translated into some twenty languages, and he has found success on television, which has adapted his novels. Slow horses and Zoë Boehm

Graham Greene, Ian Fleming, and John le Carré were spies before they became writers. You worked in the legal department of a company. What did you gain from that work experience?

— I haven't been a spy, but I did work in the office of a very small company, which was bought by a larger one, and then by an even larger one. I learned that the larger an organization becomes, the more dysfunctional and inhumane it tends to be. And I simply applied this to the intelligence service, thinking that, regardless of its aims and ideals, every organization is always run by people, and people always have their own ambitions and make bad decisions.

Instead of firing them, their spies are sent to a dilapidated department forgotten by everyone.

— It's very difficult to dismiss civil servants. Since you can't fire them, you have to make their lives as unpleasant as possible. And this happens in the real world. Clearly, the intelligence service is perhaps an exception. I worked for a long time as deputy editor of a law journal, and I believe that what I'm writing about couldn't happen in the real world.

What attracts you to these loser characters?

— Reading is an exercise in empathy. It's about understanding other people. I find it easier to imagine failures and unhappiness than success and heroism. Most of us live ordinary lives: we have to go to work on a rainy day, take the bus, go to an office, do a job that doesn't fulfill us, and then start all over again the next day. It might seem like a strange approach for a genre that deals with emotions, tensions, and mysteries, but it felt closer to the lives of ordinary people.

Much of the action, in fact, takes place in some rather unpleasant offices. And it goes into great detail.

— When I started writing, the first thing I had was the office. It's a real place; I passed through it every day on my way to my own office. I knew I had to make it unpleasant, because the point is to make people unhappy and want to quit. So there had to be dampness, bad smells, creaking wood... Everything is falling apart, and Lamb is a horrible, offensive figure, the beating heart of the office. I admit it. As a writer, I have a tendency toward cruelty.

It gets into the heads of all the characters, except Lamb. We don't know if it's horrible because it is, or because it's meant to provoke something.

— If I were to delve into the character and explore it, and show the reader what it's really like, everything would collapse. I wouldn't be able to continue writing. It's a necessary enigma.

Do you know what Lamb's ultimate fate will be?

— Yes, I know, but I'm not going to say anything [smiles].

There's a Charles Dickens book in which a character suffers from insomnia and wanders through London at night to reveal the city's hidden side. You, too, reveal the city's more unpleasant aspects, but in the 21st century.

— It is impossible to write about London without invoking the spirit of Dickens. Dickens owns London, in literary terms. And everyone who has written about London since owes him something. The city of London has changed, but the heart remains the same. When I wrote the beginning of Slow horsesI was thinking about the beginning ofThe big house by Dickens. He had extraordinary literary talent and his influence is undeniable.

Does he try to avoid other writers' creations or does he use them?

— I'm talking to other writers all the time. I engage in dialogue, especially with poets. I often include verses in my books. I read a lot of contemporary poetry, or poetry from the 20th century. The most obvious example I've done is the beginning of Bad actorsThe first line is by Robert Frost. And I had a lot of fun doing it. I changed it. I said, "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, and full of noisy bastards." So I took the beautiful lines he wrote, and then added some foul language.

In traditional spy novels, the context is the Cold War, and the enemy is therefore outside. In his, the enemy is within. There is no patriotism of the last century; instead, everyone is trying to save themselves.

— This is the prevailing trend, yes. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't show a more heroic or idealistic side. I think River Cartwright is an idealist. But in many ways, he gradually loses those ideals. He realizes that to be a successful spy, you have to betray everything, behave cruelly when necessary, not think about the consequences or the harm you might do to others, but only about the political objective. So it's all about disillusionment. And I think that's probably more true to life than portraying a spy who maintains their ideals and integrity throughout their entire career. I don't see how it would be possible to succeed in this world without betraying one's ideals.

Is it a reflection of today's society and also of the inefficiency of traditional institutions?

— It's becoming increasingly clear that our financial institutions have been involved in terrible things. Any large institution, if you investigate it, you'll eventually find terrible things. I have yet to find a single institution worthy of admiration that hasn't betrayed its ideals.

Political actions are becoming increasingly implausible. If five years ago someone had told us we would see what we see now, we might not have believed it. Does this make writing more difficult?

— All I can do is talk about the growing dangers of the contemporary world. Fascism is on the rise. Everything that's happening in the United States was unthinkable ten years ago. We have a man like Trump in power. Who could have predicted this? Who knows where we'll be in a few years? This uncertainty makes writing difficult, but at the same time, it makes it easier, because I can write about any absurd political situation, and no one can say it could never happen. We know the things that could go wrong, and they're related to technology and threats to democracy. People who work in technology probably have a much better idea of ​​where we'll be in ten years.

You don't have a mobile phone or Wi-Fi where you're writing. Is it better to write while disconnected from the world?

— I'm writing in an apartment disconnected from the world. I don't have Wi-Fi because I don't want to be distracted. I have music and books.

Writing is a solitary task. What was it like working with the screenwriters?

— I haven't written any scripts, but I've been in the meetings. I thought I'd hate it, because I love the solitude of being a writer. Solitude is very important to me, and I enjoy it. I was surprised, because those meetings energized me. Everyone in the room was very respectful of each other and of the material they were discussing, and that's encouraging.

His latest novel is set at the end of the Cold War. Has he grown tired of the 21st century?

— I'm not bored with the 21st century. I'm interested in how the past affects the present. It wasn't planned. It came about naturally and was a happy experience. The Cold War is the golden age of spy novels. And Berlin is at the heart of that world. Sooner or later, I had to write about Berlin. Even so, there's a contemporary element to it.

His books are very successful, both with readers and critics. Does he have a special knack for sensing what people like, or a keen eye for detail? Or does he simply write what he enjoys without considering whether it will be well-received? I interviewed Richard Osman some time ago, and he told me that he's always thinking, "Who will read my books?" and how to ensure they keep reading.

— Richard, who is a charming man, is much more aware of how to write a successful novel than I am. I wrote Slow horses For pure pleasure. It was the book I wanted to write, and I enjoyed writing it, so I kept writing like that. The first thing I published wasn't successful. It took years before the books were successful. I did the exact opposite of Richard. I did what I wanted.

He mentioned fascism. Do you think literature can be a tool against fascism?

— Empathy is a weapon against fascism in itself. And reading and writing are exercises in empathy. Books will always be on the front lines.