John Boyne: "Nowadays, the slightest offense can lead to terrible problems."

BarcelonaJohn Boyne (Dublin, 1971) returns to Catalan bookstores with his most attractive character, with permission fromThe boy in the striped pajamas: Maurice Swift, an aspiring writer as seductive as he is ruthless. A stairway to heaven, Published in English in 2018, it portrays the daring path to literary glory of this Tom Ripley, from Nazi Germany to the present day, in a kind of treatise on ambition and morality in artistic circles. The publication of the novel (in Catalan by Empúries with a translation by Jordi Cussà and Anna Camps; and in Spanish by Salamandra) has coincided with a new controversy over Boyne that has caused the Irish writer to cancel his promotional trip, for which he responds to the ARA via email. The organizers of the LGBTIQ+ Polari literary prize have suspended this year's edition due to the boycott by some authors for having preselected the novel. Earth, from Boyne. They criticize the author for declaring himself a "fellow TERF" (an acronym for trans-exclusionary radical feminist) and a defender of JK Rowling. The author sees it as a new attempt to cancel it..

Its protagonist, Maurice Swift, is the embodiment of determination and unscrupulousness. What would you have given as a young man to have the literary success he also aspires to?

— I was also very ambitious and eager to pursue a literary career, but I would never have gone as far as Maurice. He's a sociopath! The difference between us is that I've always had a fertile imagination and have been able to come up with ideas for stories and novels, while he is skilled as a writer but lacks imagination—a terrible curse.

Maurice's talent is not literary, but rather his ability to identify and take advantage of the people who will help him make a leap forward or return to the headlines. The most intriguing thing is that victims They don't see it coming, while the reader does.

— It's always interesting when the reader is one step ahead of the characters because they recognize their mistakes as they're making them. I like the idea of the antihero. I'm also drawn to the idea of someone so charming and handsome that everyone in the room immediately wants to be his friend. I can't imagine what it's like to be that person or have that power over others. Even those who suspect Maurice don't want to suspect him.

She takes advantage of her beauty to first seduce a renowned author, then a popular writer, a promising young writer, a literary magazine, and a young biographer. In the first case, Erich Ackermann, whom she calls "a fool in love in a very dangerous time," confesses a secret from his past to Nazi Germany, catapulting Maurice to fame. It's a case of instant cancellation. Did she think about the scandals that are amplified on social media today?

— Yes, of course. The idea that everyone has lived an exemplary life is ridiculous. Erich made terrible mistakes in his youth, mistakes he's felt ashamed of all his life and has tried to atone for, but he also knows that revealing these secrets will destroy his reputation. Of course, what he did was extreme and happened during Nazi Germany, but today even the smallest offense can cause terrible problems for anyone in a public life. We live in a very cruel world, full of people driven by envy. They'll take any opportunity to harm someone who has achieved something.

After the Polari Prize case, it's easy to draw a parallel with the book. You've lived through several controversies due to his public opinionsDo you feel that the privilege of being able to stop writing whenever you want gives you freedom?

— The Polari Prize drama has been absolutely ridiculous. It's a case of a group of debut authors trying to draw attention to their work by feigning outrage at the fact that an experienced novelist, who happens to hold different opinions than their own, was a finalist for the prize. And on top of that, it wasn't even me who was shortlisted, but my novel, something entirely different, but these neophytes refused to understand that. It was very disappointing that the organizers capitulated to the intimidation and harassment, but this is the world we live in. Having the freedom to stop writing whenever I want is certainly a great gift, and I am grateful to all the readers who have bought so many of my books over the years. Nothing in the world could make me stop writing novels. It's my calling, it's what I want, and it's what I was born to do.

As someone who has fostered the careers of young writers, have you ever encountered candidates who approached you with hidden agendas?

— I'd say most have thanked me, but there have been some who have manipulated me a bit or taken advantage of my generosity. I don't think it's exclusive to the publishing world; I imagine it happens in all sectors. But it's never made me want to be a different person than who I am.

As is often the case, the novel is rooted in history. Aside from Nazism and the fall of the Berlin Wall, a real-life figure appears, the writer Gore Vidal, during his stay in Italy. Why did you choose him and make him the most lucid character?

— I just wanted a writer who was real, and I've always loved his books. Since Vidal was also gay, it might seem like he would be precisely the type of person who would fall for Maurice's manipulations and charm, but I thought only he could recognize this man's true nature. He would have caught him right away. He wouldn't have allowed himself to be one of his victims. It's a part of the book I thoroughly enjoyed writing, and I hope that if Gore Vidal had been alive, he would have enjoyed it very much.

The novel satirizes the literary world: the rivalries, the betrayals, but also the unbridled admiration and love for literature. You've often said that this world isn't that important. What weighs more heavily on you?

— What matters most to me are the books themselves. I have many writer friends, and there are many authors whose public standing I admire, but what really interests me are the novels. When you've worked in an industry for 33 years, as I have, it's hard not to become a little cynical about how it works, but generally speaking, I think publishing is still a respectable sector, full of people who believe in the power and importance of literature above all else.

A stairway to heaven delves into the psychology of writers. Looking at Erich Ackermann and Maurice Swift, do you think professional ambition diminishes over the years, leaving real life to itself? In other words, is it a disease that heals with age?

— I don't think ambition should be in contrast to real life or honesty. I'm as ambitious as I was when I was younger. I try to write the most authentic novels I can. I want to make books that move people, that challenge them, and make them reflect on the world. Every time I sit down to write, I want my new novel to be the best I've ever written. We've all probably read writers who, as they get older, seem to write out of inertia, but I hope I'm not one of them.

At one point, you mention experimental novels, plotless fiction. Like Theo Field, I assume you prefer "novels with a traditional outline, with a plot, with characters, and well-written."

— Yes. I would never dare tell other writers how they should create their books, but I prefer the traditional novel. A good story, interesting characters, powerful dialogue, and themes that are both interesting and provocative. Sometimes I feel like experimental writing is so full of gimmicks that it ends up distracting the reader from its essential emptiness. But everyone should write what they want to write, just as I will read what I want to read.

With this book, you answer two of the questions you're probably asked most often in interviews. The first: "Where do you get your ideas?" And the second: "What does success mean to you?" After publishing 28 books in 25 years (in fact, this book is from 2018, eight books ago!), the first question doesn't seem like a problem, but has your answer to the second changed over time?

Yes, it's probably changed. At the beginning of my career, success was about having a readership, preferably international, and being able to write novels without having to do any other work. Now, success is less about the commercial element and more about writing books that will stand the test of time. I think I've written some that will. I'd like to think that, hundreds of years from now, readers will still be thrilled by The boy in the striped pajamas, The invisible furies of the heart, A stairway to heaven and the quartet of The elements (not translated). But unfortunately, I won't be around to see it!