'We Are Not As Advanced As We Think We Are': An Interview With Ros Barber

Ros Barber may be one of the most innovative and thought-provoking authors currently writing in the UK. 

Her first novel, The Marlowe Papers, was a prose poem told from the point of view of Christopher Marlowe, the playwright and spy who some believe was the true author of Shakespeare’s plays. Lyrical, tense and gripping, the book was nominated for a slew of awards, winning The Desmond Elliot Prize. Her most recent book, Devotion, seems on the surface to be a complete change of direction: a science-fiction tinged exploration of psychology, reason and faith, told in prose. There are connections, though; both novels show Barber’s desire to play with narrative structure and question mainstream beliefs, as well as her extraordinary ability to craft hauntingly beautiful descriptions. In this interview, Barber discusses outsiders, the nature of belief, and her own writing habits.

Read my review of Devotion here

On the surface, Devotion seems like a departure from your previous novel, in terms of setting and form - did your approach to writing it differ? And was it difficult to adjust, if so?

It would be madness to write another novel in verse, since so many people were too scared to even attempt to read The Marlowe Papers, so it was bound to be different in form. Nor have I any desire to be pigeon-holed as a historical novelist, so it had to be different in setting. These were both conscious decisions.  But I also wanted an opportunity to explore a subject that deeply interests me, and which is very much grounded in the 21st century. My approach to writing the book was different in that it didn't require a year's historical research before I began, but it did involve a certain amount of scientific research, and about a year's thinking. I didn't have a framework of historical evidence to write around, so the structure had to arise organically.  But it wasn't difficult to adjust; I wrote three unpublished prose novels before I wrote The Marlowe Papers, so essentially it was a return to my normal way of working.

There are parallels between the character April in Devotion and your portrayal of Christopher Marlowe; both are anti-heroes who are ostracised from society for holding beliefs which fall outside of the accepted norms. Do you find yourself particularly drawn to this sort of outsider figure?

I see more parallels between Logan and Marlowe; grief-stricken men who have made bad decisions and are haunted by their past.  But I get your point. Many writers feel like outsiders, I'm sure.  And as to people who hold beliefs which fall outside the accepted norms, I'm one of them.  Feeling ostracised isn't an issue now, but was certainly a strong experience from my school days, so perhaps that's what I'm tapping into and you're picking up upon.

When did the idea for Devotion come to you? Is the conflict between religion and humanism a long-standing interest for you?

I can date the idea to a certain day in April 2011. Sceptre were about to offer for The Marlowe Papers and wanted to know what I was working on next. I had no idea, so I asked myself the question, and went for a walk. A few ideas surfaced but this was the one that stuck. After a few months, when I realised it wasn't going away, I committed to writing it.  As to religion and humanism; yes, of about ten years' standing. Like many people, I have some serious issues with religion, but in the last few years I've developed some serious issues with atheism too.  Both have a way of shoving their 'truth' down your throat. Personally I think both of these belief frameworks are deeply flawed.  Religion and atheism are both too rigid in their constructs to accommodate the reality that I experience.

Devotion asks the reader to consider whether we lose something as a society by privileging the empirical reasoning over faith, and whether the quest for perfection is positive or not. What are your own views on these issues?

This is the hardest question to answer. Partly, because I didn't consciously ask those questions!  But you're saying  that these are questions the book ended up making you think about, so I'll see what I can do.  The only useful things I could share about reasoning vs faith is that it's possible to have both.  I count myself a rational person. Like both my parents, my first degree was in science.  My academic work is built upon evidence and logical argument. Without these things we would be lost.

But I also recognise, and recognised even as an undergraduate, that there are things that our current science struggles to explain. The sense of being stared at is one that has bothered me since the 1980s, and in 2003, a biologist I much admire, Rupert Sheldrake, finally wrote a book about it. We are not as advanced as we think we are.  Just because we don't currently have the instruments to measure something, doesn't mean that thing doesn't exist. Think radiowaves 120 years ago. When Marconi first broached the idea of communicating wirelessly, he was considered insane.

My experiences over the last decade have led me to conclude that my attitude towards things genuinely shifts the world around me in a way that rationalist materialism would have me deny. I suspect that this effect will one day be adequately explained by quantum physics. Like the researchers at IONS and certain other institutions, I have come to understand human consciousness somewhat differently from the model I was taught during my science degree.  Ditto the primacy of DNA, for though I once (like all my Biology graduate peers) subscribed to Dawkins' Selfish Gene theory, I find the new science of epigenetics more compelling.  It is also, rather importantly in a society that encourages us to think of ourselves as victims of our DNA, empowering.  Bruce Lipton's Biology of Belief turned my 30-years-outdated degree on its head. So to summarise, as a result of science, I have come to understand that faith (but not necessarily Faith) is critical to my happiness.

What is your writing routine like? Do you write at home, or go out? Music, or silence?

Home, silence.  I've very easily distracted, so I have to isolate myself as much as possible. I have a red light outside my study door for when I'm not be disturbed. I wrote in public places to get this novel off the ground, because I was running scared into the arms of the internet. Writing in the library was purgatory, though; they're not silent any more. People answer their phones and texts, have conversations; one person opposite me even starting eating carrots.  Most cafes play music. So I bought myself a copy of Freedom and went back to working from home.

Which current writers do you most enjoy reading?

This is a horrible question for me. As a result of trying to fit writing around job and family, I have insufficient time for reading.  Mostly, reading must be squeezed into the infrequent parts of train journeys where I am standing up and have no room to open my laptop. With the exception of Hilary Mantel and Graham Greene I don't tend to work in terms of whole writers, anyway, I read a book at a time.  Rarely are they very current, since I am in a constant state of catching up, and have to do a great deal of 'enforced reading' around my work!  Books I have enjoyed in the last year include Time's Arrow by Martin Amis, The Year of Reading Dangerously by Andy Miller, A Room With A View by E.M.Forster and The Hours by Michael Cunningham. Three of those were set texts on courses I am teaching! I have two fairly recent novels loaded onto my Kindle for next week's holiday and several books I have been given or loaned sitting beside my bed waiting patiently to be picked up. You have tapped into a constant source of guilt.

What are you working on next?

Too early to say.