Podcast
Culture
S&U interviews
5 min read

My conversation with... Marilynne Robinson

Re-Enchanting the human story. Belle Tindall reflects on the nature of her conversation with Pulitzer Prize winning author Marilynne Robinson for Seen and Unseen’s ‘Re-Enchanting’ podcast.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

A woman talks while tilting her head to one side.

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Professor Marilynne Robinson was a guest that I felt utterly underqualified to interview. And with Barack Obama among her list of previous interviewers, I don’t think such a feeling was unjustified. But, nevertheless, there I was - talking to a Pulitzer Prize winning force of nature - all the while, hoping she could neither sense my terror, nor hear my neighbours rowing through the thin walls of my tiny, terraced house.  

It was a surreal moment, to say the least.  

Marilynne Robinson, if you are not yet acquainted, is the author of best-selling novels such as Housekeeping, Gilead, Home, and Lila and Jack. Each one a masterpiece. She has also written plenty of non-fiction, continuing to be generous with her genius.  

Just before we began recording our episode over Zoom, my co-host, Justin, asked Marilynne whether she was able to somehow block the light streaming in from the windows behind her (needless to say he is the practical maestro behind Re-Enchanting), to which Marilynne simply replied: ‘many windows, no curtains.’ Oh gosh, I thought. This lady oozes philosophy.  

How would I ever keep up?  

I was always three steps behind Marilynne; partly because I imagine most people are, but mostly because it is a truly enchanting place to find oneself. 

Well, if I’m being honest, I didn’t. When the conversation turned to the quantum realm, I was indescribably glad that Justin was there. My mind was still pondering the possible analogous depths of curtain-less windows. But I have since decided that I’m not ashamed to admit that I was always three steps behind Marilynne; partly because I imagine most people are, but mostly because it is a truly enchanting place to find oneself.  

To trail behind someone so thoughtful means that while they may be onto their next thought or point of conversation, you are able to savour what has already been said, free to pick up and ponder the magnificent breadcrumbs that they have left in their wake. And when it comes to Marilynne Robinson, there are an awful lot of breadcrumbs. If you have ever read a line of a book that has struck you to the point of not being able to read on, even if only for a moment, then you are familiar with the sensation to which I am referring.  

When you come to listen to the episode of Re-Enchanting, I do hope that you’ll hit the pause button as often as you need to in order to truly soak Marilynne in. I only wish that my real-time conversation with her had that on offer. 

Nevertheless, here is what the view looks like from three steps behind Marilynne Robinson: it resembles a mysterious and wholistic fascination with, and (if I may be so romantic) a love for humanity. That is, both my own humanity and humanity in general. Mind, body, and soul (terms which, in themselves, are full of mystery and nuance) – the whole thing.  

Marilynne defines herself as a Christian Humanist. What may sound like somewhat of an oxymoron at first, begins to make profound sense when humanism is stripped of its (rather recent) atheist connotations. Afterall, the intrinsic value every person holds just because they are a person is a profoundly spiritual and biblical concept. As Tom Holland suggests, humanism, whether one likes it or not, is rooted in, and therefore utterly dependent upon, Christian perceptions of reality. When engaging with Marilynne, whether that be through conversation or through her work, it becomes clear that her Christianity enchants her view of humanity, which in turn, has re-enchanted my own.  

It is evident in the care and complexity with which she creates her characters, giving notable time and space to the intricate inner-workings of their consciousness, amplifying their inner-monologue, and focusing attention on their interior rejuvenations, how their sense of self responds to their shifting exterior contexts. It is just as obvious when you are privileged enough to observe her gently marvel over the beautiful capacities of the human mind, the innate mysteries of the human soul; the endless nuances of all that is seen and unseen when it comes to the human-being.  

Goodness seems to be Marilynne’s preferred start-line. Undergirding any humanism that she may adhere to is the notion that human beings were designed and created... 

It should be noted that such an admiration is not born out of an avoidance of the brokenness that human-beings are so prone to displaying. Indeed, this world does not offer any of us such a luxury. The evidence of the imperfection of humanity is easier to find than the evidence of any innate goodness. And yet, that goodness seems to be Marilynne’s preferred start-line. Undergirding any humanism that she may adhere to is the notion that human beings were designed and created, that there is an intimate creator / creation dynamic at play in the cosmos; one that is ultimately fuelled by the care of the creator for the created. There is, to borrow a phrase, a ‘givenness’ to all things.  

If we, like Marilynne, choose to use the givenness of things as a lens through which we perceive reality, there is utter delight to be found. 

It is an admittedly cosmic-sized enchantment, but the implications of it trickle all the way down to the detail of the every-day, the ordinary, the (so-called) mundane. If we, like Marilynne, choose to use the givenness of things as a lens through which we perceive reality, there is utter delight to be found in our streams of thought, in our capacity to collaborate with what is beyond our control. There is a deep enchantment to be found in our very existence, our presence in both space and time.  

As a disclaimer, I feel that I must admit to merely scratching the surface of the conversation that we had with Marilynne Robinson here, to read this piece and not listen to her episode (or read her work, for that matter) is to settle for a minute fraction of her thoughts. Trust me when I say - you want the whole thing.  

Here I am, three days on and still admittedly three steps behind Marilynne as I mentally re-trace the trajectory of our conversation. But that is quite alright with me, I’m still enjoying picking up each of the breadcrumbs that she left along the way.

Review
Ageing
Belief
Books
Culture
4 min read

Mine eyes have just read the best novel of the year

Quentin Letts’ Nunc! is a beautiful, moving and funny exploration of life, death and first century Jewish cuisine.
A book cover shows a cartoon man sitting on the title text while a dog sits below.

Historical fiction is my favourite genre of novel. Make it biblical historical fiction and you’ve sold me before I’ve cracked the spine! I bought a copy of Quentin Letts’ NUNC! without having read a single review or knowing anything about it… and what a sensible decision it was. Letts has produced a novel that combines his rapacious satirical wit, theological and historical acumen, and a beautiful sentimentality – the novel is dedicated to his brother Alexander, who died of cancer. 

It is inspired by the words of the Nunc Dimittis, as translated in the Book of Common Prayer. Sung by Simeon, as he holds the Christ child in his arms, they are words that are full of joy, because God has promised Simeon that he will not die until he has seen the Messiah. “Lord, now lettest thou now thy servant depart in peace,” it begins: words that are spoken or sung at every Evening Prayer in the Church and have provided hope and comfort for generations.

The novel opens with the character of Symons (no, I didn’t misspell it), a titanic literary concoction of corduroy, wax jacket, and mild middle-aged irritation, who lives in a classical English cathedral town. He receives a terminal cancer diagnosis. He has an argument with his wife, Anne (the typology is strong in this novel). He gets pissed. As he totters home from his local wine bar, he passes the cathedral and is captivated by the sound of singing.  

Upon entry he realises the choir is rehearsing the canticles for Evensong. He hides behind a pillar and kneels down in a pew. The Nunc Dimittis is rehearsed, and the heady combination of high emotion and fine wine sends him into a prayerful stupor. We are transported to first century Jerusalem and spend most of the rest of the novel in the company of Simeon and a cadre of his friends, acquaintances, and opponents. 

What follows is a series of hilarious vignettes, featuring a wide array of brilliantly sketched characters. Spending much of our time in ‘Deuteronomy Square’ we meet Rueben the tea seller, Tambal the slave (who has a fondness for Roman cuisine and a horrid aversion to gefilte fish), Noor the mad garlic seller, Jonah the hypocritical Pharisee, and Shlomo the dog. Through them, and many others, Letts allows the reader to explore the social, political, religious, and dietary life of the inhabitants of Jerusalem. 

The humour never vanishes, the confessional power never overwhelms, the lightness of touch is always present; and yet the novel takes on a new intensity...

How did the Judeans feel about the Romans? Were there ever friendships between Jew and Gentile oppressor? How did the average man or woman feel about Herod? What was their attitude to a priestly and religious hierarchy? Were the Wise Men buffoons? Letts weaves such themes through a narrative laden with the humour and heart-warming episodes that mark the best ‘slice-of-life’ writing. The people of first century Jerusalem might be separated from us by time, space, language, culture, and cuisine, but their highs and lows, their gripes and loves, their daily search for happiness and meaning, are no different to ours. 

Underpinning the story is Simeon’s daily watch for the promise of the Christ. Letts has ten verses from the Gospel of Luke as a foundation to build his protagonist, and four of these are a song. Undeterred, Letts uses Simeon as a cypher to explore further and deeper themes: youthful indiscretion, regret, passion, love, shame, faith, doubt.  

Letts also allows for a certain frisson of imaginative licence to round out his back-story. What was Simeon’s profession? Who were his parents? Did he know Anna the Prophetess? Why had God given him this task of watching and waiting, praying and hoping? Never overexplaining or labouring the point, Letts grants the reader a few moments of memory and introspection from the old man, but otherwise invites us to understand Simeon through his daily dealings with those around him.  

By the end of the novel we have not only one of the funniest characters of modern fiction, but one of the most spiritually and emotionally complex. I prepared to leave Simeon – encountering Mary, Joseph, and the infant Christ – feeling as if he was a member of the family.  

Letts concludes the novel with Simeon’s great biblical performance: ten verses which suddenly take on a remarkable poignant weight. The novel quietly switches gear to become a theological meditation worthy of any spiritual writer. The humour never vanishes, the confessional power never overwhelms, the lightness of touch is always present; and yet the novel takes on a new intensity and seriousness that took me by the hand and led me to look upon the mystery of life, death, truth, beauty, and goodness.  

It took me a while to make it through the final two chapters…my eyes kept misting with tears.  

If you only read one novel this year, please let it be NUNC! 

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