The line between 'food for thought' and didacticism
A conversation between Alison Layland and Linda Newbery
Linda and Alison were introduced to one another through the Climate Fiction Writers’ League, which they both discovered at a Society of Authors event by founder Lauren James on including climate issues in fiction (watch here). Here, they discuss their approaches to tackling climate-related issues in their writing and their lives.
Alison’s novel Riverflow is set in Wales, a psychological thriller about an off-grid couple facing floods, fracking and family secrets.. Linda’s most recent book is a non-fiction title This Book is Cruelty Free - Animals and Us.
Linda Newbury: I enjoyed your novel Riverflow very much. As far as I’m aware, most of what’s come to be called ‘cli-fi’ is futuristic, so I especially liked your book’s setting in the here and now, rather than in some cataclysmic future. Do you know of other books like yours, set in the present, dealing with the practicalities of everyday life and showing how the effects of climate change are already being felt? (eg with the ever-present risk of flooding in your novel, and its impact on the characters). In my post about your book on Writers Review, I mentioned my irritation with “fiction set in the present day that makes no reference to the climate emergency – especially when characters are taking flights here and there, driving big cars and eating steak in restaurants. It’s almost as if there’s a parallel world to ours with no looming crisis and with no need to change and adapt.” Is this your view, too? Are we seeing a shift in awareness in fiction, and if so, is it more than just token references in what might be called ‘virtue signalling?’
Alison Layland: Thank you. I’m glad to say I’m finding more and more cli-fi novels set in a believable present or near-future. One that immediately springs to mind is When the Lights Go Out by Carys Bray, which I confess I enjoyed particularly because one of the protagonists, Chris, reminds me very much of Bede in Riverflow. Others include Laline Paull’s The Ice, and eco-thriller The Burning Time by Hanington, which are less every-day but nevertheless an excellent way of drawing readers of fiction in and encouraging them to think about the issues. The Overstory by Richard Powers, one of my favourite books of recent years, brought environmental awareness to prominence with its Booker shortlisting.
LN: I’ll add Eleanor Catton’s Birnam Wood to that list, too, set in her native New Zealand. Your book, like hers, is exemplary in that environmental awareness is part of the strong characterisation of Elin and Bede, part of their thinking about every aspect of their lives - how they heat their home, run their tractor, power their mobile phones, grow their food. And you’ve done this without artifice, as part of a cleverly-constructed plot.
AL: Thank you; I really enjoyed Birnam Wood, too, so that’s a massive compliment. I certainly agree that there’s an irritating amount of fiction that ignores the climate crisis, even the effects that are being felt today. However, it’s unfortunate that this reflects reality – so often in the news a climate-related issue such as a weather event is mentioned without the climate-change background, or a business report such as ever-increasing numbers of leisure flights is seen as unqualified good news for the economy, with no reference to the emissions implications. So many people (understandably) just want to live their lives and so put the issues to the backs of their minds, and I think fiction is a reflection of this. However, although novels are seen as a form of escapism – something we all need from time to time – I’m surprised how little reference, even just a brief mention in passing here and there, is made to the issues and effects of climate change and biodiversity loss. I think things are improving, though. And it's a fine line between providing food for thought and didacticism, isn’t it? I tried to overcome this by making it part of the characterisation of Bede and Elin, with both good and bad aspects; I’m glad you think it works. It’s hard to know how to reach out to new readers with topics that some may find difficult or preachy, but are nevertheless essential for people to think about. Is this what inspired you to move from fiction to your really relatable non-fiction guide, This Book is Cruelty Free?
LN: Thanks, Alison. My first published novel, Run with the Hare, was about a sixth-form girl who gets involved with an animal rights group. Although animal and environmental issues are in the background of several of my books since, I hadn’t put them centre-stage since then, and thought it was about time I did. At first I was thinking of a new novel but then it occurred to me to turn to non-fiction, where I could cover so much more. I looked around at what was already published, and found that although there are several books for younger readers on ‘Saving the Planet’ and a great deal on wildlife and nature conservation, there wasn’t anything that looks at our daily lives and choices, particularly at what we eat, so I thought my book might fill that gap.
AL: I think you achieve that really well. I love the way you present facts and anecdotes, and leave people to make their own decisions. The personal nature of many examples in your book are what make it so relatable. How did you choose what to include? Was it hard to think of the examples you use?
LN: Not really - I’d say that the hardest part was what to leave out! I felt that the book needed the anecdotes (there were more of them in the first draft) to avoid the suggestion that I’ve got all the answers about avoiding cruelty altogether. There are obvious things we can do, especially regarding what we eat, but also - because we live in a consumerist society - things it’s very difficult to avoid. Almost all of us, for example, have benefitted from medicines tested on animals - something I chose not to cover in the book, as I wanted to focus on our everyday actions and the things we can control in our own lives. So with animal experimentation, I wrote about cosmetics and toiletries, where there’s no justification for animal testing, and we can easily make cruelty-free choices if we take the trouble.
There’s a saying about recycling: ‘It doesn’t need a handful of us doing things perfectly - it needs millions of us doing it imperfectly.’ That applies to many other things besides recycling - trying to live cruelty-free isn’t all or nothing, and for most people there will be dilemmas and grey areas.
One of mine is that I’ve always had cats - just one at the moment but once as many as four - and feed them meat, so I’m paying for meat and therefore for animal cruelty. All the cats have been rescued or rehomed; I’ve never bred or bought any, so I’m looking after animals that needed to be cared for, not bringing more into the world … but you can see that I have to justify it to myself. In the book I wanted to show that there are such dilemmas.
AL: I know what you mean - life wouldn’t be the same without cats (and/or dogs). Like many things, we need to weigh the options and come to a decision, which is a completely different matter from choosing to ignore problems and dilemmas.
LN: Back to Foxover, your setting! Living in a rural village myself, I find your portrayal of local tensions and allegiances completely convincing - entitled country landowners with their conviction that nothing must disturb their traditions, versus people who are doing their best to protect nature and hate hunting and shooting (there are several hound packs around here). Does this come from your own experience?
AL: The tensions are fascinating, aren’t they? I’ve lived in various villages over the years in different parts of the UK and, although I love the variety of people you get to know in a close-knit community, the undercurrents can be strong – even more so in these days of community Facebook groups. (I deliberately didn’t go down that particular rabbit-hole in the novel!) Although I didn’t draw on any particular incident, experience of living in rural communities definitely coloured the way I portray the fictional Foxover.
Although I think the old chestnut ‘write what you know’ should be taken with a pinch of salt, personal experience really can help bring writing to life. I’m sure you’ve found the same.
LN: Bede is a fascinating character - principled, determined, sometimes infuriating to others besides Elin. His local nickname, Eco, seems to be used by others to distance themselves - that’s the attitude we often see with Just Stop Oil protestors, for instance, and the Daily Mail tag of ‘eco-zealots’, positioning them/us as unrepresentative of ‘ordinary’ people. It perpetuates the notion that the climate and nature crises are someone else’s problem, and that we can just continue with our daily lives, making perhaps token gestures with recycling while waiting for the government to act (!) Bede hates labels, and knows that when locals call him ‘Eco’ or ‘hippy’ it’s a way of denying their own responsibilities. How do you respond to this kind of labelling, if it happens to you?
AL: Yes, just as you say in your book ‘there is no “away”’ – as in the phrase ‘throw something away’ – I can’t help wondering who ‘they’ are who will sort things out! To be honest, I’ve rarely been labelled myself (to my face, at least), and if I have, it’s the sort of thing I’m quite happy to ‘own’ (e.g. ‘hippy’ or ‘lefty’) or just shrug off. The worst has been the whataboutery on the local Facebook group, when I’ve posted something about an action: ‘I bet they all use mobile phones’ or ‘I bet they all drove there in their cars’. Rather than get drawn in and point out the merits of Fairphones, or the fact that I have an electric car but went there on public transport (EVs being part of the solution but not the solution), I try to point out that it’s not down to the minutiae – something has to be done globally, and what ideas do they have about tackling the situation?
LN: Yes - I’ve certainly been on the receiving end of such comments! That kind of ‘whataboutery’ is invariably a way of avoiding engagement, and refusing even to consider changing ingrained habits.
I recognise aspects of myself in Bede. Not his practicality or problem-solving cleverness (sadly), but his inability to resist making the kind of remarks that Brian in the pub calls ‘preaching’. Elin has a more conciliatory role with village neighbours, usually choosing tact over confrontation, though she is just as determined in a quieter way; in fact she’s more drawn to activism, which Bede has abandoned in favour of concentrating on living as sustainably as possible at Alderleat. Which of the two is closer to your own position?
AL: It's a combination of the two, really. While I was writing the book, I was definitely of the ‘get on with your life’ persuasion. However, as the book was being readied for publication, Extinction Rebellion emerged on the scene. We’ve had a really active group in Oswestry from the start, following a well-attended public meeting in early 2019, and as well as being delighted to be among so many like-minded people, I went to the major Rebellion in London in April 2019, followed by more, in Cardiff in the summer and London again in the autumn of the same year. This was my first experience of activism (apart from a day spent visiting the anti-fracking site at Preston New Road a few months before, as research for the novel) and it was a really empowering experience; however, having made our mark and, I like to think, shifted public opinion a little, with public bodies from the government to local Parish Councils declaring climate emergencies, a fine line has emerged between achieving change and turning people against the movement. Currently I’m focusing more on local activities, in particular the Climate Action Hub we’ve recently set up in Oswestry, in the hope that when there are future actions, such as the Restore Nature Now march in June (restorenaturenow.com), people will be more sympathetic, as ‘they’ – activists – turn out to be ‘those nice people’ doing all that good work locally. Change really needs to happen faster, and be embraced nationally and globally, but we have to do what we can.
LN: Yes - the popular press (looking at you, Daily Mail) really has to stop presenting climate protestors as extremists, as ‘them’ rather than ‘us’. We all need to be eco-zealots, their favourite insult! Extinction Rebellion’s The Big One last April, and the March for Nature this June, bring together all kinds of interest groups, from Just Stop Oil to the National Trust, representing a cross-section of society, ages and concerns. This is far too big to ignore, or sideline.
What do you think are the best ways of encouraging people to take responsibility for their own decisions? The two that engage me most are meat-eating and flying. I do a lot of campaigning to encourage a shift towards plant-based eating, and by now must have heard all the defences people put up: ‘I only eat local grass-fed meat’, ‘What about vegan food flown halfway across the world’, ‘You can’t get protein from plants’, ‘It’s vegans trying to force their choices on everyone else’, etc etc. As for flying - so many people don’t question that they’ll fly on holiday, even for short breaks, or on several flights each year. We seem to be divided into those who care deeply about these things and those who don’t even consider them, or don’t want to. Can you see that changing? I didn’t talk about flying in my book, but when it comes to meat-eating there simply isn’t a reasonable objection to at least cutting down.
AL: I think attitudes are changing, though more gradually than the planet needs. Engaging, positive books such as This Book is Cruelty Free are a great help. Even as someone who’s committed to making ethical choices I still found plenty to learn about and inspire me. Although I love writing fiction, I often find it difficult to put ideas across clearly in articles or blog posts, preferring to do it in the form of stories. I found your style really clear and direct, and also from the heart – the kind of writing that truly earns the description ‘deceptively simple’. Did you find it a challenge to change writing style from fiction to non-fiction?
LN: It was an interesting challenge, as I’m far more used to writing fiction and - just as you say - generally find that easier. I think the main difference was that I could treat this as a job, whereas writing fiction isn’t like that; not sure how to describe the feeling other than that it’s like riding a wave of energy that I hope will carry me through to the end. There’s always a lot of anxiety on the way - will I be able to do it? Will I hold everything together? and the urgent feeling that I have to write every day to keep it all alive in my head. Whereas with the non-fiction, I could concentrate on one section at a time and even write bits out of order. There would always be news articles or reports on animal welfare or fast fashion or exotic pets that came along and had to be included, so it felt very fluid. Another thing I’m not used to, and not very good at, is keeping references for the various facts or statistics I quoted. It’s not an academic book with footnotes, but all the same I needed to be able to back up whatever I said.
What was the sparking point for your novel?
AL: Although I’ve been concerned about environmental issues all my life, I realised after publication of my debut, Someone Else’s Conflict, which has a strong anti-war message and touches on issues surrounding immigration, that I wanted to write something that specifically references ecological issues. A local pub in a hamlet by the Severn is frequently affected by flooding and it was seeing pictures of flooding events on the walls that sparked the setting for the fictional village of Foxover, and the family themes and community tensions grew from there.
LN: What will you write next?
AL: I’m at the polishing stage of a novel set 30 years in the future, in an off-grid community on a remote Welsh island, seen through the eyes of a 13-year-old girl. Against a background of climate-related societal breakdown on the mainland, it’s actually about the tensions when family secrets come to light, and the effects of a stranger coming into this self-sufficient community. Although there are links to Riverflow, it’s not strictly a sequel.
How about you – what are you working on?
LN: I love the sound of that! I’ve got two projects on the go - an adult novel and a story for younger children related to my book Lob. But campaigning takes up such a lot of my time now that I’m really not devoting enough headspace to either of them!
AL: I totally relate to that! It seems that, for both of us, publication of our respective novels is an essential part of that campaigning. Keep up the good work!
Alison Layland is a writer, translator, editor and environmental campaigner. She is the author of two novels, Someone Else’s Conflict and Riverflow, both published by Honno Press. Selected as a Waterstone’s Welsh Book of the Month, Riverflow is a psychological thriller about an off-grid couple facing floods, fracking and family secrets. Find out more about Alison at www.alayland.uk .
Linda Newbery is a writer and environmental campaigner, particularly on animal issues and food systems. She has published widely for young readers, with titles including the Costa prizewinning Set in Stone, a YA novel. Her recent non-fiction title This Book is Cruelty Free - Animals and Us was first published by Pavilion, then by Farshore, an imprint of Harper Collins. She is currently working on adult fiction, following her first novel for adults Quarter Past Two on a Wednesday Afternoon, which was a Radio 2 Book Club choice. Find out more at www.lindanewbery.co.uk
Solutions Spotlight
Today we share an extract from the adult sci-fi novel Be the Sea, where Clara Ward talks about sustainable deep sea sailing.
Viola stared at the bin as if gazing upon a dead lover. A feeling of profound loss enveloped her, jarring Wend with the contrast to Viola’s dispassionate speech.
“Electrolysis is generally more expensive than reforming hydrocarbons to generate hydrogen fuel, and part of that is the need for purified water. But research fifteen years ago showed copper layers could repel corrosion to make direct generation from seawater economical. It’s only cost-effective for small batches.”
Viola’s voice hardened even further as she said, “In most developed areas, it’s easier to refill your fuel cell commercially than to produce your own fuel. But on a boat, having the ability to make your own could be the difference between life and death. As a bonus, the byproducts include drinking water. This could be the technology that makes zero emissions long-distance sailing safe and economical.”