BRITISH literary hero Monica Ali introduced herself with the brilliant Booker Prize shortlisted debut novel Brick Lane, which was later turned into a movie.
Since then, the acclaimed author has delivered diverse books, which have been translated into 26 languages and turned her into an important storyteller with a global reputation for great writing.
She makes a welcome return with her first novel in just over a decade with Love Marriage, which has already received glowing reviews and been described as a huge, bounteous story, lit from end to end with human variety and storytelling brilliance. The gripping story of two cultures, assumptions and love, revolves around a woman engaged to a fellow doctor, who begins to ask important questions about her relationship in the lead-up to the wedding day and what love marriage actually means.
Eastern Eye caught up with the much-loved writer to discuss her literary journey, new book, and key advice for aspiring authors.
How do you look back on your amazing journey as a writer?
If you’d told me when I was a child it was possible that one day I would be a published author I’d have thought you were mad. I grew up poor and we didn’t have money to buy books. I borrowed books from the library and was always escaping into novels. But I didn’t think people like me could write them and get them published. So, I look back with a sense of awe and a little pride.
You were immediately thrust into the spotlight with your debut Brick Lane; how do you reflect on that now?
I wish I’d been able to enjoy it more. My children were very young at the time and though I felt very lucky that the book was published in so many countries, it often took me away from them. That was tough. I was thrilled, of course, that the book found its way to so many readers, but at the same time I was a little overwhelmed.
Did that put pressure on your subsequent writing?
Strangely enough, I don’t think it did. I’ve never thought about ‘building a readership’. I had no desire to capitalise on success. I just followed my own path, for better or worse.
You have been unpredictable with your subject choices since then. What draws you to a particular story?
For me, it’s always about the characters first and foremost. I can’t start writing until I feel I know them well and – since I’m going to be spending an awful lot of time with them, have developed a certain fondness for them all.
Her new book
What is it that inspired your new book Love Marriage?
So many things! It is hard to settle on just one, but I’ll say – my love for Jane Austen, who wrote so much about engagements and marriage.
Tell us about the story?
Yasmin Ghorami and Joe Sangster, both junior doctors, are engaged. He’s handsome, sensitive, and kind (and rich too), but cheats on her. Yasmin shocks herself (she’s always been so good) by embarking on revenge sex with a colleague. She feels awful – at least Joe confessed, but she can’t bring herself to tell him what she’s done. What she doesn’t know is that Joe is a sex addict. He’s in therapy to try to understand this compulsion that fills him with self-loathing. Then there’s all the complications of their two very different families coming together.
Who are you hoping connects with the book?
Anyone who’s ever been in a relationship or who has any experience of being part of a family that isn’t entirely perfect.
What is the key message you want to convey?
What I want most is for people to enjoy the book, to find it humorous and entertaining and, above all, a good old-fashioned propulsive read.
Your stories and characters are always relatable. Is that a conscious decision and do you base them on real people?
I’m very interested in what makes people tick, why we are the way we are, with other people and with ourselves as well. Inevitably, we all make assumptions about other people, and what I like doing is questioning those assumptions, and stripping away the layers. If that makes the characters relatable, then that’s great.
Do you believe in a love marriage?
Well, it’s complicated. As you’ll see if you read the book.
Do you feel the pressure of being an acclaimed author?
Being any kind of author is kind of tough. You spend years locked away in silence at your desk and then emerge blinking into the daylight, feeling very exposed and having bared your soul to the world.
Which writers do you admire?
So many, but some of my favourites are Austen, (Leo) Tolstoy, RK Narayan, Graham Greene, and VS Naipaul.
How do you feel before a book of yours is published?
It varies, but with this one, after a ten-year hiatus, I’m nervous and also excited.
What advice would you give an aspiring author?
Be curious about everything. Curiosity is the greatest asset you can have. And read a lot! Writing courses are optional, but reading is essential.
What can we expect next from you?
I’m adapting Love Marriage for television with New Pictures and absolutely loving
the process.
Why do you love being a writer?
Because I can lose myself in my writing and am insatiably curious about the world and people in it. Also, because sometimes the satisfaction of the right words in the right order in a single sentence is enough.
www.monicaali.co
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5