*This post includes (in the following order): How the writer inspired me, the interview, writer’s piece, and emulation.
How Tatiana De Rosnay Inspired Me:
Tatiana de Rosnay has really helped me become an intrigued reader. For instance, I used to read books (rarely) but after reading Sarah’s Key -which I strongly recommend to those who haven’t read it- it really ignited the flame of urge for me to read. I want to read more and she got me interested into historical fiction. Which has now become one of my favorite genres. I actually understand why people like reading and she taught me that reading isn’t always mandatory but it can be a passion as well, that just makes you more conscious of your surroundings. Also now i’m starting to read more grade level books and advanced books and i also try to find a connection between the plot of the book to my life. She has been a great inspiration for me.
Interview:
Before we begin, I was hoping you could tell us a little bit about your past and what made you want to become a writer in the first place?
Sure!. I was born in paris and then I moved to Boston. And I later moved to England to obtain my bachelor degree in English literature. Then I returned to Paris I was a press officer, then became a journalist and literary critic for Psychologies Magazine. My passion for reading ignited when I was 11 years old, in 1972 and had just read Anne Frank’s diary, was terribly moved by it, and decided to start my own diary. Then I read The Young Visiters by Daisy Ashford, who had published her first book at nine years old. I found it most inspiring, so I wrote a 80-paged novel in english for my mother’s birthday on a school note book. It was called “A girl named Carrie,” the story of a poor little rich girl in 19th Century London. My mother was thankfully very enthusiastic. And so I decided to pursue the experience, and every year, I wrote a novel for my family and kept writing my diary. But I didn’t seek publication until my late twenties in 1992.
Can you describe your writing process for us?
I take notes when I am preparing a novel and while I am writing it. I write early in the morning and late at night. My first readers are my husband, Nicolas, and my close friends Laure, Catherine, Chantal and Julia, who have more or less read everything I’ve written, even the unpublished stuff ! It takes me a year or two to write a novel.
One of your more successful books, Sarah’s Key, is about the holocaust and some of the events of World War 2, what makes your book different than other books about the holocaust?
Maybe the fact that there are two voices in the book, a voice from the past and a voice from the present is what makes it different and unique.
How did your experiences growing up shape Sarah’s Key into the story it is?
My father was a French scientist, of Russian descent and my mother is British and she was the daughter of a former secretary general of the United Nations, Gladwyn Jebb I was born in Paris, and raised in the Boston where my father taught at MIT in Boston as a scientist. I then went to high school in Paris, and then on to college in England. I now live in Paris with my husband and children. But like most French school children of my generation, I was not taught about this event at school, during the 70’s. I heard about it for the first time through President Chirac’s speech in 1995. He was the first French president to publicly acknowledge the role of the French police during the Vel d’Hiv round-up.I was appalled by what I discovered concerning the roundup, especially about what happened to those 4,000 Jewish children, and I knew I had to write about it. But I also knew it could not be a historical novel it had to have a more contemporary feel to it. And that’s how I imagined Julia’s story taking place today, linked to Sarah’s, back in the 40’s. Since I wanted a women of today to discovering what happened in the past and how these trauma still have an impact on people today. And that was the connection between me and the character of Julia.
What are your thoughts on the responses you have been getting from the reader of Sarah’s Key?
The responses I have got from people all over the world, through emails and letters, even photographs from the survivors of the Vel d’Hiv round-up are very special to me. Infact, i got to meet the survivors of the round-up and these moments were so emotional and special I would never forget their loving support. I am also impressed how this book has had an impact on many teenagers. So I am very happy and thankful for my reader’s love and support.
Your book Sarah’s Key has been turned into a movie. What do you think about the movie?
I liked the movie very much, and I thought it was very faithful to my book. And I want to tell my readers who are afraid that the movie won’t be as good as the book because you will absolutely love the movie since i thought it was very faithful to my book. And did a wonderful job.
Who are your favourite authors?
Virginia Woolf, Henry James, Emile Zola, Oscar Wilde, Edgar Allen Poe. And Paul Auster, Joanna Trollope, Anita Shreeve, Penelope Lively, A.S Byatt, JM Coetzee, Maggie O’Farrell, Tracy Chevalier, Joyce Carol Oates, and Sarah Waters.
What advice do you have for the writers in the audience?
Well, when it comes to writing, it’s really everyone for themselves. Because your writing is your own. No one else can necessarily tell you what to do with it. It’s important to recognize your own voice, and how it is unique from others. It’s also important to gain more knowledge, not just of past events, but from everything going on around you. The best writing comes from experiences or attachments to experiences.
Emulation Piece:
Sarah’s Key:
The pounding took up again, louder. It echoed to the marrow of her bones. Her younger brother, asleep in the next bed, stirred. “Police! Open up! Open up!” What time was it? She peered through the curtains. It was still dark outside.
She was afraid. She remembered the recent, hushed conversations she had overheard, late at night, when her parents thought she was asleep. She had crept up to the living room door and she had listened and watched from a little crack through the panel. Her father’s nervous voice. Her mother’s anxious face. They spoke their native tongue, which the girl understood, although she was not as fluent as them. Her father had whispered that times ahead would be difficult. That they would have to be brave and very careful. He pronounced strange, unknown words: “camps,” “roundup, a big roundup,” “early morning arrests,” and the girl wondered what all of it meant. Her father had murmured that only the men were in danger, not the women, not the children, and that he would hide in the cellar every night.
He had explained to the girl in the morning that it would be safer if he slept downstairs, for a little while. Till “things got safe.” What “things,” exactly? thought the girl. What was “safe”? When would things be “safe” again? She wanted to find out what he had meant by “camp” and “roundup,” but she worried about admitting she had eavesdropped on her parents, several times. So she had not dared ask him.
A Secret Kept:
“She was driving, right?”
I nod, try to tidy up my damp nostrils with the back of my hand.
“We know she wasn’t drinking. We checked that. Can you tell me what happened?”
I manage to repeat what I told the police and the ambulance people earlier on. That my sister wanted to drive the rest of the way home. That she was a reliable driver. That I had never been nervous with her at the wheel.
“Did she black out?” asks the doctor. The name on her badge reads: DR. BÉNÉDICTE BESSON.
“No, she didn’t.”
And then it comes back to me. Something I had not told the ambulance people, because I only remember it just now.
I look down at the doctor’s small, tanned face. My own face is still twitching with the crying. I catch my breath.
“My sister was in the middle of telling me something. . . . She turned to me. And then it happened. The car drove off the highway. It happened so fast.”
The doctor urges me on.
“What was she telling you?”
Mélanie’s eyes. Her hands clasping the wheel. Antoine, there’s something I need to say. I’ve kept it back all day. Last night, at the hotel, I remembered something. Something about . . . Her eyes, troubled, worried. And then the car driving off the road.
Personal Emulation:
*Emulated from the line “What was safe?” –Sarah’s Key.
Safe
What was safe?
There was nothing safe about this place.
I was being discriminated and shamed become of my faith.
Now do you still think this place is still safe?
They mock us, laugh at us, snarl at us
spit at us, scream at us, abuse us!
I haven’t seem maman and papa for 2…3…wait no 4 months.
I haven’t seen my baby sister in god knows how long!
They said they would keep me “safe”
when they separated me from my family.
They said they would keep me “safe”
when they threw me in this place that felt no different than a cage.
They said they would keep me “safe”
after they tattooed these numbers on my arm-
I was in pain.
Why didn’t they understand
I DIDN’T FEEL SAFE!
I can’t sleep.
I can’t eat.
I can barely breathe.
So please someone I’m begging you take me someplace
safe.
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