Outsider art: Sofie Laguna on ‘Infinite Splendours’
Infinite Splendours (A&U, November), Sofie Laguna’s fourth novel for adults, charts the life of eccentric, artistic outsider Lawrence Loman. Conveyed through poetic prose that ‘creates a tangible sense of beauty, compassion and hope’, Laguna’s novel is ‘a moving book about a victim’s struggle to live with and understand their own trauma’ writes reviewer Adam Ford. He spoke with the author.
Your description of the landscape and historical era that forms the setting of Infinite Splendors is very evocative. How do you go about creating a convincing portrayal of the worlds your characters inhabit?
I never begin to write with the thought that I have to do anything convincingly—that sounds too hard. My work is to inhabit the world of my character—and see it through his eyes. That is a much easier job, I think. And more enjoyable. Because there is always an element of play. The process is unpredictable. Like being in the rehearsal studio ready to discover a new character. One who wants to be known. Heard. It’s the actor in me, who writes. I don’t try and convince, I learn who my character is, and the story that will inevitably unfold.
Lawrence Loman, the protagonist in Infinite Splendours, feels passionate about the landscape—the mountain behind his home, the skies overhead, the forest of stringy barks—and I write from his point of view. He appreciates beautiful words, beautiful scenery. My task is to find his voice and remain true to it. Then, when I visit the Grampians, when I climb the mountain, when I see the sun set, when I smell the scent of eucalyptus on the mountain trail, I do so with Lawrence whispering in my ear. I become a filter for him. It is an intense writing experience. And quite emotional too.
Your previous novels for adults have also featured characters that don’t—perhaps even can’t—really fit in with the worlds they live in. What is it that interests you about characters that are out of step in this way?
I suspect I am exploring what is out of step within us all—and I am using these characters to do so. We are all out of step, aren’t we? Because we are born, and we die, alone. How do we know who we are or where we belong? It is gratifying to exaggerate this sense of alienation in my characters; they provide the means to explore. To visit the worst of places, and the best. I do what comes naturally when it comes to the choices I make on the page. Perhaps it is my shadow, wanting to be known. It takes energy to ask why, so I don’t ask.
When an idea comes to you for a story, what is your process for determining whether it’s best told as a novel or a children’s book?
The idea will make it very clear from the first second it arrives. If my character has struggles that are only suitable for adults, then, that’s who the book is for. There is nothing very tricky about it.
What do you see as the main similarities and differences between children and adults as readers?
Children need to be protected. The characters in my books for adults can suffer more, manage more, experience more. They can be hurt in ways that are not suitable for children to learn about. Not yet. But that is the only difference. Children are human beings who have lived fewer years. That’s the only difference. They are people! They need characters to care about, compelling plot lines, they need rhythm, voice, structure. All the same things. The principles are the same. Only the content differs. Because children are vulnerable. Children need our guidance.
You are a very prolific author. I’m curious to know what happens when you finish working on a novel. Do you go straight to the next project, or is there a period of rest and musing before you commit to the next work?
There really isn’t a rest period. Writing for me isn’t something that I need to recover from, or wait for, or give space to. It’s just a natural part of being human. Writing is the only thing that makes sense of me, actually. I would make no sense otherwise. And the world gives me a lot to think about. I worry a lot. And fear the worst. It’s better if my struggle can find a place on the page.
What was the last book you read and loved?
The last book I read and loved was How We Fight For Our Lives by Saeed Jones (S&S), a memoir about growing up black and queer in America. Jones is an award-winning poet and his prose is beautiful, honest and deeply moving.
Image credit: Brigid Arnott
Category: Features
