Erika Avallone, Bwog Staff Writer, attended the final event of this fall’s Writers at Barnard. Led by Creative Writing Director Jhumpa Lahiri, alumna and author Idra Novey gave a reading of her newest book, “Take What You Need,” and engaged in inquisitive conversation. 

On Thursday evening, Barnard College’s Creative Writing Department held its final event for the fall semester “Writers at Barnard” series. Hosted by Director of the Creative Writing Department, literary translator, and award-winning author Jhumpa Lahiri, the event featured author Idra Novey and her newest book, “Take What You Need.” Lahiri and Novey are not only both Barnard College graduates (Lahiri ‘89 and Novey ‘00), but also colleagues at Princeton University. Lahiri and Novey’s admiration for each other’s craft, and years of friendship, set the tone for an intellectually rich and emotionally conversant night.

Jhumpa Lahiri and Idra Novey via Erika Avallone

After Lahiri’s introduction, Novey took to the podium to read two chapters from “Take What You Need,” the first from the narration of the younger character and the second from the elder. In an effort to not spoil the plot, I will divulge only adequate characterization and information; “Take What You Need” traces the paths of a daughter, Leah and estranged stepmother, Jeanne, and is set in the Allegheny Mountains of Appalachia. Upon Jeanne’s death, Leah must leave her adult urban lifestyle, and return to the rural childhood that she was eager to forget. She returns to find Jeanne’s home as a treasure chest of welded sculptures (which Jeanne created), and thus begins the unfolding of their relationship. Alternating between Leah and Jean’s narrations, the novel touches upon ideas of redemption, processes of grief, complex yet recognizable relationships, and difficulties of trust. When switching from Leah’s chapter to Jean’s, Novey explained her syntaxical choices as indicative of each character’s unique respective voices. Leah’s reflection felt like a baby deer learning to walk again, as she revisited her hometown, and caught between who she was then and who she is now; Jean’s perspective was very informal, almost how you would expect an eccentric older neighbor to be, always with an opinion and not afraid to say it. Without spoiling the plot, Novey’s reading gave an engaging glimpse at the novel’s dual perspectives, and showcased her detailed and intuitive style. 

After a personalized reading from the book, Novey took center-stage to answer Lahiri’s guided questions about the author’s creative process, and how this novel was specifically influenced by her education at Barnard. She recalled the absence of translational literature classes during her college experience, and how that lack led her to the comparative literature department. She was fervent in the idea that the author, which will connect to your interests and ambitions, is unknown throughout the process; Novey recalls immersing herself in various works which were not obviously connective to her own background, until exploring literature through translation. She spoke in-depth about the feeling of disorientation, and how that specific lens can be quite productive for an artist, and especially for a translator. By working through a translation, the translator is pushed through a whirlwind of language and meaning, sparking an almost automatic creative response and process. Novey said that she consistently experienced disorientation during her childhood, and even at Barnard, because she had not met anyone who had grown up in an environment (familial, physical, cultural) to her own. Speaking with an urgency to tell her story, Novey remembered being “hungry” for creative and translative experiences, yet did not have satisfactory opportunities, until participating in Barnard’s translative ventures and Comparative Literature Department. She expressed extreme gratitude to the language and writing opportunities that were given at Barnard, which she characterized as truly changing the trajectory of her life.

As the conversation carried on, I was surprised to learn that Novey (and Lahiri) had never actually taken creative writing courses at Barnard. Despite an official and structured education of creative writing, Novey said that translations taught her how to make her own voice; when she translated a piece, she had to specifically choose which content to include and which to subtract, in order to implicitly recreate a mysterious voice, and now classifies this approach as the best apprenticeship to her own writing. 

A particularly unique quality of “Take What You Need” is its momentous status as Novey’s first novel about her background, despite being her eleventh published book. Novey expresses that her disorientation was so prevalent concerning childhood, making a connection to her roots difficult. Originally, she set out to interview several people from her hometown for a nonfiction work, but found these encounters were not as consistently interesting as she had hoped. After several of these similarly disengaging interviews, she met a woman who created collages on cigar boxes, a nontraditional artistic pursuit, and found that unique perspective for which she was searching. Novey says that this relationship brought insight that novelties and peculiarities are often hidden under the surface, a realization which manifested in the details of her novel. Novey’s research and process for her novel was truly an exploration of nuance and novelty, from meandering flea markets to welding lessons to penning a new word (she created the word “manglement” to describe her character Jean’s sculptures). 

Watching Novey speak on her devotion to the creative process, and how her translative experiences led her to this body of work, I was reminded of why I am so intrigued by languages and writing. Literature and language is both a catalyst for connection and a portrayal of differences, providing a space for cultural intersection and individual voices. As an English major with a Creative Writing concentration, who also has experience in translation studies, I found this panel to be not only an intellectual gift to hear, but also advice to trust instinctual creativity. I left this event in awe of linguistic dynamics, and was inspired to engage deeper with my surroundings. A versatile writer and devoted creator, Idra Novey, led in conversation by Jhumpa Lahiri, brought the fall semester’s Writers at Barnard to a spectacular end. 

Images via author