I have a particular interest in literary fictional
biography as I’m writing a novel inspired by the late Victorian poet Mary
Elizabeth Coleridge, so I’ve been looking forward to reading Nuala O’Connor’s Miss Emily, based on the life of Emily
Dickinson, or at least a short period in that life. Let me say straight away
that it’s a thoroughly enjoyable read and demonstrates great skill in a
challenging genre.
The novel revolves around the invented story of Emily
Dickinson and a dramatic episode in the life of the family’s new young Irish
maid, Ada Concannon. It’s structured in
alternating chapters told in the first person by each of these characters. I
find that this structure works well for me and draws me forward as I keep
wanting to find out what’s happening from each point of view. As a comparison, Affinity by Sarah Waters uses the same
technique and it kept me up all night reading, while Miss Emily also kept me turning the pages.
The risk with this technique is that readers may prefer
one story to the other and rush through the alternating chapters to get to the
character they prefer, but this isn’t the case with Emily and Ada. The two work
well as a contrast – the extroverted and feisty Ada, far from home for the
first time, and the introverted Emily who has become more and more housebound.
Ada’s story provides the forward movement of the plot, which
starts in Ireland and follows her on the sea journey to America in search of
work with the help of her family the Mahers who are already there. The
Dickinsons did have a maid called Maggie Maher, so the reader is intrigued to
find out how much of the novel is true and which parts are invention. There is
no author’s note to tell us, unlike other novels in this genre, such as Author, Author by David Lodge, based on
the life of Henry James.
Sense of place is key to the novel, with Ireland evoked
as a physical presence at the start and end of the novel – the reader can smell
and feel the cold and mucky Liffey that Ada swims in before work as a maid in
Dublin at the start, and we can also smell and taste Ireland on our lips in the
sea spray as Ada returns to her home at the end. Home is also important to Emily,
with Amherst and her house and garden brought vividly to life in her constant
awareness of minute details.
The two stories are complementary as well as contrasting,
as Ada’s vulnerability to the predatory Patrick Crohan demonstrates women’s
need for protection, so her independence and adventurous spirit come at a cost,
while Emily’s self-protection with her home and family as a shield makes
perfect sense. When Emily tells Ada near the end to live her life to the full,
adding that she wishes she had, I wondered if that was consistent and if it was
a quote from her life.
Relationships provide human interest, with a beautifully
told love developing between Ada and Daniel Byrne who works with Crohan at the
Dickinson household. O’Connor is particularly skilled at depicting all the
stages of love and passion, and she is equally skilled at depicting what
happens when this passion is used to harm others. This is no Mills and Boone
romance: love in the nineteenth century comes with a risk of serious venereal
disease such as gonorrhoea, and the reader is never sure if a young woman on
her own could be attacked sexually and whether it’s a good idea to ‘step out’
with a man.
Some of the themes are especially topical, including the
pressure on servants not to report harassment and sexual abuse. Emily’s brother
Austin is the main person exerting this pressure, again making me wonder which
of these episodes were based on biographical information, and how far an author
can go in inventing significant speech and actions by historical figures.
There’s a biography of Emily Dickinson by Lyndall Gordon
called Lives Like Loaded Guns which
answered some of my queries. The historical Dickinson family maid Maggie Maher
was feisty and she did work with the Dickinson sisters on household duties and
baking. In the novel, Emily develops a friendship with Ada through their mutual
love of baking, and although readers may wonder if servants formed this kind of
bond with employers, this is historically accurate. In fact, the biography
confirms that Maggie Maher not only baked with Emily, but the Dickinson sisters
also took a share of the housework.
The story of Maggie Maher is a fascinating one, but it
isn’t the story of the fictional Ada, apart from her nationality, feistiness,
and friendship with Emily and her sister Lavinia. Unlike Ada, whose stay with
the Dickinsons is fairly short, Maggie Maher spent many years with them and was
one of the main witnesses in a trial against Mabel Todd, who felt she had been
promised land in return for transcribing and editing Emily’s poems. The maid’s
account included details of adultery between Mabel and Emily’s brother Austin,
an intriguing story, but not the one told in O’Connor’s novel.
Instead Miss Emily
tells a fictional tale about Ada, her trip to America, her developing love for
Daniel, and experiences with the violent Crohan which lead to a crime that I
won’t give any more spoilers for. It’s at this point that Emily gets involved
in defending her maid and Austin shows himself to be prejudiced against the
Irish and no defender of women. The Dickinson siblings will become embroiled in
actions to resolve a situation that could ruin all their reputations, each
supporting Ada for different motives.
The mixture of fact and fiction is inevitable in
biographical fiction, but the decision to include significant fictional actions
to the lives of historical characters is one that raises ethical questions.
Should we or should we not do that as writers? I don’t know the answer to that.
In Miss Emily I find that Emily
Dickinson becomes a bit less believable when she leaves the house to take
action to protect Ada in this episode.
I can forgive the lapse into a less credible Emily (and
realise other readers may find the episode more believable than I do) because
most of the book depicts a thoroughly convincing character. It’s a joy to
experience life and writing from inside her head and this is no easy task when
emulating the words of such a talented and unique writer. Emily is brought to
life again for us, not only through the inclusion of some of her poems, but also
in the way she thinks and how she transforms intense perceptions into pared
down lines and stanzas.
Relationships are at the heart of the book, with the
loyalty between Emily and Ada set against the sisterhood and love Emily still
feels for her lifelong friend Susan, who has ‘turned to stone’ since marrying
Austin. Although Susan lives next door, the closeness Emily craves has been
withdrawn and her thoughts return continually to the pain this causes. Emily’s
sexuality is suggested, although same sex relationships are given less
evocative and passionate treatment than the heterosexual ones.
The encounters between Ada and Daniel are as good as any
relationship scenes I have ever read. By contrast, the feelings Emily has are
more ambiguous, which could come across as evasive in an author using first
person narrative. As Susan has distanced herself from Emily on marriage, the
less emotional scenes in Emily’s meetings with her are justifiable, but I
wonder if something is missing or if it’s better to leave her sexuality
questionable. It’s noticeable that Emily’s response to women in general isn’t
as clear as Ada’s response to men, although the Dickinson family is on the
lookout for any comments she makes that reveal same sex attraction. For
example, when she expresses a wish to have a ribbon as blue as Ada’s eyes nothing
is said, but they look at her with suspicion.
Miss Emily is
an accomplished novel in the literary biographical fiction genre and has taken
its place among my all time favourite books, while Nuala O’Connor has joined my
list of favourite writers.


I’ve been involved in poetry since the 1970s and it has never paid. This discussion has gone on throughout the decades, so we aren’t in a situation where poetry is somehow doing worse. In fact I can see poetry is more popular than it has ever been (you can see that by the participation all over the internet and the thriving live events all over the UK and Ireland).
People talk about print runs of 1,000 in the old days, but I have been told publishers used to get funding if they said they needed a print run of 1,000 and they sent out loads of free copies to dispose of them. A friend of mine used to get 5 review copies of each book by some publishers. There were regions that were particularly known for getting this kind of funding and publishers acively moved there to get it. This is why there’s still some doubt over whether funding should be allocated specifically to print runs. It’s quite hard for a poet to know how many free copies have been sent out, although I’m sure some big name poets sold well and would know by the royalty figures how many books were bought.
I also think we’re in a much better situation for poetry sales than the one I remember in the 70s, 80s and 90s, thanks to the internet and the ease of finding and buying poetry collections. I used to have to travel from Canterbury to the Compendium Bookshop in Camden, London, to buy poetry because you just couldn’t find a selection in bookshops. And I’m sure the Compendium was good but didn’t stock all the poets I would like to have found.
The problem isn’t whether or not poetry is popular, or whether or not it’s easy to buy books. The problem is that people enjoy poetry in many ways (my teenage sons loved it at school too, so education isn’t the problem as all their mates enjoyed it and even wrote it), but people don’t want to buy books.
Why don’t they buy poetry books? They only buy a poetry book if it’s so special to them that they want to read it over and over again so they want to keep it on their shelf. They have to buy a novel to read the whole thing, but they can hear whole poems at events and hear and read whole poems on the internet. They don’t have to buy the book. And it would be a mistake not to share our poems online or at events because…. 90% of poetry book sales are at readings and you absolutely have to have a following. What makes some books so special that people want to buy them and keep reading them? That’s one of the things that makes a poetry collection sell and we all know which books we have on our shelves for that reason and what it is that makes them collectable.
It’s great reading all the ideas from various people who have suggested what publishers should be doing to sell more books, and I always look in the hope of seeing something I haven’t tried. But publishers really have tried all of it and much more. I sometimes think many publishers don’t like to depress poets by telling them how much is done behind the scenes.
All of our books are easily available on Amazon and for bookshops to stock. I have book reps going round the UK, Ireland and parts of France continually repping the books to shops. I see bloggers saying that getting books into shops would help and they think publishers don’t try, but it’s really hard getting poetry into shops (managers tell me they can only sell the famous names) and bookshops stocking a book don’t make a definite sale – unless a customer goes in and buy it, the books do all get sent back for a full refund. That’s the standard way retail works in bookselling.
Publishers aren’t stopping now because the situation is worse. There has always been a turnover of publishers, with new ones setting up and some closing down. When I set up Ward Wood, Roddy Lumsden warned me not to, and told me that over the years he had seen so many publishers set up then stop when they got ‘exhausted, bored, or bankrupt’. We each step in and take our turn as part of the collective effort, and it’s the collective effort that’s another of the answers to this problem. I won’t be closing down though – I don’t want to suggest that, but it’s normal that there is a turnover of poetry publishers.
It really is hard work promoting poetry, and it’s like hitting your head on a wall. You can be very experienced at PR (I am) and do a massive amount of work to see a trickle of sales at the end of it. And each sale feels like a halleluia moment.
The amount of work I have had to put into promotion and sorting out the distribution channel has meant I no longer had time to do my paid work – I had to give up £400 per week as a freelance journalist and webcontent writer (I didn't realise this was going to happen and might not have taken the risk if I had known). And poetry publishing work is non-income. So when people suggest all the extra marketing work that could be done, bear in mind that it all takes time, and that time is also something that takes away your income. I could only do it because my father died soon after I started Ward Wood and left me some savings.
Poetry sells in the lower hundreds with a lot of work by the publisher and the poet. Sales and income aren't everything. An excellent book, good promotion, and hopefully some additional successes like award wins and shortlists, all help establish a poet's name. I always tell authors I can try my best with sales and we do sell as well or better than many other similar presses, but one thing I can guarantee is that a good publisher can help an author get noticed and establish a name and good reputation. It isn't all about money, although money is clearly a problem if it's making companies run at a loss and close.
But we do it. We do it because we believe in poetry with a passion. That’s why publishers have always stepped in to keep publishing outlets open and I suppose they always will. I hope ebooks will help poetry in the way I find they help novels and I’m starting to believe that they will. I’ll be experimenting with 5-day free promotions to see if they boost sales after the free period. This has really worked with fiction and it would be a pity if it didn’t work with poetry. It would cut the cost of the print run (although I always also have print books as they’re so important for the way poetry sells at events and for people who want a treasured signed copy to read many times). Ebooks can also have a low cost and still help as the number of sales is higher, and a low cost doesn’t seem to cut into print book sales for some reason, it boosts print book sales too.
So my answers would be:
1. Publishers probably need to be selling something else and not just poetry. Our fiction does help but I wouldn't say it's easy to sell novels. It is a specialisation and we're up against competition from the very big players and their huge promotional budgets with novels. Nonfiction is probably a good idea and is the bestselling form.
2. Supporting ebooks to help poetry publishers who make them available. Even if you hate Amazon, you can really help publishers by buying their ebooks.
3. For print books buy direct from the publisher’s website rather than Amazon. You might be surprised to find publishers have great discounts on price, much better than Amazon. Each sale from our website is worth 19 times as much as a sale from other places due to all the middle men. Think about it.
4. The very simple answer – just buy books. Unfortunately, even the poets and poetry lovers aren’t buying enough books, not by a long shot. If you want publishing outlets to stay open you do have to buy their products.