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Eimear McBride: a genius easily missed Eimear McBride: a genius easily missed
(35 minutes later)
Just over an hour before I started writing this article, I was in the Royal Festival Hall in London. I was drinking champagne watching Eimear McBride win the Baileys women's prize for fiction for A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing. And I wasn't dreaming.Just over an hour before I started writing this article, I was in the Royal Festival Hall in London. I was drinking champagne watching Eimear McBride win the Baileys women's prize for fiction for A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing. And I wasn't dreaming.
Just over a year ago, I was in the Mulberry Tree, a pub around the corner from my house in Norwich (and not that far from Eimear's). I was discussing the final edits with Eimear, together with Eloise Millar and Henry Layte, my co-directors of Galley Beggar Press. At some point in that meeting – as I remember it now, anyway – I said: "You're going to win one whole shit load of prizes." And Eimear looked at me as if I was off in a waking dream.Just over a year ago, I was in the Mulberry Tree, a pub around the corner from my house in Norwich (and not that far from Eimear's). I was discussing the final edits with Eimear, together with Eloise Millar and Henry Layte, my co-directors of Galley Beggar Press. At some point in that meeting – as I remember it now, anyway – I said: "You're going to win one whole shit load of prizes." And Eimear looked at me as if I was off in a waking dream.
Every so often, I have actual dreams. Nightmares and daymares. Moments that give me cold sweats. Moments in which I think what if I had said "no"? What if we had failed to publish Girl?Every so often, I have actual dreams. Nightmares and daymares. Moments that give me cold sweats. Moments in which I think what if I had said "no"? What if we had failed to publish Girl?
This little book has started to develop its own mythology, now that it has won the Goldsmiths prize, the Kerry Group prize for fiction, the Baileys prize, now that Anne Enright has described it as a work of genius. The story is that Eimear wrote it nine years ago and that just about every publisher in the land turned it down, until plucky little Galley Beggar Press took it on. This legend is – to Eimear's and Galley Beggar's abundant good fortune – a true one.This little book has started to develop its own mythology, now that it has won the Goldsmiths prize, the Kerry Group prize for fiction, the Baileys prize, now that Anne Enright has described it as a work of genius. The story is that Eimear wrote it nine years ago and that just about every publisher in the land turned it down, until plucky little Galley Beggar Press took it on. This legend is – to Eimear's and Galley Beggar's abundant good fortune – a true one.
But how easy would it have passed on the book like all those other publishers? How likely is it that I could have been watching a different small press take the plaudits on the Southbank, and thinking "damn"?But how easy would it have passed on the book like all those other publishers? How likely is it that I could have been watching a different small press take the plaudits on the Southbank, and thinking "damn"?
The thing that most troubles me as I lap up praise for perspicacity and good sense is that it wasn't really my decision. The book came to our attention because Eimear's husband William Galinsky brought it into Henry's bookshop and persuaded him to read it. Henry luckily realised it was something special and passed it on to Elly and I. Elly read it first, and it was at this stage, really, that the decision was made, since Elly, like Henry, had no doubt whatsoever that this was something we needed to bring into the world.The thing that most troubles me as I lap up praise for perspicacity and good sense is that it wasn't really my decision. The book came to our attention because Eimear's husband William Galinsky brought it into Henry's bookshop and persuaded him to read it. Henry luckily realised it was something special and passed it on to Elly and I. Elly read it first, and it was at this stage, really, that the decision was made, since Elly, like Henry, had no doubt whatsoever that this was something we needed to bring into the world.
The Galley Beggar system was that all three directors had to agree to publish something before we went ahead – but by the time both Eloise and Henry had read it I could sense that saying "no" would be an outrage. Eloise had told me that it may well have been one of the best books she had ever read. Possibly among the best ever written. She said it in such a way that I knew she wasn't kidding.The Galley Beggar system was that all three directors had to agree to publish something before we went ahead – but by the time both Eloise and Henry had read it I could sense that saying "no" would be an outrage. Eloise had told me that it may well have been one of the best books she had ever read. Possibly among the best ever written. She said it in such a way that I knew she wasn't kidding.
So I didn't have to sweat over the decision. And that's the thing that haunts me. Would I too have realised? I hope so. I fell in love with the novel very quickly, as I recall. And I'm pretty sure that's right. But when I really test my memory, and when I'm most honest with myself, I also know that my very first reaction to looking at the manuscript of A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing was: "What the fuck?"So I didn't have to sweat over the decision. And that's the thing that haunts me. Would I too have realised? I hope so. I fell in love with the novel very quickly, as I recall. And I'm pretty sure that's right. But when I really test my memory, and when I'm most honest with myself, I also know that my very first reaction to looking at the manuscript of A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing was: "What the fuck?"
The opening page, in the draft that I was given, was bursting with talent. I'd never read anything quite like it. But it was also uniquely difficult. And this was a problem. When scholars are pouring over her early drafts in decades to come, they may understand why I stumbled. For now the thing to note is that I was luckier than many of the people who went before me and who had turned the book down. I had two people pulling me on, and making sure I got in deep enough to understand how remarkable this book was. The opening page, in the draft that I was given, was bursting with talent. I'd never read anything quite like it. But it was also uniquely difficult. And this was a problem. When scholars are poring over her early drafts in decades to come, they may understand why I stumbled. For now the thing to note is that I was luckier than many of the people who went before me and who had turned the book down. I had two people pulling me on, and making sure I got in deep enough to understand how remarkable this book was.
Following the success of Girl, as dozens of manuscripts land in the Galley Beggar email each week, all clamouring for attention, I see still more clearly how all those editors might have failed to realise what they had in their hands. How easy it might have been to feel overwhelmed, or confused, or just too hurried to pay attention and to move onto the next thing instead of opening up to this dark magic.Following the success of Girl, as dozens of manuscripts land in the Galley Beggar email each week, all clamouring for attention, I see still more clearly how all those editors might have failed to realise what they had in their hands. How easy it might have been to feel overwhelmed, or confused, or just too hurried to pay attention and to move onto the next thing instead of opening up to this dark magic.
My second reaction to the book, which came about 20 pages in, was: "Ouch." I knew I was reading something extraordinary. But I could also sense that reading it was going to be emotionally and physically draining: "That smell of stink cigs smell of stink shit and cloy. Stink I want. Dirt clothes and mats and hair that. Hands are. Greasy with oil or." This is language as assault. The rhythm of a pounding heart. As Anne Enright said when she reviewed the book here: "You can almost hear the blows in the rhythm of the words." There was a part of me that wanted to cover my eyes, crouch down and hide from this book.My second reaction to the book, which came about 20 pages in, was: "Ouch." I knew I was reading something extraordinary. But I could also sense that reading it was going to be emotionally and physically draining: "That smell of stink cigs smell of stink shit and cloy. Stink I want. Dirt clothes and mats and hair that. Hands are. Greasy with oil or." This is language as assault. The rhythm of a pounding heart. As Anne Enright said when she reviewed the book here: "You can almost hear the blows in the rhythm of the words." There was a part of me that wanted to cover my eyes, crouch down and hide from this book.
But at Galley Beggar Press we believed that challenging doesn't necessarily mean inaccessible, that difficult doesn't mean impossible to sell. We hoped that there were enough good readers to make publishing a good book worthwhile. And we knew that this was more than a good book. How could we not print it?But at Galley Beggar Press we believed that challenging doesn't necessarily mean inaccessible, that difficult doesn't mean impossible to sell. We hoped that there were enough good readers to make publishing a good book worthwhile. And we knew that this was more than a good book. How could we not print it?
In those early days, my nightmares, daymares and cold sweats related more to the large amounts of my own (not to mention my dad's) limited funds I'd sunk into printing this book. But in the early summer, Eimear and I went to Ireland to launch the book in Castlebar, the town where she grew up.In those early days, my nightmares, daymares and cold sweats related more to the large amounts of my own (not to mention my dad's) limited funds I'd sunk into printing this book. But in the early summer, Eimear and I went to Ireland to launch the book in Castlebar, the town where she grew up.
She was greeted like a conquering hero. A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing is fiction. But part of the reason it works so well is that it has solid grounding in a very real time and place: which is to say Castlebar around about 20 years ago. Going there was like walking into the pages of the book – especially when I went out to the local lake. Anyone who has read the book must regard that stretch of dark water, like me, as a place of near religious significance. A place to which I'm sure, in the not too distant future, literary tourists will flock. But last year, it was just the locals. They had crammed into the local bookshop to see how well someone who had grown up amongst them had done. They had already heard whispers of the book's brilliance and were out in force to roar their approval. It was – to put such an emotional event as simply as possible – wonderful.She was greeted like a conquering hero. A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing is fiction. But part of the reason it works so well is that it has solid grounding in a very real time and place: which is to say Castlebar around about 20 years ago. Going there was like walking into the pages of the book – especially when I went out to the local lake. Anyone who has read the book must regard that stretch of dark water, like me, as a place of near religious significance. A place to which I'm sure, in the not too distant future, literary tourists will flock. But last year, it was just the locals. They had crammed into the local bookshop to see how well someone who had grown up amongst them had done. They had already heard whispers of the book's brilliance and were out in force to roar their approval. It was – to put such an emotional event as simply as possible – wonderful.
I know now that what we actually left behind was a legend. Eimear McBride's first book. A work of genius. A book, that thankfully, I was able to play a small part in promoting. And the legend isn't finished yet, not least because the book is still to be released in America. Because we still await the reviews in the New York Times, the New Yorker and the New York Review of Books. Because that fact that A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing has just won the Baileys prize is only the beginning of what will hopefully be a long march to immortality.I know now that what we actually left behind was a legend. Eimear McBride's first book. A work of genius. A book, that thankfully, I was able to play a small part in promoting. And the legend isn't finished yet, not least because the book is still to be released in America. Because we still await the reviews in the New York Times, the New Yorker and the New York Review of Books. Because that fact that A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing has just won the Baileys prize is only the beginning of what will hopefully be a long march to immortality.