Negative Capability: A Diary of Surviving Hardcover – 28 May 2020

Our increasingly commercial-minded society has made life difficult for novelists. Where in the past a Booker Prize short-listing (as Roberts got for 'Daughters of the House' in the 1990s) and being signed up by leading publishers (Virago and, more recently, Bloomsbury) would have set a writer up for life (providing they kept producing and got reasonable reviews) things are now much more precarious. Writers struggle to make a living - unless they manage that elusive success, the bestseller - and are vulnerable to the whims of marketing and liable to get dropped by publishers or agents if they don't look profitable.This was the situation in which Michele Roberts found herself when her most recent novel, 'The Walworth Beauty' (which did, in fact, eventually get published by Bloomsbury, something I'm not sure she mentions) was rejected by her publisher. With no advance forthcoming, few other earnings (Roberts's time teaching at the University of East Anglia can only have given her a small pension) and an agent threatening to drop her, Roberts was in an anxious situation. And there were other problems too - a relationship break-up left her feeling that she was likely to spend the rest of her life (she is in her sixties) single, and the rejection left her questioning her whole identity as a writer, which had defined her for thirty and more years. 'Negative Capability' is an account of her life from the novel's initial rejection to its final acceptance, as she fights to overcome depression, and finds solace in books, friends and travels - from her basement flat in Walworth to her little house in the Mayenne in France, to Amsterdam, to a Bonnard exhibition, to the French coast for a holiday with her great friend Sarah LeFanu, to a writer's residential course in Ireland and finally back home, calmer and prepared to tackle the next phase in her life.Roberts has two invaluable assets as a writer: her immense love of life (books, food, friendship, wine, art, music) and her beautiful descriptive writing, which can make even a trip to the supermarket seem magical. She demonstrates both these skills stunningly in this book and much still lingers in the mind weeks after finishing: Roberts's descriptions of the market in the town near her house in the Mayenne, her delight in a good meal before visiting the Bonnard exhibition, the solace music provides her when she's feeling very down, her excitement in discovering some new books by women in translation in the LRB Bookshop... and lots more. She also writes with great affection about friends and family and it was good to meet again some of the people she described in 'Paper Houses' (Sarah LeFanu and her husband Chris, Roberts's family, her ex-husband Jim) and to meet some new ones (Nell Dunn, Carmen Callil, Roberts's neighbours in Walworth and some of her ex-lovers, most of whom she writes of tenderly, though her most recent break-up is clearly still painful). While this is a slow-moving book (it's essentially a series of observations of Roberts's life over a year) that in a way is part of its charm - you can luxuriate in the wonderful descriptions and rich colours in the text (like an Impressionist painting) without feeling hurried, or that you need to rush on to know what happens next.I also much appreciated Roberts's honesty about her life and feelings throughout the book. She manages to write about her literary disappointments without bitterness but without any of that awful false-positive 'spin' that you get in books so regularly now (I'm afraid I'm thinking here of Elizabeth Day's 'How to Fail' among others). I'm relieved to read about another woman who greatly enjoys wine and who sometimes uses it to ease anxiety! And Roberts's unease about the world of social media and smartphones was a great comfort - as someone who still, like Roberts, owns a Nokia, it was great to read about an author who doesn't feel they have to be on Twitter or constantly scanning their smartphone!My only real frustration with the book was that the slightly dreamy stream-of-consciousness style meant that I never felt I knew quite enough about Roberts's life. I'd have liked to know a bit more about her relationships with her siblings (and how the death of two of them had affected her) and her mother, why she and her husband Jim separated, about her writing career overall and the subjects she'd chosen and about her post-Jim relationships and how she managed to buy her London flat - and, from a purely nosy point of view, how possible it is to live as a writer if, like Roberts, your books sell moderately well but are never bestsellers. It would also have been nice to know a bit more about writers who inspired Roberts (largely because when she does write on this subject she's so good!) The sex scenes meanwhile were a little startling at times, though I did enjoy the account of Roberts's affair with the farmer in the Mayenne!I must confess also to finding a few of Roberts's opinions slightly reductive. She tends to dwell overmuch on all the negative sides of Catholicism and skim over the positives, and it seems sad she is still unable, forty years on to make peace with her faith (this seems to be a reaction among once-devout and now lapsed Catholics that's fairly common; I've come across other lapsed Catholic writers, including men, who feel the need to repeatedly note that they've lost their faith). I also feel that some of the more psychoanalytic writing can be a little reductive - it doesn't always help to link back misery to childhood quite so much, or to see oneself as a neglected child or unhappy baby still. And I have to confess to growling with irritation when Roberts pronounced Catherine Clement's analysis of 19th-century opera and its victimization of women marvellous - actually, if one studies opera plots in detail (and music) a lot of what Clement says is incorrect - and the book is incoherent and gets some facts wrong to boot.But any small reservations I have about the book pale into insignificance beside the many, many positive things about it: the beautiful descriptions of places, food (I want some of Roberts's recipes), books, art, music and people, the affection Roberts feels for others, the courage she shows, the sense of the richness of life, the terrific storytelling about her friends and neighbours, the reminder of how much little things can bring joy, and, perhaps most of all, the concept of the book's title, taken from Keats. 'Negative Capability' means being able to live with uncertainties, and accepting that there are things we can't control - but trying to live as full a life as possible nevertheless. At a very uncertain time for all of us, 'Negative Capability' is an invaluable asset - and one that may help us, as it did Roberts, to live well.A beautiful, stunningly-written memoir that made me wish I knew the author personally! And I hope very much that Roberts keeps writing fiction too - I'm going back to her novels next.

I've loved Roberts' work ever since a friend pushed 'Impossible Saints' on me, and as a writer I was curious to see her take on rejection (which is an inevitable part of creativity). I romped through this book in a day, savouring Roberts' descriptions of her home in France, playing petanque with friends, visiting a Bonnard exhibition. It's a heartfelt look at the emotional toll of mid-career failure and the resilience needed to carry on, but the pain of depression is countered with everyday joys: friendship, travel, cooking, sex, gardens. The central message - learning to live with uncertainty and how to ride the peaks and troughs of creative life - is an important one, particularly in the precarious days of a pandemic.

I bought this following a review in the Guardian. It sets out her journey from having a novel declined by an agent (entertainingly if not caustically described) to its eventual acceptance, and will appeal to those wanting an insight as to how an established author can do easily find herself rejected. And what that does to a writer.It’s insightful into the fragility of privilege, too. The author mocks (a little) her own status and self-obsession, and is full of little fascinating tidbits.

It’s a while since I’d read a novel by Roberts so was intrigued to read this memoir about her struggle to publish a novel. This absorbing memoir/year in the life is much more than a book about writing. We follow Michelle between her modest homes in London and France and through her friendships and reflections on love, romance, travel and ageing. She is delightful company, wise and calm, generous and honest. It felt great to read such a life-affirming book by an older woman who is still living really well and making art - very inspiring and in tone unlike anything that I’d read before. And she got to publish her novel - hurray!

Perfect lockdown reading. A beautifully written diary which celebrates the small pleasures in life.