Welcome to The Spinoff Books Confessional, in which we get to know the reading habits of Aotearoa writers, and guests. This week: the minister of finance, Nicola Willis.
This week’s confessional is slightly different in that books editor Claire Mabey interviewed Willis via phone and took the opportunity to expand on our regular Books Confessional questions.
Why did you study English at university?
Because I had a piece of advice from someone: stop stressing out about what job you want to do. Do what you love and what you’re good at, that brings you joy, and if you work hard at it, you’ll learn, and learning is the point. I loved poetry, I loved novels, I loved theatre, and English was something I’d always been good at – so I thought, “Why not dive deep into this and see where it takes me?”
I think it’s the worst thing when someone says to a 17-year-old, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” They don’t even know what the jobs are. How are you meant to know? I always try and reassure young people by saying – if you give yourself to something and follow the things that you’re good at, opportunities will present themselves. So don’t worry. Just do your best.
What has your English degree offered you in your career?
Reading and being able to analyse texts and think critically are important skills no matter what role you have. I honed those skills at university. On a more profound level, for me, the study of literature was about the study of people in society and history, and having an insight into what makes people tick and what matters to people. There isn’t a big stepping stone between that and thinking about politics – ultimately economies and countries are about people, what they want from life. My background in literature has always kept me grounded in that.
When do you read?
I read at night. I like to read fiction for 20–30 minutes depending on how long my eyes will stay open, to switch my brain into another gear and take me away from the working day.
Have you seen the Ockham New Zealand Book Awards shortlist? And if so, have you read any of those books?
I’m going to confess something. I haven’t looked at the shortlist, but I promise to do so after this interview, and text you if I’ve read any of them.
[Via text: Alas, I haven’t read any of the shortlist but I’ll be adding Emma Neale’s Liar, Liar, Lick, Spit to my pile].
Is there a book you wish you’d written yourself?
I read Intermezzo by Sally Rooney over summer and loved it, partly because even though it’s got male protagonists, it gives a real female perspective on relationships. But also it’s about things I think about a lot: family, sibling relationships, love, what makes people tick, tragedy and how we respond to it. It’s beautifully written and packed with insights – those moments in a book where you think, yes, that’s exactly how it is. Sally Rooney is wonderful at getting to the heart of things. So I read it, and thought, “Gosh, I wish I could write something like that.”
Have you ever been tempted to write a book?
Yes, I have. I will admit, even if it makes me sound self-aggrandising, it’s something I’ve always had an ambition for. Particularly fiction because I have enormous respect for the way fiction can get to the truth of things. I read The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst and loved it. It intertwines politics, people and art in a way that I think is majestic. And the idea of being able to wrap up your experiences and turn that into a novel that enriches people is something that … well, I keep that little light of hope alive that maybe one day I’d be capable of that.
Did you know that the Parliamentary Library doesn’t hold any fiction?
That’s disappointing. I believe that politicians are better when we rise up from simply the history and the policy and the analytics and we think more deeply about what matters to us all. And let’s face it, for most of us, it matters more to us who we love and how our friendships and family are than what specific policies political parties are promoting at any one time.
What book would you be buried with?
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. The main character represents the idea that keeping to your own values and beliefs is important. And that life, to some extent, is suffering. It is the struggle. But there can be profound joy and beauty in the struggle. Life is not about some moment in which you made it, or you caught the big fish, or you were suddenly on top of the world. Life’s actually about the day to day and what you stay true to and how you live. It’s about openness and about faith. And I also love the fact that that character has such huge endurance and resilience. And I’d like to think that in my life, I will have displayed those things also. It’s a beautifully written book: simple, sharp sentences. If I read it with a highlighter in my hand I’d be highlighting every second sentence.
Do you have a favourite poet?
I loved Jenny Bornholdt, who is a Wellington poet. I love her because I discovered her when I was at University and that’s a time in life where you’re heavily influenced. I liked the way she wrote about relationships and love. I’ve come back to her later in life, because a lot of her poems are centred in the domestic and raising kids; the banal of everyday life that is actually quite beautiful. She brings out that beauty. I love this line: “I carry your absence / like stars / on the blue roof”. She has this way of capturing feelings of love and passion. At my wedding I recited the poem Make Sure to my husband.
Do you know the work of Tusiata Avia?
Yes. I do via Bill English.
[The minister was mistaken here and was thinking of the time Bill English recited a line from a poem by Selina Tusitala Marsh. Minister Willis corrected herself via text, later.]
Are you aware of David Seymour’s criticisms of Avia’s work? What do you think of his views?
Well, look. My take is that art is almost always about expression, and for me, in a liberal democracy, artists will naturally be critical of governments and politics and will have ideas that are highly controversial. To me, an artist, a writer, can write about something I profoundly disagree with, but I can still feel challenged and intrigued by it. So I am not really worried about art which I disagree with. My view is: if you don’t like it, don’t read it.
What is the first book you remember reading by yourself?
I remember vividly Fantastic Mr Fox, and then going from that to Danny, the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl. Mr Fox was such a cool character. And there were the apples, and such vivid descriptions. Roald Dahl is a wonderful introduction to reading by yourself. Because once you’ve read one you want the next, and there’s so many more to follow.
Roald Dahl is an author whose work is being retrospectively edited. Do you have an opinion on that?
I disagree with it. The whole point of art is that it captures the style and prejudices of its time. To me it’s wrong to look back and edit that out. That’s what the writer thought and wrote at the time, and we shouldn’t try and sanitise that.
Utopia or dystopia?
Dystopias every time. I mean The Handmaid’s Tale – what an incredible way of warning us all.
A book that haunts you?
A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. It’s an incredible book, but I still can’t understand why I put myself through it, because it’s so brutal. The torment that the main character lives through in that book is so awful that I still have moments where it flashes into my mind. I guess it’s a good leveller. It’s a good reminder that you might be having a bad day or a bad week, but the suffering that others endure in this world is sometimes beyond imaginable.
A book that made you laugh?
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. So, so good: like one liners, but also just families, right? The way families operate, and the tensions and rivalries that build up during the years, but also the tragic turns that people’s lives can take. The flaws in our characters, which play out over time: it’s funny in the short sense, and it’s funny in the long sense.
Is there a book character that you identify with?
It’s very dangerous for a politician to do that, because then someone’s going to read the book and say, she’s this and she’s that, but I am going to tell you a story. When I was at high school, my English teacher at the time decided that, as we were studying The Taming of the Shrew, I was very like the main character, Katherina.
I was at a mostly boys school, and one of the guys asked what a shrew was and the teacher said, “Probably the simplest way to think about it, is to think of someone like Nicola.” Katherina in the play is assertive, wilful, unsuitable for marriage, unlike her lovely sister, who’s beautiful and acquiescent and says the right things and does the right things. And that really galvanised me, because I thought, “I am going to continue to be assertive and wilful.” I was so delighted when a couple of years later, 10 Things I Hate About You came out. And that Katherina [Kat Stratford] gets Heath Ledger in the end. She gets the great guy but also she’s true to herself: she shows you can have your own identity and be unique and that’s a wonderful way to be. I loved that movie. And I looked back at my English teacher saying I was like Katherina and thought, “Yeah, this is my time.”
Favourite New Zealand novel?
I would encourage people to read Greta & Valdin [by Rebecca K Reilly], which is set in Auckland. It’s very evocative of Auckland in our times. People reading this will think the politics of that book aren’t very National party, but it’s well written, and I found it evocative of place, and also of that time in life. So there’s a plug for a novel that not everyone’s read. If I had to pick a classic, it’s the bone people. It was ahead of its time in its depictions of domestic violence, but also in the way that it evoked New Zealand.
Memorable encounter with an author?
Boris Johnson. I always admired him because I’d read his pieces in The Spectator and some of his writing on Churchill. He’s a great writer because he’s well read: he’s read the classics, he’s read Shakespeare. He’s witty, he’s funny, and I’d always enjoyed him. When I was working with John Key, the first international visit he made included a stop to London and I was lucky to go with him. Because Boris was the mayor of London at the time we got to meet with him. The whole thing was an absolute caricature of everything I had heard about Boris: we turned up to the meeting at his office and sat there waiting and waiting until it became very clear from the agitated staff that Boris was late for work.
Eventually, he romped in wearing his pants still clipped into his bicycle shoes, kind of whipping off his helmet, and asked us if we would like a bacon sandwich, saying “You poor things – you look famished.” I had a friend from work who had a crush on him, and asked me to get his autograph. So I asked Boris for this favour for my friend (which I think he thought was not really for a friend) and he went to his desk, opened the top drawer and took out one of a pile of black and white photos of himself and signed it. The whole experience was very memorable.
One book that you think everyone needs to read?
Because the world is uncertain and unstable right now, and it’s easy to think of all the hard things, we should always remember that our world is also profoundly beautiful and wonderful. Orbital by Samantha Harvey is a short read and is written from the perspective of astronauts in space, looking back on the world and thinking about what it is they miss about it, its majesty and its beauty. I found it incredibly uplifting. So if you’re looking for something to perk you up a bit, give it a go.
What are you reading right now
There’s a lot happening at work right now, so I’m reading something I would describe as light relief. It’s called Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. It’s got sex, drugs, rock and roll. What’s not to like?
I have been brewing a concept for a national day for reading, where everybody gets a day off to read. Would you support it?
I’m all about choice. I love reading but I’m not going to say that that’s the way everyone would want to spend their day off. Some people may have things that give them more joy, whether that’s fishing or being with their loved ones or whatever it is. What I am a big proponent of, and I’m trying to get my girlfriends to do with me, is this idea of a reading retreat where you go away with your friends and all you do is read and then come together at night and have dinner and catch ups and talk about what you’re reading. I like that because reading is often an isolated thing, but the idea of reading independently together appeals to me.
Thanks for your time, minister.
My absolute pleasure. I also just want to acknowledge you as a writer, because I think it takes great bravery. And the fact also that you’ve written for children, because that is the entry into reading. I’m just so grateful to have had my parents read to me every night for many years. I think when your child reads a book that speaks to them you’re opening up a whole new depth to life: it gives them opportunities to think more deeply and also to escape from whatever circumstances they might be in. It’s something I’ve tried to give my kids so I’m a big fan of children’s authors.
If you want to read more books confessional by politicians you can go to David Parker, Debbie Ngarewa-Packer, Marama Davidson, and more, at the Books Confessional page.
