Gabriel Ricard: First, obviously, I have to ask you about your wonderful new collection of short stories, Mieke's Ladder. Where did the idea for this collection first begin?
A.R. Lamb: In the womb.
GR: A lot of these stories are connected by certain themes and ideas. Did you work at these stories with the idea of eventually bringing them together? Or was it something that came about because you noticed a trend in the stories you were writing over a certain period of time.
ARL: They just came as and when they saw fit. My job was merely to midwife their arrival and maybe veto the odd phrase. So the connections between them are genetic, rather than contrived.
GR: Something I really took from these stories was the idea that all of us are constantly in danger of losing, if we haven't already, the ability to realize and appreciate that there's a much larger universe out there than the one we've each carved out for ourselves. Was it your design at all to make the reader realize this on a personal level and not just in terms of the stories themselves?
ARL: Of course there is a hope that the reader might experience at least a tiny shift in perception. (But wouldn't such a hope be true of any writer?)
GR: Did you find it difficult to find a balance between telling a good story and explaining your personal philosophy on such matters as spirituality and human nature? Do bringing these things together come naturally to you as a writer?
ARL: I suppose I do have a 'personal philosophy', involving a kind of essentialism, though I never sit down with the intention of expounding it. Whatever comes, comes organically. (If you're telling a story then your concerns must be with plot, with flow, with drama, with surprise.)
GR: There's a very strong touch of the surreal in all these stories. Has that aspect of your writing been influenced by anything in particular?
ARL: If you think back, you'll remember that 'the surreal' is not so much a way of thinking as an objective and autonomous domain. (So it's possible, say, for an advertising copywriter, to be influenced by surrealism without being influenced by 'the surreal'. And it's just as possible for anybody to be influenced by 'the surreal' without any knowledge of surrealism.) One means of contacting the domain is as a medium might contact a spirit - in a trance. I do try to produce the first draft as trancedly as possible.
GR: Is that same surreal aspect of the stories a deliberate addition in order to get the attention of the reader? Or is it just a backdrop you enjoy creating for your stories.
ARL: So, no, not a 'deliberate addition', nor 'just a backdrop', but the very core of the thing.
GR: Do you have a favorite of the twelve?
ARL: No. I'm quite fond of them all.
GR: What I liked most about Mieke's Ladder is how well it works on so many levels. The people who just want to have a good short story to read and nothing more will find a lot to enjoy in this book. But for the reader who might demand a little more than that, the book can offer an extraordinary wealth of ideas and possibilities. Did you write these with the hope of reaching such a diverse audience? Because I have to admit, I had a hard time deciding if that was always your intention or not.
ARL: As far as ideas are concerned, I admit I prefer riches to poverty. I do like to refer to Something Else as well as Something; if the Something Else is missed by the reader then the Something should be enough to sustain interest. (I should add that the stories possess little in common with allegory, which I take to be a conscious system of misrepresentation.) But really, the writer's opinion of a story's meaning is no more valid than the opinion of any one of its readers.
GR: Was it your plan to publish these stories in so many different publications before bringing them together for this collection? If so, why?
ARL: No plan. Just send them out and see if they resonated.
GR: I understand you're a sculptor. What got you into that line of work? Would you ever consider giving it up if you were able to make a comfortable living as a writer?
ARL: From an early age I felt that manual work would be the best accompaniment to developing an individual style as a writer (influenced no doubt by archetypes such as peasant-poet and noble savage.) So, after dropping out of university, where I'd quickly become even more disillusioned with the notion of literary criticism, I went to work as a farm-labourer, then spent a few years in the building-trade before ending up in a bronze-foundry. There I learned the various facets of that ancient craft (the lost-wax process, which has gone on virtually unchanged for the last six thousand years) and eventually began to produce my own pieces. I like to make things. I like to wrestle with matter. So, no, I wouldn't give it up even if I didn't need the money.
GR: You have a long-standing interest in combining music with poetry. Though I haven't heard your first recording, Bark of a Stray Dog, I'm fascinated by the idea. Especially after reading Mieke's Ladder. Anything new coming out from you in this particular field?
ARL: Yes. I have produced quite a few albums since Bark of a Stray Dog, the most recent being Sky Is, with mellifluous Manhattan poet George Wallace and Kernow bys Vykken, with Mick Paynter, the lyrics of which are entirely in Kernewek, the Cornish language, which is far older and far more indigenous to Britain than English. George was already an accomplished performer, with a Stradivarius of a voice, whereas Mick possessed an untapped, though no less amazing, talent, which was a delight to nurture.
GR: You've also written a couple of novels, Divers and Secession. Tell us a bit about them?
ARL: They're both fairly funny, but of the two Secession is probably the more accessible and certainly easier to say something about in a few words, as it's a straightforward linear story involving a bunch of people disillusioned with arid western culture who decide to migrate to the moor and pursue an independent and primitive existence. One wag has called it 'possibly the most significant contribution to fungal utopianism ever.'
GR: Is the art of the short story a dying art, in your opinion?
ARL: Perhaps, but only in a commercial sense.
GR: You seem to cover a lot of ground as a writer. Poetry, short fiction, novels, collaborations and of course, combining music and poetry. Of all these, which do you feel best captures your voice as a writer?
ARL: I think the stories do the job as well as any of the other endeavours.
GR: What can we expect as a follow-up to Mieke's Ladder?
ARL: A tale set in two ports: Odessa, Ukraine and Plymouth, UK.
Gabriel Ricard is a Staff Interviewer at Unlikely 2.0. You can learn more about him at his bio page.