Novel “White Clouds”: Yandé Seck: Written, cried, read, cried

We are sitting in the Glauburg Café in the middle of Frankfurt’s Nordend, which plays a role in your novel; many other street, café and restaurant names are also mentioned; you could read “White Clouds” as a kind of city guide. Why did you choose this setting?

First of all, it’s totally familiar to me, I went to elementary school 200 meters as the crow flies from here. While I was writing, I sat in my apartment in Offenbach and was able to basically take a walk in the Nordend in my head. The fact that many scenes take place in cafés and bars was more of an unconscious act. It is often the case that awkward, theoretical things are discussed with friends in a café. These are places where you bring them into everyday life. When teaching, I like to ask my students how they would explain a complicated issue to a friend over coffee. I’m also interested in how specific places change. In the book, for example, the festival hall appears – first it is a corona vaccination center, then Trevor Noah’s stand-up show takes place there. If you live somewhere long enough, a place will be reinterpreted. And finally, the Nordend is a bit like a hyper-Bullerbü world, the exaggeration of a very specific lifestyle.

Interview

kiwi-verlag.de

Yandé Seck was born in Heidelberg in 1986 and now lives in Offenbach, where she works as a psychotherapist for children and young people and also teaches at the Goethe University in Frankfurt. »White Clouds« (KiWi Verlag) is her debut novel.

They actually come from science. Was there a specific trigger why you decided to write a novel?

You say it so simply, I come from a science background. I went into science and initially felt alienated; I also can’t claim that I was at home in psychotherapy right from the start. I find it generally exciting and also very important to take a closer look at social influences, in contrast to this individualizing view that we have in psychotherapy. There is a beautiful saying by Maya Angelou that no matter how much you forget about people, you will always remember how they made you feel. When you think about science now, this is exactly what is neglected. When I discovered Sally Rooney, who combines intellectuality with intimacy, I thought: Oh, you can do that too! That opened a door for me. I first wrote small snippets and gave them to my family to read at Christmas 2020. In 2021, during the lockdown, I said to myself: Now I’m going to use the time and get to work.

What are the white clouds in the title?

When you look at fingernails, you often see small white spots, especially in children. You can call them Leukonychia punctata or white clouds. The fact that these clouds are actually injuries is a wonderful analogy for social conditions that affect us as humans and leave traces. I’ve been thinking about whiteness. The “white race” first had to be invented – an insane idea. A certain appearance has been brought close to purity, something sacred. At some point I asked myself what is really white – and for all people, regardless of ethnicity. Teeth, for example, but “White Teeth” is already taken (laughs).

You allude to Zadie Smith, “White Clouds” is also about Frantz Fanon and Freud, but also about the dating format “Love Island”, you combine intellectual and pop culture topics…

These are exactly the topics that interest me. For example, I really like the fact that Salman Rushdie loves manga and therefore lives in the same world as my 17-year-old son. If someone can think complexly and address the big questions of humanity, but is also interested in everyday things and doesn’t act as if they are always floating two centimeters above the ground, I think that’s great. I was also interested in breaking it down a bit and bringing different topics together.

Two of the three narrators are black sisters, their age difference is around eight years, but one is more concerned with her middle-class life and everyday life, the other with anti-racist discourses. Did you set up these two poles that way from the start?

Personally, I am active in both fields. When I talk to scientists critical of racism who have the privilege of calmly immersing themselves in texts and theory, it is different than what I experience in my work as a therapist in Offenbach. On the other hand, I think that in therapeutic work there is a total blindness to recognizing that something has arisen socially. Especially when we talk about race, we often fall back to a totally immature level. The public discourse in recent years has given me a space, and that ended up in the novel with the character Zazie: rebellion, anger, which also clashes with Dieo’s life. Zazie’s behavior is certainly a little adolescent, but the beauty of fiction is that you can let a character freak out.

Dieo, on the other hand, is much calmer.

I’m much more like her in nature. It moves more within the social boundaries of what one is allowed to do. They are simply different realities of life. When I speak or write as a black woman, many of the spaces in which I move or that I define for myself are cut and shaped. For example, I am expected to know Africa, preferably the entire continent. There is often a desire or even demand to get to know Africa through authors. As a result, the sovereignty of interpretation is once again in the hands of others.

The third narrator, alongside Dieo and Zazie, is Simon, a white man. Was it difficult to accept this perspective – or not at all because mainstream society shows you what it’s like to be a white man?

Both. If you turn the whole thing around, I would say that Colum McCann, who wrote about the black prostitute Tillie in The Big World in the 1970s, needed more research, and he did it brilliantly. At the same time, it was really interesting to empathize with Simon in this way, because the plot prevents me from simply dismissing him as a typical middle-aged white man. His behavior is also a question of his frame of reference – Simon is a city dweller and progressive. And then there comes a lot of times where he still thinks: Huh, am I still doing everything wrong? This is of course associated with uncertainty. And I find exploring these unpleasant feelings exciting.

The racist attack in Hanau also plays a small role. When you write about Frankfurt and Offenbach – especially in the context of racism – is it almost inevitable to discuss Hanau?

Four years ago I had to put it in a box and somehow find its way back into everyday life. But perhaps the geographical proximity gives you a different sense of responsibility to deal with the trauma. It was important to me to also find words of comfort. I am very grateful to others when they deal with trauma on behalf of all of us. Literature is also there to provide access. Lukas Bärfuss, for example, worked through all the archives and then wrote a novel about the Hutu and Tutsi (“One Hundred Days,” editor’s note. Red.), while the brutality would definitely have made me vomit. He did this work and made it available to us. Writing about Hanau took me two weeks, during which I tried again and again, wrote, cried, read again, cried. That was the only way it was even possible. This makes you understand why writing is actually a full-time job.

Become a member of the nd.Genossenschaft!

Since January 1, 2022, the »nd« will be published as an independent left-wing newspaper owned by the staff and readers. Be there and support media diversity and visible left-wing positions as a cooperative member. Fill out the membership application now.

More information on www.dasnd.de/genossenschaft