Monica Ali: You Ask The Questions

What does an Oxford-educated girl from Bolton know about Brick Lane's Bangladeshi community? And do you take literary prizes seriously?

Monica Ali was born in Dhaka, East Pakistan, in 1967 to a Bengali father and an English mother. During the civil war that led to the creation of Bangladesh, the family moved to Bolton, Lancashire. After graduating from Oxford University, she spent her twenties working in publishing and marketing. In July 2001, just after the birth of her second child, she started to write her first novel, Brick Lane, which is set in a Bangladeshi community in London's East End. She got a book deal based on its first five chapters and, before it was published, she was on Granta's 2003 list of the Best Young British Novelists. She lives in London with her husband and children.

Monica Ali was born in Dhaka, East Pakistan, in 1967 to a Bengali father and an English mother. During the civil war that led to the creation of Bangladesh, the family moved to Bolton, Lancashire. After graduating from Oxford University, she spent her twenties working in publishing and marketing. In July 2001, just after the birth of her second child, she started to write her first novel, Brick Lane, which is set in a Bangladeshi community in London's East End. She got a book deal based on its first five chapters and, before it was published, she was on Granta's 2003 list of the Best Young British Novelists. She lives in London with her husband and children.

No sooner had you started to write, than you were famous. Do you feel you would have benefited from a few years of penniless struggle?
Olivia Hunneman, Windsor

When I started to write I assumed there would be nothing but penniless struggle. Then, when the book was sold around the world after the first five chapters, I stopped writing altogether for about a month. My fear was that when I started to write again I might feel all these expectant editors in the room with me. It could have been a catastrophe.

Luckily, when I sat down again to my blank screen, I didn't feel anyone peering over my shoulder. And having an advance made it a lot easier - it meant I could afford some childcare instead of having to write in the middle of the night.

What does an Oxford-educated girl from Bolton know about Brick Lane's Bangladeshi community?
Bill Howarth, by e-mail

Thus far in my life, and in my writing, I have not found being educated (even at Oxford), being female or being from Bolton to be impediments of any kind.

Traditionally, motherhood is supposed to dull the creative juices. But, in your case, it finally spurred you on to write. Why?
Charlotte Hussey, by e-mail

It was something to do with confidence; the desire to find my own mental space; an element also of wanting to preserve some of the stories that my father told me for my own children; and the incentive to use whatever little time I had to myself in a constructive way.

To enjoy being with small children, and for them to enjoy you, it's largely necessary to engage in the quality of the present moment, and this is their great gift to adults who are continually engaged in looking back and hazarding forwards. So now, when I write, I'm inventing pasts for my characters and creating their futures, and when I'm with my kids, I find the present tense again. It's a good balance in life.

In Brick Lane, you explore the popularity of Islamic militancy in Britain. Do you agree with the security forces that a terrorist attack in Britain is only a matter of time?
Nina Rutter, Chichester

Yes. I think that the war and the continuing occupation of Iraq have made the world a less safe place, and we are not immune to the dangers.

Who was the most interesting person you met while researching Brick Lane?
Mel Yates, Leeds

One conversation I particularly enjoyed was with a guy who worked in a restaurant. He'd been born and brought up in London but was building a "palace" in Bangladesh. He was going to use it for holidays and also thought about retiring there. What intrigued me most were the layers and complexity of his relationships with the people back there - how he saw them, how they saw him, and the inevitable conflicts of the situation.

How seriously do you take literary prizes?
Bob Carter, London

They're only serious if you win them. Otherwise, they're obviously totally irrelevant and utterly laughable.

What books were you reading when you were 14?
Clare Morgan, Barking

I went through passionate reading crushes when I was a schoolgirl. I was about 14 when I had my Zola phase, for instance. I got all of his books out of Bolton Library and devoured them one after another. I read one again the other month ( Thérèse Raquin) and it seemed ridiculously melodramatic. I can see why I liked it so much at the time.

You left Bangladesh when you were very young as a result of the civil war. What memories do you have of that time?
Dave Skeggs, by e-mail

Not many: only fragments and the "inherited" memories that come with hearing stories over and over again. When the Pakistani tanks rolled into Dhaka, and after a number of my father's colleagues had been called to a meeting and shot, we used to sleep out on the balcony at night, fully clothed in case a knock came at the door.

The plan was that if we had to run, my father would clamber out on to the branches of a mango tree and my mother would pass the children over and we would go to hide in the grounds of the next-door orphanage. I used to think a lot about the mango tree, wondering how big it was, whether it would take our combined weight and how easy it would have been to climb and fall down from it.

If you had to set a Britishness test, what would be the criteria?
Sandra Argent, Chester

You'd have to apologise automatically if somebody treads on your toes, eat a vindaloo without burping and become lachrymose by the third bar of "Land of Hope and Glory." I think there are more useful things we can do. I'm involved with a project that brings together asylum-seekers and refugees with British citizens where the aim is to facilitate integration. The learning is not all one way though. I've certainly learnt a lot from my "mentee".

In Brick Lane, when the central character, Nazneen, is born her family decide that she should be "Left to Her Fate". Do you ever feel that fate has played an important role in your life?
Jo Osbourne, Chipping Norton

The book is essentially a meditation on fate and free will. It is a topic that interests me profoundly. The central issue for Nazneen is, "What is it in my life that I can control and what must be accepted?" For her, everything is framed in terms of her own particular social, cultural, religious and family background. She has very different terms of reference to the average Westerner, but the issues are universal.

While Nazneen is most often blind to the potential for autonomy, I'd say that I am more or less the opposite, and too frequently blind to the limits of autonomy.

Brick Lane has been called "a despicable insult to Bangladeshis at home and abroad". The focus of the complaint was the opinions expressed by the male protagonist, Chanu, who is disparaging about the Bangladeshi community in Britain. To what extent do you agree with his beliefs?
Sarah Rigby, Manchester

That criticism was the opinion of one man, who succeeded in getting some publicity both for himself and - inevitably - for Brick Lane. It doesn't represent the very large, very positive response I've had from readers with a Bengali heritage.

Do I agree with Chanu's beliefs? About what? About white people all being "ignorant types"? About doctors being nothing more than parrots, with no true learning? About wives being kept indoors as much as possible? About the Queen having met virtually every one of her citizens?

How's the second novel going?
Chris Jonas, by e-mail

I've decided to skip out that difficult second novel and move straight on to the third, which apparently is much easier.

'Brick Lane' by Monica Ali is now available as a Black Swan paperback at £7.99