Sebastian Barry, a 71-year-old author originally from Dublin, launched his literary career with his first novel in 1982. His works, including “A Long Long Way” and “The Secret Scripture,” were nominated for the Booker Prize in 2005 and 2008, respectively, with three additional titles also receiving longlist recognition. Barry has been honored twice with the Costa Book of the Year award and has served as a laureate for Irish fiction. He is scheduled to speak about his newest book, “The Newer World,” at the Queen’s Park Book Festival in London tomorrow. Barry resides in County Wicklow with his wife and their three children.
When asked about his happiest moment, Barry reflects on a time when he was 25, living on the Greek island of Paros, feeling both exhausted and joyful as he cared for his young children.
His greatest fear involves the potential of running out of time or financial resources. Barry candidly expresses a trait he wishes to improve upon: his tendency not to listen, a quality he is actively working to change.
Describing himself in three words, he chooses “peculiar, intense, awkward.” He admits that his own presence often brings him unhappiness and he is particularly displeased with the physical changes brought by aging, referring to them as grotesque.
If given the chance to revive something that has become extinct, he would choose to see selflessness return to the realm of politics. Among his less appealing habits, he mentions snoring, noting that there is now an app that allows him to hear his own loud snores.
Barry expresses concern about the process of aging, fearing the inevitability of becoming older, while acknowledging that reaching this stage of life is also a privilege. As a child, he dreamt of succeeding Bob Dylan as a musician, a hope that remained unfulfilled as Dylan never stepped down.
One of the most hurtful comments he has received came in 1985 when he entered the Poetry Society for a reading and was confronted by the esteemed poet John Montague, who questioned his presence there. Barry feels a deep sense of gratitude to his parents, as he believes that summarizing his debts to them would require a lengthy narrative, but attributes to them a respect for writers and admiration for actors.
If he could convey an apology, it would be to a vulnerable boy from a school tour whom he feels he was unkind to; Barry wishes he could travel back in time to offer genuine friendship instead.
In terms of love, he identifies his wife, Ali, as the greatest love of his life, describing her as a complete individual in contrast to himself. He characterizes love as a multifaceted experience, encompassing responsibility, tests, and profound joy.
Barry reflects on the meaning of expressing love, stating that there have been instances where he may have said “I love you” without fully understanding its significance at the time. He often finds himself using words like “radiant” and “mighty,” which he considers positive descriptors.
If he could rewrite his past, he would make countless minor adjustments but ultimately accepts his life as it has unfolded, even if it includes moments of depression and foolishness.
At his current age, Barry humorously notes that sexual activity now feels like a blend of nostalgia and aspiration. He believes his quality of life would greatly improve with complete mental health. When reflecting on his accomplishments, he proudly mentions his ability to create an authentic moussaka.
Typical worries that keep him awake at night include pondering whether he is a good person and concerns about surviving his next book tour. When asked what he desires more of, he states he would prefer additional humanity over sex, money, or fame.
Finally, Barry contemplates his legacy, expressing apprehension about how he will be remembered, pondering whether he might be seen as foolish yet fondly regarded.
