Whenever I do anything I shall try to think of your suffering and be grateful and double my efforts on your behalf. May you find the strength you need to get you through this time.
I was so sorry Hanif to hear of your accident. You have always been a favourite author of mine. Your readers are here reading and listening to your voice as you write here for us and you are still of course the writer whether the pen is currently in your hand or not. I do hope your move from the current hospital setting gives you some escape from the four walls and that it is the beginning of your journey to recovery. Like others here I have my own story of meeting you (well nearly). I saw you at a reading event at a Literature festival in Berlin for your book The Body, I was living In Berlin that very hot summer, I had already read the book in English and was quite taken by the story and the sorrow of it. I think of that story now and about the relationship we with have with our bodies and what our bodies mean to us and our identities. I remember asking you a question at the end of why you had ended the story in the way you had, I found it sad and had hoped for a happy ending. Its not often a story I read stays with me but that one did. I'm thinking about that story now as I read your current stories.
A couple of years later I was training as a Psychologist in Hammersmith and working in schools, I remember seeing you, I guess it may have been at your kids' primary school, but of course as 'a professional' it was not appropriate to 'accost' a parent, whether they were a favourite author or not!
Wishing you a full and speedy recovery. Also I hope you get some writing tech sorted while you are recovering. Most tech has fairly good voice recognition now, I quite like using the dictation on Word on my Mac and using the google assistant on an android phone for searching stuff isn't bad either.
You are a truly wonderful communicator and you are so right about the confusion in many people’s minds between good and bad writing, connected and disconnected reading. I know that very few people can read thoroughly any more because of the absurd responses I get to my carefully written emails. As someone who interviews and arranges interviews in a cultural context I am so aware of those who can actually listen to what is being said and those who can’t. My husband died completely unexpectedly this week and I was reflecting on the few days before when we had been socialising with a young Lithuanian interviewer and her family how she was so alert to what my husband was saying that it triggered a torrent of fascinating stuff from this wonderful man who I was lucky enough to have spent 52 years with. Gifts come in many forms.
I hope you are encouraging someone in the hospital who is bilingual to read this blog so that they can brief the staff a bit better. How maddening. All support flowing from London.
I am not keen on these nurses - especially the one who upset the film and tablet. You are most certainly a writer - why? Your voice telling the story which is bitter sweet . It is so hard to pin it down though - I think talking about a dire situation in a way that engages without repulsing is key / when I write humour underlines all of it - it’s a good way to share stuff. Look forward to your tomorrow and hope you do too ⭐️
"With real writing, there is contact between the deepest part of one person, and that of another." I don't know if you are writing from your deepest part, but there's no question you have made contact with my deepest part here in your posts. What a gift i am receiving! Thank you.
I am new to your newsletter, but not to your writing, and I was shocked to read of your accident.
This morning, before I found your newsletter (mentioned in the New York Times), I worked on a short story. It was after I'd marked up a page and made the revisions that I read the New York Times and subscribed to your newsletter. And then, when I read this entry in your newsletter, with what you have to say about reading and writing, it came to me that all of us who love literature, whether we contribute our own works or consume with great appreciation the works of others, are part of a great community around the world. Thank you so much for creating this newsletter, and bringing us into your life at this time.
I am heartened by the news that some movement is returning -- that's a great sign! I am inclined to believe the physiotherapist who said you will again pick up a pen and write.
I hope your new situation will include nurses who make sure you get those delicious Italian pastries, and perhaps a good espresso or gelato now and then. (And also, that most fabulous of Roman pastas: cacio e pepe,)
I hope you’re able to enjoy breakfast tomorrow - how frustrating. I don’t know what the Italian health system is like but I hope the new place suits you better. It sounds very hopeful that you’re getting a wheelchair - being mobile is liberating. Thankyou for your updates. You’re often in my thoughts each day.
The sixth floor and other patients means you’ll never not get that delicious breakfast because a nurse doesnt know he/she is supposed to feed you - you’ll have a chorus to speak up.
Dear Hanif, I so sympathise for you in the frustration over breakfast! Had similar a while ago during a stay in hospital - something put down and taken away before I could eat… In these daily things life clearly feels terribly changed. I really hope that a change to a specialist faculty will bring more progress and less frustration. But thank you for writing - it is inspiring and life affirming to read.
needless to say, I've been very indignant that this should have happened to you - the news of you being hospitalized over Christmas on BBC 3's Breakfast was distressing - an accident, if it was an accident, had happened to yet someone else who'd meant something to me.
Hoping that paralysis will release its grip on you, I've meant to write you the following since:
while doing research on children's stories in French, I came across a French storyteller who is also a voracious reader of international literature - Patricia Sanaoui Olivier. On her website (patriciasanaoui.wordpress.com) she announces her stories-workshops and recommends novels she's read. She absolutely loved your "The Last Word" novel which she briefly summarized for her Blog's readers on 6 March 2015 - Le Dernier Mot d'Hanif Kureishi - without revealing its dénouement (https://patriciasanaoui.wordpress.com/?s=hanif+Kureishi). I myself haven't read it, but while researching programmes on Radio France, I came upon a French ethnologist who is also a novel writer - Marc Augé - one of whose novels' plots struck me as being similar to yours of "The Last Word" - "Quelqu'un Cherche à Vous Retrouver" (https://www.seuil.com/ouvrage/quelqu-un-cherche-a-vous-retrouver-marc-auge/9782020997034.) I thought you might be interested to have a look at it.
And another coincidence, before I'd written you from Sofia, Bulgaria, which is where I come from, in 2019, on a website which bore your name and was about creative writing - if it was a genuine website of yours, because it disappeared shortly afterwards - there was the photo of a girl reading on it - I'd found and bought a second-hand copy of your very first volume of plays in a bookstore in Rome - I could possibly find its name if I went back through my post - where a very kind woman who sent me the book explained to me it was the bookstore where people studying English at uni in Rome used to get their English books from. It had felt nice finding the book in Rome rather than in the UK, as who doesn't like Rome?, but once again, like with other second-hand books which had been printed decades earlier, I found myself allergic to its paper. So now is the time to suggest that your earliest work should be re-published by Faber, if possible, and not only this anthology, but also other singly published plays. I for one like reading and listening to the very first works of writers and musicians.
I'll try to write you a little later again - I need to see whether I'll be able to write something lived into something more of a fiction.
In the meantime, since I now live in France, the French for take courage is bon courage, although the English sounds more powerfully!
"Buddha of Suburbia" is one of my all-time favorite films. and you one of my all-time favorite writers. Your perspective from the aftermath of this tragedy is astonishing and I thank you for sharing and thank your son for helping you do so and all those who are affected and assisting you. Your lively mind knows no bounds... may your body heal may your body heal. may your curiosity and wit help keep you sane through these travails.
Whenever I do anything I shall try to think of your suffering and be grateful and double my efforts on your behalf. May you find the strength you need to get you through this time.
I was so sorry Hanif to hear of your accident. You have always been a favourite author of mine. Your readers are here reading and listening to your voice as you write here for us and you are still of course the writer whether the pen is currently in your hand or not. I do hope your move from the current hospital setting gives you some escape from the four walls and that it is the beginning of your journey to recovery. Like others here I have my own story of meeting you (well nearly). I saw you at a reading event at a Literature festival in Berlin for your book The Body, I was living In Berlin that very hot summer, I had already read the book in English and was quite taken by the story and the sorrow of it. I think of that story now and about the relationship we with have with our bodies and what our bodies mean to us and our identities. I remember asking you a question at the end of why you had ended the story in the way you had, I found it sad and had hoped for a happy ending. Its not often a story I read stays with me but that one did. I'm thinking about that story now as I read your current stories.
A couple of years later I was training as a Psychologist in Hammersmith and working in schools, I remember seeing you, I guess it may have been at your kids' primary school, but of course as 'a professional' it was not appropriate to 'accost' a parent, whether they were a favourite author or not!
Wishing you a full and speedy recovery. Also I hope you get some writing tech sorted while you are recovering. Most tech has fairly good voice recognition now, I quite like using the dictation on Word on my Mac and using the google assistant on an android phone for searching stuff isn't bad either.
You are a truly wonderful communicator and you are so right about the confusion in many people’s minds between good and bad writing, connected and disconnected reading. I know that very few people can read thoroughly any more because of the absurd responses I get to my carefully written emails. As someone who interviews and arranges interviews in a cultural context I am so aware of those who can actually listen to what is being said and those who can’t. My husband died completely unexpectedly this week and I was reflecting on the few days before when we had been socialising with a young Lithuanian interviewer and her family how she was so alert to what my husband was saying that it triggered a torrent of fascinating stuff from this wonderful man who I was lucky enough to have spent 52 years with. Gifts come in many forms.
I hope you are encouraging someone in the hospital who is bilingual to read this blog so that they can brief the staff a bit better. How maddening. All support flowing from London.
I'm upset about the ipad and breakfast. I'm sorry that happened. It shouldn't.
Things will be different in the new specialist rehab facility. You've got hard work ahead of you but you will succeed.
I'm just horrified about your breakfast!
I am not keen on these nurses - especially the one who upset the film and tablet. You are most certainly a writer - why? Your voice telling the story which is bitter sweet . It is so hard to pin it down though - I think talking about a dire situation in a way that engages without repulsing is key / when I write humour underlines all of it - it’s a good way to share stuff. Look forward to your tomorrow and hope you do too ⭐️
"With real writing, there is contact between the deepest part of one person, and that of another." I don't know if you are writing from your deepest part, but there's no question you have made contact with my deepest part here in your posts. What a gift i am receiving! Thank you.
Dear Hanif,
I am new to your newsletter, but not to your writing, and I was shocked to read of your accident.
This morning, before I found your newsletter (mentioned in the New York Times), I worked on a short story. It was after I'd marked up a page and made the revisions that I read the New York Times and subscribed to your newsletter. And then, when I read this entry in your newsletter, with what you have to say about reading and writing, it came to me that all of us who love literature, whether we contribute our own works or consume with great appreciation the works of others, are part of a great community around the world. Thank you so much for creating this newsletter, and bringing us into your life at this time.
I am heartened by the news that some movement is returning -- that's a great sign! I am inclined to believe the physiotherapist who said you will again pick up a pen and write.
I hope your new situation will include nurses who make sure you get those delicious Italian pastries, and perhaps a good espresso or gelato now and then. (And also, that most fabulous of Roman pastas: cacio e pepe,)
Hi Hanif,
I hope you’re able to enjoy breakfast tomorrow - how frustrating. I don’t know what the Italian health system is like but I hope the new place suits you better. It sounds very hopeful that you’re getting a wheelchair - being mobile is liberating. Thankyou for your updates. You’re often in my thoughts each day.
Kate x
The sixth floor and other patients means you’ll never not get that delicious breakfast because a nurse doesnt know he/she is supposed to feed you - you’ll have a chorus to speak up.
Brilliant writing under the most extreme circumstances. Bravo.
Dear Hanif, I so sympathise for you in the frustration over breakfast! Had similar a while ago during a stay in hospital - something put down and taken away before I could eat… In these daily things life clearly feels terribly changed. I really hope that a change to a specialist faculty will bring more progress and less frustration. But thank you for writing - it is inspiring and life affirming to read.
Dear Hanif,
needless to say, I've been very indignant that this should have happened to you - the news of you being hospitalized over Christmas on BBC 3's Breakfast was distressing - an accident, if it was an accident, had happened to yet someone else who'd meant something to me.
Hoping that paralysis will release its grip on you, I've meant to write you the following since:
while doing research on children's stories in French, I came across a French storyteller who is also a voracious reader of international literature - Patricia Sanaoui Olivier. On her website (patriciasanaoui.wordpress.com) she announces her stories-workshops and recommends novels she's read. She absolutely loved your "The Last Word" novel which she briefly summarized for her Blog's readers on 6 March 2015 - Le Dernier Mot d'Hanif Kureishi - without revealing its dénouement (https://patriciasanaoui.wordpress.com/?s=hanif+Kureishi). I myself haven't read it, but while researching programmes on Radio France, I came upon a French ethnologist who is also a novel writer - Marc Augé - one of whose novels' plots struck me as being similar to yours of "The Last Word" - "Quelqu'un Cherche à Vous Retrouver" (https://www.seuil.com/ouvrage/quelqu-un-cherche-a-vous-retrouver-marc-auge/9782020997034.) I thought you might be interested to have a look at it.
And another coincidence, before I'd written you from Sofia, Bulgaria, which is where I come from, in 2019, on a website which bore your name and was about creative writing - if it was a genuine website of yours, because it disappeared shortly afterwards - there was the photo of a girl reading on it - I'd found and bought a second-hand copy of your very first volume of plays in a bookstore in Rome - I could possibly find its name if I went back through my post - where a very kind woman who sent me the book explained to me it was the bookstore where people studying English at uni in Rome used to get their English books from. It had felt nice finding the book in Rome rather than in the UK, as who doesn't like Rome?, but once again, like with other second-hand books which had been printed decades earlier, I found myself allergic to its paper. So now is the time to suggest that your earliest work should be re-published by Faber, if possible, and not only this anthology, but also other singly published plays. I for one like reading and listening to the very first works of writers and musicians.
I'll try to write you a little later again - I need to see whether I'll be able to write something lived into something more of a fiction.
In the meantime, since I now live in France, the French for take courage is bon courage, although the English sounds more powerfully!
I am rooting for you!
Dear Hanif
You will get better. Never doubt it; not for a moment. You have too much to do. We are all with you. Love from Canada
"Buddha of Suburbia" is one of my all-time favorite films. and you one of my all-time favorite writers. Your perspective from the aftermath of this tragedy is astonishing and I thank you for sharing and thank your son for helping you do so and all those who are affected and assisting you. Your lively mind knows no bounds... may your body heal may your body heal. may your curiosity and wit help keep you sane through these travails.