Hugh and the Writer’s Bookshelf

 My monthly conversation with my friend Hugh is always a delight.

We ramble through our own idiosyncrasies and preoccupations, our families, current films, politics and theatre - and books, always books. Hugh encourages me to re-read the Victorian novelists. I put him onto my more contemporary favourites. Sometimes we happen to talk about my own novels, which he has been reading. He also reads my work in progress with enlightened interest. (New novel now - going full steam ahead…)

At one point last week he asked me how old I was when I knew –

just knew – I would be a writer. I had a think and said, ‘I would be eight or nine.’ His eyebrows raised and he gave a little smile.

But it’s true. As often happens, Hugh made me think of my process: how the acquisition and maintenance of  my tools, for becoming and being the writer I am, has taken a lifetime to acquire.

You need to start early - reading voraciously and writing almost continually are the surest foundation. . 

When I was nine I regularly borrowed five library books a week. I also wrote stories and published little books of my own, made of folded paper and hand stitched spines. I used to keep this practice a secret but as I met more lifetime writers I discovered quite a few had made little books in their childhood,

One necessity for any writer aiming for success in writing novels is the ingenuity and skill to create physical and mental space in your life to free up your spirit and unleash your imagination; to make space and time to spin up ideas and make ever new and ever better stories. To  prioritise your writing before all your other preoccupations. - Not very easy for girls or women I feel - the aristocratic Vita Sackville West with her tower, and the self-evident genius Virginia Woolf with her meticulous husband might be the exception here.

So,  child into adult,  you read – from Fairy Tales to children’s

comics, From Jane Austen to Wilkie Collins, From Virginia Woolf to John le Carré, from Dorothy L Sayers to Ian Rankin, from Willa Cather to Ian McKewan, from RD Blackmore to Catherine Cookson,. And on. And on.

The intense process of reading good writers alongside your own writing process has a profound effect. Even so, one should never assume that you’ll find universal answers to your writer’s questions that will transform you unto JK Rowling or JR Tolkien, Alice Hoffman or Zadie Smith.

The effect is more subtle than this. You read these novels, imagining they can read you. In the process your own writing somehow clarifies itself in terms of category, syntax and style. It improves because your sense of writing as a skill deepens and you come to define and develop your own style and essential themes.

Inevitably reading as a writer becomes part of your natural creative process. You notice how good writers in every field have this or that effect. Even while enjoying a novel for itself you will notice vivid characterisation, the dynamics of pace, the evocative locations, the elegant structure.

Of course, being your own original writer, you won’t mimic, or

copy such things in your own work, or else your novel will become a parody - if not a travesty. But the awareness of such fine approaches will embed itself in your subconscious and will find a natural place in your writing and influence your style.  

 So, from the very beginning I have discovered that reading

leads to writing leads to more reading and better writing. 

And now I come directly to books that focus more deliberately on the technicalities of the writing process. 

Today one can almost drown in the plethora of advice on this subject, on the authorweb, in articles, between the covers of a book, or in course books for the thousands of ‘Creative Writing courses..

I am always coming across lists (I have written some myself …) that promise to ensure your success with their top tips for :-:

Creating great characters

Editing your book

Ending your novel

Increasing your pace

Enhancing your prose

Pitching your novel to an agent, publisher

Promoting your book

Of course these can be important aspects of improving your writing and require your close attention - but, ensuring success?

If only! I say, with a wry smile.

In my workshops I often tell people that every writer should have

behind them their own writer’s  bookshelf  - books specifically focusing on the writing process and creativity, written by writers whose own writing has an appreciative audience out there in the difficult field of published fiction.  

It’s good to avoid the sources that can be very shallow pools, sometimes written by writers whose creative output consists of instructional books on the writing process. Writing a novel creatively and organisationally, is the hardest most disciplined creative task. Writing a book about writing a novel is easy compared to this,

I ask you! Would you take advice as a potter from a person whose only output had been recipes for, the constituency of, and the location of clay?

We writers all have our chosen books – to pick up at the end of the day; to tap into the creativity of accomplished writers from across the world and recharge our own. Glancing at my shelf I see I have books for all seasons. You will have your own.

Amongst mine are:

• Stephen King’s: On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft  - Honest professional self knowledge from a master practitioner.

•  

• The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. - Reminds us that writing is part of a creative family incorporating art and music. We borrow from and create with our brothers and sisters

•  

• Zen and the Art of Writing:  |Releasing  the Creative Genius Within You. Ray Bradbury – what it says on the tin.

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• This Year You Write Your Novel by Walter Mosely. A practical guide offering structure and inspiration to beginners and more experienced writers
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• Almost anything by Susan Sontag including Against Interpretation and Other Essays   Pure inspiration towards your liberated creative self.

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•  
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• Almost anything by Ursula le Guin including The Wave of the Mind; Talks and Essays on the Writer, the Reader and the Imagination She’s a passionate thinker with an imagination that touches universals.

•  

• A special mention for Avril Joy’s  From Writing With Love. Ane enabling and inspiring book  from a novelist and artist.  If you are looking for inspiration and encouragement, sign on of Avril Joy’s newsletter. The best weekly source around,
• 
  

• But even such great books are only of helpful if your own talent for prose and story is already highly developed by the lifelong reading/writing/reading process described above with the proviso that your writer’s confidence is mature enough for you to incorporate good advice and reject advice that doesn’t enhance you own unique writing.

 

I now come to the book that would be on my shelf if there were only room for one.

I sometimes think I have read every book on the writing process in the world and now can learn nothing new.

However came I recently across How Fiction Works by James Wood and keep going back and back to take it all in. This book is beautifully written, highly informed, drawing writing inferences from hundreds of novels, stretching right back Don Quixote from to Ian McEwen.

Most importantly James Wood makes a passionate and compelling case for the novel as a form, arguing that it puts other forms of creative writing firmly in the shade.

This absolutely coincides with my view and I have been waiting for someone to put this case as well as this.

How Fiction Works is inspiring and full of ideas which are now spurring me on the stretch my writing game and not settle for anything less than my best.

For International Woman's Day: An Extraordinary Woman:

 The Muse Still At My Shoulder

Always the Professional

I was casting around, looking for inspiration for something to write on International Women's Day. As a long term feminist there some attractive (though not enough) choices of good role models and inspirational women. The patriarchy still rules.

But I started to think that the most significant and influential role models were much closer to home than the international scene.


Then I came across again the post I wrote on my mother's birthday - New Years Eve - in 2009. When I think of it she - a feisty independent woman, a widow who was the daughter of a widow - both of whom brought up successful families on their own.

 Here it is, only slightly adapted - 

An Extraordinary Woman: The Muse At My Shoulder (2009)

On New Year’s Eve I take a Celtic delight in the pagan celebration of the end of one year and the anticipative celebration promise of the year to come. This day also was (is?) my mother Barbara’s birthday and I think of her. She was an extraordinary woman.

Although we were (are?) very different personalities, I have inherited many things from Barbara . There is this desire to run away, expressed in the delight in travel. For her, with a family of four to bring up on her own and no resources, this was confined to books, maps and the globe of the world. Then things became just a bit easier and in her fifties she went to Denmark on her own. After that, year by year, she travelled further and further.

I was in my thirties when I started. Paris first. Then Moscow, Then different parts of America. Then Italy. Then the far East. Then New Zealand. Then Poland. Then back to France. Always France.

Being imbued with the Puritan work ethic Barbara would have approved of the fact that much of my travelling has been about the writing of novels. Evidence for this would be the working titles for some of my novels: for example, The Russian Novel (The Self Made Woman) ; the Singapore Novel (Long Journey Home); The Polish Novel (The Woman Who Drew Buildings); The London Novel (The Lavender House). Honesty’s Daughter was, for a time ‘The American Novel’. And my new novel for 2010 is The French Novel (2016 NB have written two 'French novels' An Englishwoman in France & Writing at the Maison Bleue)

Sadly, Barbara was only here on earth to read my first novel Lizza in printer’s proofs. But in all these travels - in all this writing – she has been at my shoulder.

Although it is fiction, Lizza is based on a fragile sliver of Barbara’s young life.

‘I stayed up all night reading it, love,’ she said, when she read the proofs. ‘Couldn’t stop. Do you know that foreman? Well his real name was …’

It seemed that much of my pure invention was real. Which brings me to another of my bequests from Barbara: some kind of psychic acuity. Her oldest sister was a full blown medium but Barbara herself was highly sensitive. This psychic acuity probably explains why - as I write - I hear my characters talking, see them walking. It could explain the fact that when I’ve written about a place – even a place thousands of miles away - and checked it out later, I find that it’s already there, in my drafting book.

This psychic predisposition is there as a kind of ‘sleeper’ in many of my novels, but with my new ‘French Novel’ I have come out and centred the narrative on the psychic predispositions of my character Starr and the way she relates to space and time. New departure! It’s been great to write.

I’ve benefitted from other bequests from Barbara –a love of the realities of history, a cherishing of the resonance of the spoken word, an innate story telling gene – all these would merit further stories here.

But an important bequest worth mentioning has been Barbara’s role model as a working mother with little regard for the domestic side of life. This has allowed me to write rather than dust, to make stories rather than make the bed. It has stood me in good stead all my working life and been instrumental in the production of so many novels.

However for now the greatest bequest to me is her continuing presence at my shoulder, and her pleasure through time at what has happened in my life - my new novels, my good teaching and my extraordinary family. 

Her grandson is now a very big grown-up.

Happy International Woman’s Day 2016, Barbara,  dear Mum and extraordinary muse. Much missed. 

wxx

‘Do you remember Rose?’

I was having coffee in a pub with my friend Ann, just back from her house in France. We’ve been good friends since we started teaching together decades ago - two very green optimists with a shared sense of the ridiculous.

Ann had been telling me about the Midlands-based grown-up daughter of a friend of hers who lived in France. Despite severe disability this daughter is a vibrant and interesting person who lives a full and connected life. She’d written a book about an aspect of Midlands history and had asked Ann if I would

 take a look at it and comment. I was pleased to do this. It looks like a very good piece of work and has great possibilities.

Then Ann said to me, ‘It’s like Rose, Wendy. Do you remember Rose?’

 I scrambled through the years in my mind and remembered Rose again. She too suffered from severe disability. She was tiny for her age but clever, vivacious and witty. Her home-teacher – two afternoons a week - for a year or so,. I was a young woman with small children at home and accepted this job so that I could earn some money to pay someone to clean my house so I could write.

In my years with Rose I wrote my first published book, a young adult book called Lizza, published by Hodder & Stoughton.

Visiting Rose in her two up and two down house in a side-street very much furthered my own education. Teaching her, I learned something new every day.

Rose’s mother adored her. She was the centre of the household. She was clever and witty, often talking like a forty year old, echoing her mother. She eagerly grabbed any new learning experiences I offered. She was good company

.

A joy to remember.

When Ann rushed away I stayed a while and scribbled my memories of Rose in my ever present notebook. I later copied it ‘in neat’ in my precious blue notebook.

Here it is

Remembering Rose

 

The room, with its blazing fire

is too hot. The mother hovers.

Rose sits in her chair

tough as old boots.

Her eyes sparkle, she wears

her dense black hair

swept back. Her almond skin is flawless,

her fragile hands like fern fronds.

An old head on young shoulders.

A sturdy intellect. Books galore.

Best on wheels. Uncomplaining

queen of the house.

Being twelve, looking nine,

talking like a thirty year old

Rose is an old soul

Sharing her unique world view.

Her mother says, ‘Teenagers! Our Rose

needs some new clothes.

She’s growing right out

of all that children’s stuff.'

©Wendy Robertson 2016

For more memories take a look at my book
          The Romancer: A Writer's Tale 

The Last Writing Parade with Forward Assist.

‘the sentence, the paragraph, the chapter/The journey has just begun…’

Last year the remarkable organisation Forward Assist approached Avril Joy and me

Forward Assist

with a request to run a series of creative writing workshops for military veterans – or ‘vets’ as we learned to call them. This was to be an opportunity for vets to feel empowered through  embark on or develop their  existing original writing.

So, every Wednesday the last six weeks, we ran a writing workshop for a diverse group of individuals within a wide age range and a with a wide range of experience - much of it military.

Our workshops were deliberately challenging, direct and high powered – a combination of information, exhilaration and writing, always writing.

What emerged was an impressive variety of writing – dramatic, insightful, meticulous and often surprising, This exceptional group was outstanding in terms of its  focus, determination and sense of purpose. I thought this might have had  something to do with their common military background.,Clearly for our writers the workshops  turned out to be a satisfying journey of increasing  skill and insight into the writing process and into their own imaginations.

During the six weeks each writer developed and evolved in significant terms. My heartfelt hope is that every one of these vets  will work on and hone his or her writing skills – reinforced, as we discussed by ‘reading as a writer’ – to the point of personal growth and public recognition.

So, David, Phil, Neil, Steve, Mike, Paul, Sarah and Jim, it was a joy to meet and work with you. I hope your writing proves to be a satisfying custom in your daily life and gives you and others great satisfaction in the future.

At our ‘last parade’ we had  a read –around which showcased the writers’emerging confidence and power in the possibility that their own words can express their  own diverse personalities, lives. attitudes, and imaginations in their won writing.

A very touching surprise on this last read around was Jim’s poem which very cleverly alludes to not to the people but the writing which everyone shared with with the group during these six weeks. Already an accomplished poet, Jim honoured all the group, including Avril and me, by paying tribute to our writing 

Avril and I were moved to tears.

 With Jim’s permission here is his poem.

         Chapter and Verse

The writing group, ideas shared, laid out to grow

Seeds planted in this greenhouse Palace of words, Library

And here we heard the scream of delight as the ball hit

The back of the German net and of a monster

In the quick sand known as steel fairy

And how there was disappointment in the Bigg market

In a bigger suit and then we visited a dodgy pub with

Overgrown ashtrays and the warped mirror and then

The sudden noise of explosion on the Afghan plain

Then shown the pain of a fellow being crying in the loo

Sobbing deep and loud

Then we heard the eager anticipation and roar of the

Rugby crowd

And then to Gibraltar and I missed heard I thought it was

About lap top computers but no it was a mini PC

Then came the fashion show of yellow skirt and the cat walk

A chair and now

Out on the lake silently, mute we look back and see

A sprinkle of houses and I am given the puzzle of Strider

And this was all observed from OP seventy one

So that all in the group realise, know

That the sentence, the paragraph,  the chapter

The journey has just begun.

.

(At this last meeting Avril and I were very touched to be presented with beautiful wooden pens crafted by Wooodcraft, a Vet group associated with Forward Assist..) 

Forward Assist

For Strange Eyes only: The Writing Process & Forward Assist

One aspect of  my workshops with Avril Joy – including the present six week sequence for military veterans with Forward Assist – is sharing our creativity, especially our writing.Our customary approach is to work in special separate bound notebooks.  

Our customary approach is to work in special separate bound notebooks.  The work in these notebooks is entirely private and I advise the writers to keep it so - especially from friends, lovers and relations whose appraisal will be informed by the relationship, not the work. Writing from the heart is risky and ultra-personal and paradoxically for strange eyes only.

Within the workshop writers may choose to share their immediate writing by reading it out loud.  This is an easy ask, as so much of the writing is original and accomplished. Nobody is obliged to do this, but we’ve found some people quite pleased to share. Even so, we respect writers who choose not to do so.The great advantage of sharing by reading out is that your tone of voice, your breathing and your pauses bring natural order and syntax to what - on the page -  may appear scribbly and barely readable, having  charged forward delightfully in the creative process.

So we will say to them:

‘... if you want to share your writing more widely to be read by strangers this is what you need to do:

When you have a good lump of work in your notebooks  transcribe this original writing onto a computer. In this process you  will incorporate full stops, paragraphs and punctuation as well as quite naturally making amendments to your prose. This is effectively a primary edit which will bring form and order to your splurge of ideas, narratives, memories and stories. It will make it accessible to your stranger- reader be she editor agent or other advisor.  

Laying your work out in an accessible fashion is an important part of this process. (See below for layout suggestions.)

 

It is important only to share work on the page with all this in mind. The private pages of your notebooks – hot, creative and original as they are - are for your eyes only. They are more original than if you had started your process on the screen. They are private stuff, the golden egg that will remain at the core of your long-term writing inspiration. There is no short-cut to achieving the printed version, fit to share with strangers,

There is no short-cut to achieving a final printed version, fit to share with strangers,

One good outcome is that when you finally get to the printed version of your original notebook pages is that you will read it with the eyes of a stranger-which is so very good for the self-editing process.

And this will send you back to your notebook to create further exciting, original elements to your writing, whatever form it takes/

Syntax and Layout Suggestions

Things to think about as you go on writing and editing,

·       Think about breaking over-long sentence into two while retaining the meaning.

·       New idea, new location, new story element, change of person – all these often demand a new paragraph.

·       In writing dialogue keep in mind, ‘new person, new paragraph’.

·       Don’t worry if the paragraphs are short. This creates white space on the page which allows your narrative to flow forward.

Important aspects of layout to help the reader read your document easily:

• ·       Use at least 12 point typeface. 14 point is OK.
• ·       Double line spacing,
• ·       Good margins.
• ·       Only ever use one side of the page,

        Happy writing! Wx 

Dialogue in the short story: Top Tips for Forward Assist

After our great session last with ex-military writers from the Forward Assist organisation,  I am looking forward to working alongside Avril Joy  this afternoon in our second workshop.

Today we will be focusing on how to build a character in one's fiction.  

This reminded me of a piece I wrote for my blog  about dialogue and how it works in building character. I'll be sharing it with the writers this afternoon but I thought you also might be interested in it. 

'...As I worked my short story collection called Forms of Flight  I reflected on the crossover skills between the long and short writing forms. One aspect of this reflection was the role of  dialogue in fiction.

·      Dialogue is hot and hard and it challenges the reader not just to imagine, but to hear different voices, It allows us to witness aggression, seduction, passion and anger and the nature of relationships without having to be told that this is happening. What is happening hits you in the face.·      Dialogue has its part to play on both long and short fiction. It presents very common problem for new short story writers and novelists 

Look at the following writers. What do you witness happening here?

Look at  Why Don’t You Dance? by Raymond Carver  and observe  his ability to imply risk and jeopardy through what seems like simple dialogue.

…He sat down on the sofa to watch. He lit a cigarette, looked around, flipped the match in the grass.

The girl sat on the bed. She pushed off her shoes and lay back. She thought she could see a star. ‘Come here, Jack. Try this bed. Bring one of those pillows.’ she said.

'How is it? ‘he said.

'Try it' she said.

He looked around. The house was dark. 'I feel funny,' he said.  'Better see if anyone’s home.'

She bounced on the bed. ‘Try it first,' she said...

Or look at Daphne du Maurier’s Don’t Look Now 

where she uses dialogue to set the tone of mystery, threat and personal grief near the beginning of the short story. . 

…‘They’re not old girls at all,’ she said. ‘They’re male twins in drag.’ Her voice broke ominously, the prelude to uncontrolled laughter, and John quickly poured some more Chianti into her glass.

        ‘Pretend to choke,’ he said, ’then they won’t notice. You know what it is – they’re criminals doing the sights of Europe, changing sex at each stage. Twin sisters here in Torcello. Twin brothers tomorrow in Venice, parading arm in arm across the Piazza San Marco. Just a matter of switching roles and wigs.’

         ‘Jewel thieves or murderers?’ asked Laura

          ‘Oh murderers definitely. But why, I ask myself, have they picked on me?’

           The waiter made a diversion by bringing coffee and bearing away the fruit, which gave Laura time to banish hysteria and regain control. …

In my story Sharpening Pencils I use dialogue to show the uncomfortable contact between a shy girl and her equally shy tutor. I think.

...The girl stood back from the painting and surveyed it. Mrs Forrest came to stand beside her. She said. ‘I do like the way you manage to convey both humanity and abstraction, Miss Wintersgill. You hold onto the intimate relationship while making the meaning universal.’

The girl undid and redid her ponytail, filling the air again with the smell of turpentine. Mrs Forrest contemplated the thought of turpentine infusing the curly tumbling hair. Then she said. ‘I can indeed draw quite well. They told me so at the Slade, many years ago.’

‘You were at the Slade?’ 

Mrs Forrest laughed. ‘So I was. As I say, it was many years ago. I worked alongside people who now are what thy call household names.’

The girl coughed. ‘It must have been hard work there.’

Mrs Forrest noticed the accent for the first time. Somewhere from the West perhaps. She lifted her shoulders and sighed. ‘For the first year all I did, dear, was sharpen pencils, clear workspaces. I did draw at night. That eventually earned me my place. My night drawing earned me a place there.’ She paused. ‘Not that I was very good.’

‘It’s hard to think of you just sharpening pencils, Mrs Forrest.’

Mrs Forrest smiled showing discoloured teeth. ‘Of course I watched what they did and in my little room at night I tried it all out myself.’ She looked around. ‘Just as, perhaps, you do here, Miss Wintersgill, in the dark of night. But then you are so much more original.’ She backed away then, fading out of the room and closing the heavy door behind her with a click. Outside she untied Koppy and let him run through the darkened parkland around the house, barking now and then when he scented prey... 

And in this story, The Little Bee,  I have tried  to show the world of a little girl observing the complex and ambiguous world around her. Clearly here I am unable to resist contextualising the dialogue in the larger narrative. But perhaps there is room for that in the wide world of the short story, I hope so.

... Amalie put a hand on my shoulder and I stood up before her. ‘And your Mama was very beautiful, ma p’tite. I knew about that. Hadn’t I been her dresser in the Theatre de Varietés? The sheer beauty of your mama drew great applause.’

My father giggled then. ‘But unfortunately she could never remember a line. Not a single line. The manager who had been intoxicated with her became embarrassed and employed beauties with more brain and better memories. Her friend Josephine was one of these.’

Amalie suddenly scowled at him. ‘But after all when you met her, Monsieur, you fell in love.’

He sighed very deeply. ‘So I did, Amalie. So I did.’ And with this he laid his head on the stout oak table and fell asleep, snoring and snuffling within minutes.

My gaze met Amalie’s and - both embarrassed and amused - we started to laugh. She hugged me tight and I could smell the meat and garlic on her. And my father’s fruity cigarettes. Still laughing, I helped Amalie to trundle the trolley through to the dark back places of the house, where her two nieces, who couldn’t speak French at all, washed the pots and dishes and cleared the kitchen for the following day.

As always you should make your own judgement about what would work for you.

And have a go at these practices:

…

- Abstract some dialogue from an existing short story – separate it on a page – and decide what you are doing here. Can you cut it back to just what is spoken? Can you implant more meaning, enhance the tone, and expose the difference in the way people speak by what they say?

- Take a one line encounter from your story  and render it into dialogue which gives us more of the different lives of the speakers without telling us facts.

- Take an overheard fragment of the conversation of strangers  and create a whole incident though invented dialogue

 ...'

Get

Happy writing!
wxx 

From My Blue Notebook: The Danish Girl, Adam and Eve and the psychology of Gender.

 Having been in deep hibernation-mode for the last month I feel I must be waking up, as I am sitting here writing my first post for  a whole month. Perhaps it was yesterday morning’s battle to reduce our brilliant tree into branches and overflowing carrier bags that cleared the air for me.

Halleyluya for 2016. That’s what I say!

Lester Ralph's illustration  for the fist volume edition
of  Mark Twain's Eve's Diary 

One Christmas treat for me was a trip to the movies to see the currently trendy Danish Girl. Since then, in this house the subject of the complexities and ambiguities of gender identity has joined in with - cooking-with-deep-flavour, the scientific Periodic Table,  the Labour-non shuffle, the flooding of Great Britain and the Christmas  council’s cock-up of the collection of the black and green bins - as a recurring subject of conversation. I suppose  all this is about being a woman.  

Speaking of which, looking through my Blue Notebook on

The Blue Notebook

New Year’s Day, I came across notes I made when re-reading my favourite very-wise Ursula le Guin talking about Mark Twain’s witty take on the legend of Adam and Eve.

Le Guin, in her beautifully written evaluation, reveals the elements in Mark Twain’s tale that has resonances in our lives today and our concerns regarding the gender roles.

Ursula comments: ‘(in Mark Twain’s Tale ).. It is not

Adam’s superior psychology of brains or brawn but his blockish stupidity. He does not notice, does not listen. Is uninterested, indifferent, dumb. He will not relate to her, she must relate herself in words and actions to him and relate him to the rest of Eden. He is entirely satisfied with himself as he is; she must adapt her ways to him. He is immovably fixed at the centre of his own attention. To stay with him she must agree to be peripheral to him, contingent, secondary. The degree of social and psychological truth in the picture of life in Eden is pretty considerable...’

The Danish Girl is brilliantly acted and beautifully shot and takes a sensitive and nuanced approach on the tragic, true story on which it is based.  

Later, as I watched the press and on the screen the hard-line opinions of proponents and opponents of the transgender agenda my mind leapt back to Ursula’s conclusions about about Adam and Eve.  He is entirely satisfied with himself as he is; she must adapt her ways to him. He is immovably fixed at the centre of his own attention.

Interestingly we would need a new pronoun to make this statement apply to one rather beautiful, highly articulate transgender person (who objected to being certificated at her birth as a girl) sitting there in the studio.

Ursula, I think, would have smiled, alongside Mark Twain.

The Book

To read, perhaps?

The Wave in the Mind by Ursula K Le Guin (2004)
The Diaries of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain 
New Edition 2015
The Danish Girl by David Ebershoff

   

And the Film