The book I am currently reading
I read about six or seven books at once. I seem to have the ability to keep different strands of narrative afloat and untangled in my mind. Sometimes I feel disappointed by things, or am simply not in the mood, so I put them down and then return after a brief sulk. At the moment I’m rereading Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore and A Blue Fire by James Hillman. They’re archetypal psychologists. I’m fairly new to this stuff and am thoroughly beguiled by it.
The book that changed my life
When I was a kid living in Johannesburg in the late 1970s, I saw a weird poster all over town with the face of a screaming man on it. The poster was for a production of Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis – adapted by Steven Berkoff. I felt an incredible longing to see this play and my mother bought tickets for my birthday. I can’t even begin to recount the impression this story had on me; first as a play, then on the page. The shadow Kafka casts over my creative life is so all-encompassing that I rarely even notice it’s there.
The book I wish I’d written
Whenever I’m asked this question I always answer The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Although I once borrowed a copy of The Bridges of Madison County (Robert James Waller) from my grandmother and felt a bittersweet pang that I’d never have the ability to create something so pristine and so extraordinary.
The book that had the greatest influence on me
In my late teens I read Henry James’s The Portrait of a Lady. I found it tortuous and difficult – the inhospitable sentences drove me crazy. But then there was a particular moment when I felt overwhelmed by an immense wave of emotion and began sobbing uncontrollably. Nothing in particular had set it off. It was simply cumulative – almost as much about what wasn’t there as what was. This is probably the moment when my urge to describe/understand the indescribable began. My life-long flirtation with ideas of space and transcendence.
The last book that made me cry
I am always immensely moved by the poetry of Adélia Prado. Her pen and her soul are at perpetual war with her life and her faith. But the things she rails against are the things she loves most. I rarely read her without the odd sniff.
The last book that made me laugh
David McKee’s Not Now, Bernard. It’s outrageous but profound and never fails to raise a smile.
The book I couldn’t finish
I don’t often finish books. I’m a promiscuous reader and I get bored easily. It would be more remarkable to list the books I have finished. So, I did finish Ali Smith’s Spring. I wish I had Ali’s intellectual breadth, her immense generosity, her incredible control.
The book I think is most overrated
Robert Elsmere by Mrs Humphry Ward (or Mary Augusta Ward) has been both overrated and underrated. It sold millions when it was first published in the late 19th century but is little read today. Mrs Ward was a co-founder of the anti-suffrage movement and devoutly religious so there’s nothing remotely saleable about her in the modern context. But it’s wonderful book.
The book that changed my mind
The Life of St Teresa of Avila. I read an old, yellowed paperback of this little autobiography about 10 years ago and it fostered a powerful, inexplicable urge in me to take holy communion. This urge ran counter to everything I thought I believed and loved and wanted and felt. It was painful and inconvenient and infuriating.
The book I’m ashamed not to have read
This list could go on forever. Although I don’t generally feel intellectual shame. Wisdom isn’t simply about being well read.
The book I give as a gift
Stefan Zweig’s novel Beware of Pity. It turns everything you think you believe about compassion on its head.
My comfort read
Always Dickens’s Bleak House.
• I Am Sovereign by Nicola Barker is published by William Heinemann (RRP £12.99). To order a copy go to guardianbookshop.com. Free UK p&p on all online orders over £15.
