I usually get up early. I live in New Mexico where the sun is very bright, and the mornings are a marvel. For breakfast I eat shredded wheat. My father was from Mauritius, a British colony, and we travelled to England and Ireland when I was a kid. That's when I started eating shredded wheat for breakfast because in the hotels where we stayed, it was either that or cornflakes, which I don't like. e of her day, and tells me about my daughter, Amy, who is doing her MA in medieval history. At the moment I'm working on a novel called Coeur Brulee (When the Heart Burns). It is named after a Creole saying we have in Mauritius: "When the mountain is burning, everyone knows; but who knows when the heart is burning."
In Coeur Brulee I am trying to mix two stories. One is about Pervenche, a girl who disappears from her family. The other is about her mother, Helene, who tries to understand why. Helene remembers a time when she was living in Mexico, and she had a young girl working for her called Chita, who also ran away.
I'm trying to weave together these different threads. Some days I don't write at all. Others I write all day. I have no obligation to do it. Sometimes the publisher tries to pressurise me and I feel guilty, and then I don't write. I like my freedom.
Yesterday I wrote for three hours in the morning. In the afternoon I went to the library and did some research on poetry about oases. Deserts and the people who live in them have been a major preoccupation of my life.
Then I decided I would go and buy a jacket for my trip to Ireland. Because jackets are so expensive and I like thrift stores so much, I went to a thrift store where I found two jackets for about $15. I couldn't decide between them so I'll go back later. On the way home, I met a girl, about the same age as my daughter. She was pretty but dirty, carrying a child with bright black eyes. She asked me for money because she said she had run out of gas for her car. It made me think of Pervenche, my character who has run away, and I asked myself if Pervenche would have to beg for money, too. I find this happens - I write and something materialises and then I have to change all my plans.
I get back pain from sitting and typing for hours. I take a drug called Orphenadrine from the doctor for the pain. It is supposed to relax the muscles but it makes me nervous. When I went home yesterday I tried to write but the Orphenadrine made me shaky, so I went to sleep for a while. The moon rose at 7.30 p.m. above the Rio Grande in the shape of a Turkish flag, with a thin crescent. But the sky was so bright I could see the whole moon. It was very beautiful.
My father, although he came from Mauritius, was always very proud of his family's Breton origins. Part of the Breton tradition in the family is to make soup. So last night I made soup, a thick vegetable soup, with carrots, squash and turnips. Still unable to write, I went to the Hastings Book Store, where I bought Dubliners for $1. I bought Jack Kerouac's On the Road, which I haven't read since I was seventeen. And I bought The Tempest and Macbeth. I like Shakespeare. The only quotes I can remember are his. Before going to bed last night I went and looked up at the stars through the telescope my daughter gave me. The stars are very bright in New Mexico. I could see Jupiter with two satellites, delicate and bright, like a king with his two jesters.
In conversation with Katie Donovan.
Jean Marie Le Clezio will read from his work at Etonnants Voyageurs, the Franco- Irish Book Festival, which starts in Dublin on Friday and continues throughout Saturday in Dublin. Details from the Alliance Francaise, Dublin: 01- 6761732. His most recent book Hasard Angoli Mala is published by Gallimard (nrs).