Annabel Lyon explores the many meanings of consent in her latest novel
This interview originally aired on Oct. 3, 2020.
Annabel Lyon is a writer from Vancouver. Her novel The Golden Mean won the Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, was shortlisted for the Scotiabank Giller Prize and the Governor General's Literary Award for fiction when it came out in 2009.
Her latest is the novel Consent, which was longlisted for both the 2020 Scotiabank Giller Prize and the 2021 Women's Prize for Fiction.
Consent is about two sets of sisters: Sara and Mattie, and Saskia and Jenny. Sara becomes Mattie's caregiver after their mother dies. Saskia and Jenny are twins — Saskia is quiet and bookish and Jenny is outgoing. The four women's lives come together unexpectedly when tragedy strikes.
Lyon spoke with Shelagh Rogers about writing Consent.
A twist on things
"This novel began, way back in 2004, when a lawyer acquaintance of mine told me about a case. It was about a young woman with a mental disability who had gotten married without her family's knowledge or consent to a man who was basically after the family money. It was quite a wealthy family. The family, very unhappily and regretfully, had to go before a judge and have her declared incompetent and have the marriage annulled on those grounds.
When we're dealing with family members, we can be forced into roles of caregivers. It's harder to say no. It can be a loving and a wonderful thing. But it can also be a burden that is really, really hard to talk about.
"But I'm not a black-and-white person — I'm a 'shades of grey' person. I didn't want it just to be a man who was after the family money. Certainly he appreciated the family money, but he was also very kind to her and he took care of her and he seemed to be interested in the marriage on its own terms.
"I played with that. I was never really happy with how it ended. I kept picking away and picking away and picking away. It turned into a great big 'scab' of a novel."
Inspired by a literary classic
"The other piece of the story came from Crime and Punishment of all places. The initial crime in that novel is where we have the character, Raskolnikov, who decides on very moralistic, utilitarian grounds that he's going to murder this evil moneylender who's making so many people's lives miserable.
"But when he goes to do that, he realizes that she actually lives with a mentally handicapped sister who is a witness. He's forced into killing her to try and protect himself. He's haunted by this. He goes back to them again and again and again.
"I thought, 'What if someone were to tell that story from the point of view of the moneylender? To tell it from the point of view of the sisters and not the man?'"
Sibling ties
"Exploring the bond between sisters came from an interest in the idea of caregiving — and how consent and caregiving can intersect. In the #MeToo era, we think of consent now as being very much about sexual consent.
"But it can be about something else. When we're dealing with family members, we can be forced into roles of caregivers. It's harder to say no. It can be a loving and a wonderful thing. But it can also be a burden that is really, really hard to talk about. It's a bit of a taboo to say, 'I have been put into a position of caregiving and I don't know if I'm comfortable with it.'"
A fun time writing a 'dark' novel
"I had some fun writing this novel — even though often the first thing people say after they've read Consent, is, 'Wow, that's dark.'
"It's like, 'No, actually I had a lot of fun with it.' The two parallel storylines came from very different places and in many ways contrast to each other quite a bit. But in constructing them, I did have a lot of dorky, writerly fun.
We've got somebody in a coma, we've got twins, we've got sexual violence, but it's turned upside down.
"For instance, in the story of Saskia and Jenny, I wanted to try writing a thriller. I wanted to try subverting a lot of thriller tropes. We've got somebody in a coma, we've got twins, we've got sexual violence, but it's turned upside down."
"I had a lot of fun doing that, I have to say."
Annabel Lyon's comments have been edited for length and clarity.
