Lawrence Hill's acceptance speech
Remarks by Lawrence Hill
Accepting 2008 the Commonwealth Writers' Prize, 
Best Book, Franschhoek Literary Festival, South Africa
18May 2008
Thank you, Minister Pallo Jordan.
Here in Franschhoek, I've been staying at a lovely hotel called Le Quartier Français. Outside my bedroom window is a tree, chock full of oranges. I simply had to pick one today, and I'm going to tell you why.
In my childhood, my American parents – black father, white mother who had fled the United States the day after they married in the South in 1953 – ruled that three foods were off limits to my siblings and me. We were not allowed to consume Aunt Jemima syrup, because of its degrading racial stereotype. For a time, we were not allowed to consume California grapes, because my mother deemed that we had to support a strike being led by Mexican fruit workers who had been toiling in unfair conditions on California farms. And finally, as I grew up during the era of Apartheid, we were not allowed to consume South African oranges.
I have to tell you how thrilled I am to see how times have changed. My mother is 80 and she now consents to my eating South African oranges. It was great to pick one from the tree today, and it is my great honour to be here in South Africa, and to be welcomed here so warmly on this, my second visit in a few years.
I wish to extend warmest thanks to the Commonwealth Foundation and the Macquarie Group Foundation for bringing all eight nominated writers to the attention of readers worldwide, and of course for bringing us to South Africa. Thanks as well to the Franschhoek Literary Festival – including Christopher Hope, Jenny Hobbs and all of your colleagues – for bringing us to South African audiences, and for bringing South African audiences to us.
It has been my pleasure to travel with five other wonderful writers on this weeklong tour in Johannesburg, Cape Town and Franschhoek. I wish to acknowledge Sade Adeniran, CS Richardson and Tahmima Anam, as well as Karen King-Aribisala and Steven Carroll – all of whom I've come to know during this intense tour. To all the writers, I wish you much productivity and future accolades. And to Tahmima Anam, who has become a friend over the last week, my heartfelt congratulations. I am as happy for you as I am for me. Thank you as well to the fabulous team from the Commonwealth Foundation – Mark Collins, Andrew Firmin, Jennifer Sobol and Nicky Stubbs and all of their colleagues.
Finally, I want to thank the judges for devoting countless hours to reading hundreds of books, selecting two shortlists, and finally choosing Tahmima Anam in the best first book category and me in the best book category. To Chief Judge Nicholas Hasluck of Australia, South African Judge Pumla Dineo Gqola, and judges Professor Arthur Bakwandi of Uganda, Dr Michael Bucknor of Jamaica, Professor Makarand Paranjape of India, and Dr Christine Prentice of New Zealand, I have to say that there is no greater honour than to be recognized by one's international peers. Thank you for your hard work, for your commitment to literature, for your uplifting company over the last week that we have spent together in South Africa, and for honouring all the nominated writers with your dedication, professionalism and decency.
The Book of Negroes dramatizes the all but forgotten story of eighteenth century Africans forced into slavery in the Americas, liberated after many years and returned to the mother continent in the same lifetime. It was both intimidating and exhilarating to write the novel in the voice of an eighteenth century African woman, Aminata Diallo. I thought of her as my own daughter and gave her the name of my eldest child, in order to love her sufficiently to lift her off the page.
As a Canadian novelist, with the usual challenges faced by writers in small markets, it is thrilling to receive the prize and the opportunities that it presents. I thank the Commonwealth Foundation and the Macquarie Group Foundation for celebrating literature and literacy so vigorously in 53 countries worldwide.
Near the end of her long and storied life, Aminata finds herself in London, fighting for the abolition of the British slave trade. She longs to meet King George III and Queen Charlotte, in order to drill home the necessity to end slavery. Aminata finally finds an audience with the Queen, and now, thanks to the jury and this Commonwealth Writers' Prize, I too am going to meet the Queen. I hope to go with as much grace and dignity as did Aminata some 200 years ago.
I have one final set of thanks to give, and that is to my father, Daniel G Hill, who passed away in 2003 and who inspired me to begin writing in the first place.
As an African – American immigrant to Canada, he was obsessed by the notion that his children had to transcend the worst of the injustices he had faced growing up in the United States. He wanted to insulate us from trouble by driving us toward educational success and professional achievement. Before we could walk, it seems, he was telling us that we were to become doctors, lawyers and engineers. After all, what self-respecting immigrant wants his or her child to become a novelist? So when I was six, and one of my friends had a cat with a fresh litter of kittens, I asked my father if I could take one home. My father, who was an inveterate pet hater, said no. I asked a second time, and he refused me. I asked a third time, and he said no. But then he added, “Larry, if you really want that pet, go up to your bedroom and write me a letter and tell me why you deserve to have that cat, whose allowance is going to pay for its cat food, and how you are going to prevent it from having babies in the closet. If you can provide me a well-written letter with no spelling mistakes, I'll give your request due consideration."
I went up to my bedroom full of purpose, and wrote that letter with absolute conviction. I wanted that cat. Had to have it. So I poured my heart and soul onto that page. Wisely, he let me have the cat. And from that point on, every time I wanted something else from my father, he made me write another letter for it. And this is how I became a writer at the age of six.
Thanks, Dad. And thanks to all of you.
