An Interview with Emma van Straaten

I’d compare Alice to infamous characters like Amy Dunne, Tom Ripley, and Joe Goldberg. Was there any particular inspiration for creating such a volatile protagonist?

What flattering comparisons! I love all of those characters. But for me, Alice’s volatility lies in her bodily experience of living as a woman. When I first read Eileen by Otessa Moshfegh I was struck by how singularly unpleasant her protagonist was, how disgusting I found her, with her bodily functions and awful thoughts. I found it so refreshing how this character was unapologetically unlikable, and felt that, in a way, it gave me permission to create my own.

In This Immaculate Body, we are disturbingly immersed into Alice’s mind: if you could step into the mind of any fictional character, who would it be? 

I’m torn between wanting to truly understand the quieter or less knowable characters and keeping the mystery alive. Bertha Mason, from Jane Eyre, which has already been beautifully explored in Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea, would be fascinating.

Self-loathing and the deterioration of mental health are key themes throughout the novel. How important was it for you to humanize Alice in this way?

I never wanted Alice to alienate the reader entirely or become a pantomime villain. Yes, not everyone would act in the way she chooses to, but I wanted people to, even if they didn’t recognize themselves in her, to recognize her humanity. Sadly, the self-loathing is what most readers (all women, of course!) have let me know they identified with most strongly, so I think I was on the money there. I included her friendship (if it can be called that) with Mr. M as another, less toxic, way of doing this.

How important was it for Alice to be a half-South Asian woman and an ethnic minority? Did you want her identity to shape the story in any significant way?

It’s funny; I hadn’t particularly thought about her ethnicity until I realized experiences from my own life as a mixed-race woman growing up in an overwhelmingly white environment were bleeding from me into the manuscript. I thought it would add another layer of slipperiness to her character, the fact she never reveals her exact ethnicity (try as people might to guess!), which adds to that feeling of otherness and inferiority.

You’ve mentioned the contents of This Immaculate Body have been “toned down.” Were there any scenes you fought to keep, but had to cut as they were considered too “graphic?”

It was less about them being graphic—bloody or visceral—and more to do with the hatred and self-loathing Alice directed at other people, including herself. That was toned down as my team found it too oppressive. There was initially much more swearing as well (in terms of what Alice called herself), which my editor (rightly!) suggested I tone down to make the expletives that do remain, more powerful.

“Fem-gore” is a rising literary movement, which subverts traditional horror as it centers women’s experiences. What drew you to explore this theme in This Immaculate Body and how do you see it evolving in the coming years?

I find it interesting so many books falling under the fem-gore umbrella are coming out now, many of which had their beginnings in lockdown. For all its horror and uncertainty, I think lockdown enabled an artistic flourishing. It was a time of stasis, prompting many people to consider their priorities, and, in some cases, to focus on novels they previously hadn’t had time to write. I think when there is a time of forced insularity, reflection follows. Perhaps many women were able to consider their place in the world, feel things about it (anger, frustration, impatience) and write about it. I’m excited to see where fem-gore goes; although I do predict a backlash against the “unhinged woman,” a trope I love.

Did you have any alternative endings or were you always planning on justice prevailing?

I love the way you’ve described that: justice prevailing! Yes, I always planned for the overall thrust of the ending —what physically happens to Alice. But Alice’s thought process in the final scene (I’m trying not to give spoilers) went through several iterations until I found the one that felt truest to Alice.

You’ve written an extremely intense and—I mean this in the best way possible—disturbing novel. Would you want to keep this momentum going with your next novel, or do you plan on pivoting in a different direction?

I always think I will be drawn to elements of the disturbing. I particularly think trying to draw out the disturbing thoughts we have is interesting. But I am certainly pivoting with my second novel; it is, I hope, partly set in the late fourteenth century, so I am deep in research mode.

What debut novel are you looking forward to reading this year?

So many! One of the unexpected pleasures of being a debut novelist is making the acquaintance of so many others going through the same journey, and I have the rare feeling that my finger is particularly on the pulse! I’m particularly looking forward to The Hounding by Xenobe Purvis and That Time Everything Was On Fire by Kerry Downes.

What advice would you give authors who are planning on tackling these unconventional themes within their work, but are afraid of how their work will be received?

You have to forget your readers, for a while. Write what it is you want to write, write what you have wanted to read. Your readers—and the moment of “oh goodness, my mother-in-law is going to read this, my boss will possibly read this” can come later, once the damage is done!