![]() Those who have seen her speak or read her work can testify that hers is a voice worth hearing – and has been, for years. Since 2011, and the publication of the Booker-shortlisted Swimming Home, Deborah Levy’s voice has boomed loud and clear across the dreary plains of literary Britain. Her father, a member of the African National Congress (ANC), was jailed when she was 5, and, little by little, she went quiet, losing her voice, only to find it again as a teenager, tentatively taking her first steps as a writer in the greasy spoons of West Finchley. ![]() ![]() Interview with Deborah Levy ‘TO BECOME A WRITER, I had to learn to interrupt, to speak up, to speak a little louder, and then louder, and then to speak in my own voice which is not loud at all,’ writes Deborah Levy, in her 2013 essay Things I Don’t Want To Know, recounting her childhood in South Africa for the first time. ![]()
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