Q&A with Sam Nartus Fois

In “Padria,” Sam Nartus Fois gives us a firm reminder of the ways in which memory and self are indelibly connected to place. We loved this piece, and are very excited to share an interview between Fois and a Wild Umbrella fiction editor, Mina El Attar.

I love reading fiction that orients you in another place, previously unknown. Do you find yourself to be inspired more by places or by people in your stories? Has Padria been revisited in any of your other work?

I am definitely inspired by both, for different reasons. I love to write about human fears and realities, and a lot of my stories revolve around this. But at the same time, those fears and realities are often environmental: I look at things like illness, climate change, politics, queerness… To me these things can’t be separated from someone’s environment, even if they relate to the human condition. I think in my personal life I am absolutely more attached to places than people, or at least, I remember my loved ones through the places we have been together. I am moved by the visuals, scents, and sounds of a place, whether that’s a city, a small town, a school, a workplace, a bedroom. Any place I have spent a lot of time in is like a friend to me. 

Padria has not been revisited in any of my work yet. I would love to write about it more, although I imagine it more in the form of non-fiction now. I can see myself setting more stories in Sardinia, though. 

Is there a piece of fiction (or maybe more than one) that inspired you or led to the creation of this story?

I don’t think there is one piece of fiction that led to Padria. When I first started writing it as a narrative essay, or a reflection of my childhood. It was later that I changed some details that turned it into a fictional piece, although most of it is still true to life. Some non-fiction books I read that inspired the style and the themes of this. The first is ‘La Place’ by Annie Ernaux, which reflects on her father’s life and death. I love her style and the simplicity of her writing in a way that makes it moving, vivid and relatable. I really wanted to channel something like this. Last year, I also read a collection of Antonio Gramsci’s letters, articles and essays ‘Scritti sulla Sardegna’ which compiles all his known writing on Sardinia. I bought the book a couple of years ago in his hometown of Ghilarza. This inspired the political dimension of the piece and the character’s passionate (and perhaps slightly misguided) attachment to tradition and their resentment towards continental Italy. 

How did you make the choice to draw attention to the television show 'Braccio di Ferro' in the first third-or-so of your story? How does that detail impact the narrative?

I grew up in France to a half Sardinian family. Unlike the character, I didn’t grow up speaking Sardinian (or Italian), but experienced a similar language barrier when I visited Sardinia. I would often watch ‘Braccio di Ferro’ (which is just the Italian name for Popeye) on holiday and have come to strictly associate it with Padria. It would be exactly the way I’ve written it in the story, on a tiny, ancient TV in the corner of the kitchen in the house my grandfather grew up in. Including it felt obligatory, and I got to revisit the cartoon while writing (the particular episode is one I found recently rather than a vivid memory from that time). I think Braccio di Ferro illustrates a form of respite: when a child doesn’t understand the other children around them, when they grow up feeling inadequate and sheltered, this colourful and expressive cartoon is a way out. There is no need for language, everything they need to understand can be expressed through image and sound. 

What did you learn from writing this piece? Is there anything in particular, whether in form or style, that you'd like to take with you into future writing?

This was the first original short fiction piece I ever finished. It is also my first piece that is so crucially embedded in one place, and I found the process moving to me. It has motivated me to write about other places that are important to me, and I hope to take that into my future writing. Before this, I was afraid that bringing my personal life into my writing to such an extent would produce a boring result, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. It has definitely encouraged me to write about whatever I want, and that I don’t have to embellish everything. Sometimes simple is best, or at least it was for this story.