Publishing a (non-German) Book, if You Live in Berlin
Valentina Risaliti is a journalist, a producer, a friend. She is also an exceptional artist whose voice has recently received the recognition it deserves in her debut novel Requiem per Ofelia (2020, Giovane Holden Edizioni). Born and raised in Italy, Valentina has lived abroad for many years in Spain, France and Germany. Her book is a dream, a journey through the decade she has just closed by turning 30: a journey many of us can empathise with and through which we can all hopefully heal, as the author did. Writing as a cure is what WWBL is all about.
With an eclectic and feminist portfolio like Valentina’s, we thought it’d be interesting to sit down with her and chat about her book, her approach to writing and her overall experience as a woman writing in Berlin whose native language isn’t German nor English.
Photo Credits to Simone Lezzi
Interview with Valentina Luna Risaliti
In your book the main character Ofelia, despite her perpetual travelling, starts in a place of immobility. What place makes you feel more at home and where do you belong
Just like my character, I belong to that generation that struggles to put down roots in one place. Hence, the themes of eternal exile, that condition that ends up defining the existence of those who - either out of thirst for knowledge, ambition, necessity or boredom - experience the drive to expatriate as a categorical imperative. The downside of this inclination to migration - which is fair to say is often imposed rather than personally desired - is that in the long run you no longer feel at home anywhere. Or rather: every place is (and isn’t) your home at the same time. Every place looks like and differs from you. In every new place you feel nostalgic for the old one. Those-who-migrate change at an incredibly fast pace and develop their very own “language”. The good news, at least in my experience, is that the concept of home expands and manages to include every place and everything within. But above all, at one point, home starts being defined by our loved ones, by those who are capable of giving to us a sense of familiarity while we experience the world.
In one of her many encounters, Ofelia is told that Paris allows oneself to be lost in the crowd and that in this invisibility is freedom. Do you agree with this statement and is Berlin working in the same way for you?
Yes, I believe that large cities are capable to grant the privilege of anonymity and that this privilege is something to experience at least once in a lifetime. In fact, anonymity gives the opportunity to discover oneself in the absence of external judgment. In big cities one can find anything, everyone is different and we often end up not feeling special at all. Although at first glance this condition may seem undesirable, there is actually something extremely liberating about anonymity. It is, I believe, the best possible playground. Of course, anonymity can damage the person in the long run, it can distance us from others, lead to alienation, but I believe that a small dose taken at the right time can function as the first step on an emancipating path destined to success. Or at least it worked for me…
Ofelia wants to escape an “ordinary life”, that’s why she started travelling in the first place. Even retracing her steps back home only makes her realise how necessary the journey was. In a globalised world, does it still make sense to view crossing national borders as something glamorous or is it more a necessary evil?
There is no “one size fits all” answer to this question. I would say that the choice to relocate can be triggered by different motivations and many external factors. While for some it may be an obligation imposed by financial needs, for others it is an extravagant one-time wish if not a way of living altogether. And yet again, while some migrate because of war, some others do it to study. The possibilities are endless. In my case, for example, the factors that played a role were different: partially it was my insatiable curiosity, a big part was certainly my job and another part – today I am finally willing to admit it – was my need for a get-away. Whatever the reason behind the choice, it always takes guts to leave (and to stay). And that’s a fact.
At some point Ofelia accepts that she needs to stop in order to not “commit extremely stupid acts”. She will later in the book admit to be tired of striving to become the woman she wants to be and not the one that she actually is and allows herself to be transported by the events of her life. Have you stopped in Berlin for this reason? How does living in Berlin affect your creative process?
To me, Berlin was precisely that playground I mentioned earlier: a place that gave me the chance to experiment as much as possible and, above all, a dimension in which I’ve explored my creativity. And yet, Berlin has also been a place of unprecedented stasis. In recent years, I had the feeling of being more still than usual, almost as if I had become a cautious observer of my internal processes. Here I have learned the art of stopping, of respecting my natural rhythms. Berlin is a metropolis, so my statement may sound a bit paradoxical, but those who have deeply experienced this city know that it can be a very peaceful place, a place where to find clarity and to listen to oneself ...
According to non-western authors, like Intan Paramaditha, there is a lot of politics and privileges involved with the idea of a jet-setter life. Do you see any difference between expats and migrants and how does having traveled so much make you feel?
Of course, there is a huge difference. It goes without saying, that traveling for leisure or for necessity are two very different things. These are phenomena characterized by many grayscales: a manichaeistic approach to the issue is misleading. Even two individuals of the same nationality can migrate for different reasons: my country, Italy, is a classic example. I know many Italian migrants who have been forced to migrate for economic reasons and who perhaps have a family at home, to whom they send money from time to time. And then I know Italians who travel for study, pleasure or for better career opportunities. It is troublesome to think that these migratory flows maintain a certain degree of separation (t/n. between migrants and expats): one is under the impression that there are A-class and B-class travellers. With that being the case, unfortunately, the road to equality is still long and winding.
Does the coexistence of multiple languages in your daily life influence your writing? How would writing in a language that is not your mother-tongue affect your creativity?
The answer is "very much so"! A few days ago, I read some pieces that I wrote when I was twenty years old and I was amazed at the specificity of the terms used. Although living surrounded by foreign languages and cultures enriches my style and my creative process on many levels, speaking many languages is often confusing, especially for writers. This is why I mostly read in my native language, Italian, so as not to lose the habit of specificity, that is the habit of calling everything by its right name. Writing in another language is certainly an interesting process, although I often realize that I am changing entire features of my personality simply by changing the language. It is certainly something that I would like to explore more in the future.
Ofelia seems to be affected by the same sickness many women face: the desire to prove oneself beyond one’s own happiness. Do you believe men and women experience the same level of stress when striving to accomplish their dreams?
I believe that the aspect of Ofelia's path mentioned is a trait common to many, independently from their gender. However, I believe that due to cultural heritage, social impositions and cultural processes, the approach of women and men to the question may differ (obviously without falling into excessive and unnecessary generalizations, since the experience of the individual always differs precisely because of one's individuality).
Generally speaking, women are educated to doubt themselves more than men and in fact they are often more reluctant to invent a profession. They are taught to evaluate their worth according to - often misleading - canons, both on a personal and a professional level. Women - statistics show - are given fewer opportunities in some sectors or responsibility roles. Women are often paid less. And that's only if we take into consideration the work industry. On an existential level the question is much thornier and the issue deserves an interview of its own.
Why are you a feminist? Can you define in your own words what do feminism and intersectional feminism mean?
I am a feminist because I am against sexism, that is, the practice of systematic discrimination based on the assigned sex. A practice that not only damages women, but everyone and, yes, indiscriminately. It really is that simple.
How do sentences like “men can be feminist” and “men are all trash” make you feel?
I believe we should all be feminists. Statements that start from the assumption that men are exempt from a discourse on feminism precisely because they are men, as well as offensive statements towards them, make me feel simply uncomfortable.
What place do you see transwomen playing in the fight for gender equality?
As I said, I believe feminism is and must be everyone's concern. Trying to fight a discriminatory bias by discriminating a group of activists is per-se a contradiction. Unfortunately, I have often heard some feminists discriminate against trans women, claiming that they were not, and I quote, "real women". This attitude hurts me and hurts the movement. Period. Trans women are as fundamental in this battle as everyone else and above all they are women in all respects. They should not feel discriminated against in a community that vows to protect them, protect their interests, help them in the transition. I find it very unfair.
You can buy Requiem per Ofelia everywhere books are sold.
120 pages
ISBN-10 : 8832926741
ISBN-13 : 978-8832926743
Publisher: Giovane Holden Edizioni (15 May 2020)
Language: : Italian
A novel on the (tarot) cards
Hailing from a family of witches, Valentina learned tarot reading as a child and has been practicing it ever since. Hardly a surprise, then, that she fell back on this ancient tradition as inspiration for her debut novel. And she wouldn't be the first: tarot readings are an old standby for artists who need rejuvenation during a stagnant period, or for trauma survivors who are looking to process, heal from, and rise above their experiences.
Valentina is quick to point out that she does not use the cards to foresee the future, but rather to interrogate herself and her deeper motivations. With their aid, she engages in automatic writing, an uninterrupted exercise designed to help the writer probe her own subconscious. “It’s pure Jung!” she enthuses.
In tarot readings, one spreads the cards in a row to form a mandala. During the gestation of her novel, Valentina would do the same before beginning a session of automatic writing. Consequently, each chapter is associated with an arcana, as may be obvious to fellow witches. Apart from the findings of famous psychoanalysts—and among many other influences—Valentina’s work responds to David Lynch’s catalogue, which is rife with subconscious images.
A true Renaissance woman
As if writing and publishing a book were not enough, Valentina also hosts her own history podcast, Pioniere – Donne che lo hanno fatto per prime, launched this past April. Her original storytelling and perspectives on female figures often ignored by society will captivate you for hours on end. Not an Italian speaker? Not a problem!
WWBL is currently collaborating with Valentina on an exciting Creative Writing Workshop. Head on to our Events page for incoming updates!
Interview by: Francesca Ferrauto
Editors: Jennifer Fiorile & Cecilia Gigliotti