The Writer’s Room by Katie da Cunha Lewin

Where do writers write? And what do these spaces reveal about them? University academic Katie da Cunha Lewin takes a look.

Is a room of your own even possible on diminishing author incomes?

The Writer’s Room is a mix of memoir, travel, and thought. Across five essays, Katie da Cunha Lewin asks what draws us to a writer’s house? What do we look for when we shuffle through Jane Austen’s Chawton? Do the visits collapse time and space, giving us the illusion of intimacy with a past hero? Are we prying? Do we feel awkward? Might the great writer’s talent rub off on us? Do we all want a tea towel from the gift shop? (Yes, we do).

Katie da Cunha Lewin tours several preserved writers’ houses, both in person and online. But what makes a house a writer’s house? How much time must a writer have been in residence for it to count? Da Cunha Lewin found little of John Keats at Wentworth Place, where he’d lived for just two years. And how do we choose whose homes to preserve? James Baldwin’s home in France was lost to developers. Do only the rich survive?

Does a room of your own really mean a nice big bank account of your own?

But a room of your own is no guarantee of peace. J.G. Ballard’s daughter admits that, though they had a pact not to disturb him, his children couldn’t resist slipping through the door to ask questions. And what of mothers? ‘A mother must make herself always available. A writer needs to shut the door,’ says Alexandra Schwartz. Which side of the door is the mother on? And if she’s on the writing side, she risks a public scalding - as Rachel Cusk discovered after publishing A Life’s Work.

And what of those without a room of their own? Those at work in the full pandemonium of the family living room. Or on the bus. Or on the loo.

I often found myself in friendly disagreement with de Cunha Lewin, but I enjoyed the debate nonetheless. The Writer’s Room raises interesting questions, but is thin on answers. In the end, writers write in all sorts of different places. I did, however, really enjoy the section on author portraits and have found myself returning to this in recent conversations. The book has left an afterglow.

“Almost 100 years after the publication of Woolf’s book, perhaps we have no choice but to dream a little smaller, looking for borrowed spaces on diminished earnings.” p. 217

Many thanks to Elliott&Thomson, Katie da Cunha Lewin, and NetGalley for my ARC.

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