Nikolai The Perfect: An interview with Jim McIntyre
Nikolai the Perfect
Jim McIntyre’s debut novel, Nikolai the Perfect, follows a family secret from Russia to Melbourne.
Mary Martin Bookshop bookseller Jaye describes the novel as a submersive experience, not unlike plunging into a kaleidoscope which focuses to pin-point gut-wrenching perfection. At the heart of the narrative is a double father-son arc.
‘As intimate a family depiction as I have ever read, Vassili, Anna and Nikolai will stay with me for a very long time’.
In this interview, Jaye talks to Jim about the roller-coaster ride to publication, his writing process and the ‘life-affirming’ book he read during the pandemic.
Nikolai the Perfect is a richly embroidered and powerful debut. Nobody could have written those descriptions of Moscow and Melbourne without having lived, and worked, in both these cities. Am I right? Could you tell us a little about yourself?
Yes, I’m Melbourne born and bred. And in 1998, I set off to Moscow in search of adventure and to improve my Russian. I did all manner of work while I was out there, from running my own agency, recruiting Russian students to enrol in Australian universities, to doing translation, editing, even overdubbing documentaries. It was a great time. I loved the variety and being immersed in another culture, especially at such a critical time in Russia’s history. It was an extraordinary time to live there. I returned to Melbourne four years later and since then I’ve again had a varied career, juggled with a bit of parenting on the side. And nowadays you’ll find me at Russian House in Fitzroy, working as an aged care social worker for the Russian Ethnic Representative Council. It’s great to speak Russian every day with my clients, here at work in Melbourne.
In 2015, you were co-runner up for the Victorian Premier's Unpublished Manuscript Award. What was that experience like?
Within a few days of the announcement, a well-known literary agent and three publishers contacted me, asking to read my manuscript. Head-spinning for a struggling author like me who couldn’t get noticed even if I’d stripped off and run across the MCG on a Friday night. The ceremony to announce the winner – Jane Harper for The Dry – took place a week later. Michelle Wright, author of Fine, and I were equal runners-up. Best week of my life. Didn’t give a hoot about not winning.
I thought I’d arrived. Silly me. You shouldn’t assume anything in this business. The publishers’ doors that had flung open, closed, one by one. As much as they assured me they admired the work, the upshot was they didn’t think it would sell well enough.
“In 1998, I set off to Moscow in search of adventure… It was a great time. I loved the variety and being immersed in another culture, especially at such a critical time in Russia’s history. It was an extraordinary time to live there.”
I read from your acknowledgements that you worked on the novel in the beautiful surrounds of Abbotsford Convent. How did the space, and your peers, help your creative process?
It was indispensable. It was a meditative, idyllic space that also gave me what I call peripheral time. I mean, I would walk there along the Yarra, wondering how to start the session and an idea, or elusive phrase, or solution to a plot snarl, would pop into my head. And the camaraderie and support amongst the Convent writers and artists kept me buoyant. If not for Kate Ryan, a Convent writer friend who in 2018 recommended Nikolai to my publisher Jen Hutchison, he wouldn’t have seen daylight.
I now have a current tenancy at Glenfern, a joint initiative of the National Trust of Australia (VIC) and Writers Victoria. I get to write in my studio in a Gothic 19th century mansion surrounded by peaceful gardens. There are ten or so of us, we have monthly writers’ lunches where we swap tips and celebrate each achievement.
Could you describe your process for writing this novel? I read that it took almost 30 years to complete. Why?
It started as a class exercise for the RMIT Advanced Diploma of Professional Writing and morphed into a short story which picked up a couple of minor prizes and commendations. One judge commented that it read like an excerpt of a much larger work. That got me thinking, and off I went. I should track down her address and send her a thank you card. Post-RMIT, I amassed a pile of rejections you couldn’t jump over. Not long before I returned to Australia in 2002, I sent it to Liat Kirby at LYNK Manuscript Assessment, who wrote a very encouraging report. But it wasn’t until 2005, when Abbotsford Convent offered me a studio, that I got serious.
Vassili, Anna and Nikolai will stay with me long after reading. Having lived with them for so long, I am curious to know where they are now for you?
That’s lovely to hear. I think I’m done with Vassili for now. I might resurrect Anna in a short story; an alternative, darker telling of her pregnancy perhaps. As for the kid, towards the end of the editing I started calling him Nikolai the Man-child. Mate, you’re thirty for god’s sake, get out into the world already.
Did I recognise a brylcream-coiffed Jeff Kennett in the last quarter of your book? You can tell me; it will be our secret.
Haha, I didn’t disguise him too well, did I? I couldn’t not use a world-class quiff like that.
Do you have any advice for the novice writer?
Keep turning up. Do the grind. Keep believing. It’s never too late. It took me thirty years. For the reasons given earlier, I think it’s great to have a dedicated space, but that won’t work for everyone.
If you’re bogged down in the narrative, here’s my go-to exercise to get things moving: imagine you’re the captain of a ship docked mid-voyage. To make the destination you summon each and every worker – each word – to your cabin where you interrogate them in turn: is each pulling its weight? You first winkle out adverbs – the stowaways. The adjectives – the catering crew – in the main earn their keep but the odd one gets a bit fancy with condiments. The nouns correspond to the engine room – reliable contributors. But, if well chosen, the verbs supply the muscle and grunt to keep the ship moving, they’re the last ones you’d offload.
Is there a second novel in Jim McIntyre?
Yes, my next book features Nikolai Miklukho-Maklay, a 19th century Ukrainian explorer, anthropologist, zoologist, and campaigner against human trafficking in the South Pacific. He was a Sydney celebrity in his time and married the daughter of the five-time Premier of New South Wales. Against the Premier’s wishes. I don’t know what it is with me and characters named Nikolai.
Can you share a few of your favoured reads from our time during lock down?
My fiction reading dropped off, but I’ve just finished Utopia Avenue by David Mitchell. Exuberant and life affirming. He’s one of those writers who gets up on the high wire. Even if he falls I’ll cheer him on.
Read Jaye’s review of Nikolai the Perfect on our Books We Love page.
