Getting to Know … Michelle McDonald, Author of The Kiss of Saddam (Part 2)

In the first part of her interview Michelle talked about the plight of asylum seekers in Australia after the ‘Tampa Affair’. This motivated her to visit Villawood Detention Centre in SW Sydney and become involved in helping individual men and women in detention. She subsequently met Selma Masson, a refugee from Iraq, and went on to write her memoir The Kiss of Saddam.

I was really touched by Michelle’s commitment to help refugees from Villawood. Her awareness of their situation, her empathy toward their broken lives and her willingness to do something for them, in very tangible ways, is amazing, don’t you think?

It will come as no surprise that Michelle’s involvement with asylum seekers has led to changes in her life too …

Michelle, can you tell us a little about yourself?

I was born in Auckland, New Zealand and made my first foray ‘overseas’ across the Tasman when I was 19. I met and fell in love with a young Australian and two years later we married. We were very young; I was 21 and he was only 23.

We lived in Sydney, then Perth and Melbourne before settling in Avalon, where we stayed 16 years, later moving to Church Point and Bayview. We have a son and a daughter, both now adults and involved in their careers.For the past 13 years I have lived in Elvina Bay on the western foreshores of Pittwater, an idyllic place to daydream and hopefully to write.

At Macquarie University as a mature age student I gained a BA in English Literature and Drama and later I completed a Master’s by researching aspects of Aboriginal Desert Art. Recently I attended University of Technology Sydney (UTS) to do a post-graduate certificate in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL).

Have you always been a writer?

Writing has always been an interest and over the years I’ve written various short stories and poems, which were never published and numerous magazine articles which were. I edited a magazine dedicated to Aboriginal art and wrote and managed an annual publication for the Department of Defence. I won the Mona Brand Short Story competition in 2004. The Kiss of Saddam is my first book.

You mentioned that you didn’t have a publisher when you were writing the book. How did you eventually get the book published ?

Finding a publisher for a first time writer is close to, but luckily not totally, impossible. I attended a seminar at Allen & Unwin on the subject and was told that out of 4000  manuscripts by new writers they had in their ’slush pile’ last year, they published three. The odds were not great!

The Kiss of Saddam was picked out of Allen & Unwin’s slush pile,  suggesting some changes be made with view to their re-evaluation of the book. However, they eventually decided it did not fit their profile of products at that time. The same thing happened with an agent I approached. But at least I had two ‘nibbles’.

I submitted ‘Kiss’ to many other publishers. Some replied saying no thank you, some did not reply. Until the exciting day when Queensland University Press contacted me saying they were interested. The rest is history.

How did you meet Selma Masson, the woman at the centre of The Kiss Of Saddam?

Of course there was fundraising always going on to help refugees. And this is how I met Selma.

There was a party, in Sydney’s affluent Eastern suburbs, to raise money to help Muslim asylum seekers. There were many well-dressed guests, sipping chardonnay and cabernet. From the vine-covered veranda the sparkle of lights caught the swells of the ocean.  There were celebrities at this party, an auction, some speeches.

A handsome, urbane man, possibly in his early seventies, was surrounded by a bevy of middle-aged woman who were listening to him reverentially. His dark eyes sparked with humour and passion and his gestures – large arm movements – caused the women to clutch their glasses close. He spoke with an accent and with the noise of the party around him it was difficult to understand what he was saying.

Standing apart was  a small, full-figured woman. There was no-one with her yet she did not seem alone. She had an air of self-containment, of completeness. I could not help but notice the fineness of her wrists and ankles and her hands, smooth, elegantly manicured and composed. Her mouth was full, her nose slightly aquiline, her skin pale and smooth. Her dark hair was fashionably styled in a  bob, sweeping away from her quiet face. There was neither nervousness nor anxiousness in her manner; she was not looking for someone to talk to. Her stillness was striking. Her dark hazel eyes held the merest trace of amusement - or perhaps fond resignation - as she watched the elderly man (her husband) and the wrapt attention of his admiring listeners.

The asylum seekers that I and other guests at this party helped were usually young men who had escaped from appalling situations. They were often traumatised, needy, struggling to accommodate this new, free, secular and often racist society. This woman was different. I wanted to know more about her. I introduced myself to Selma.

What convinced you that Selma’s story was worth telling?

I believe Selma’s story is worth telling for a number of reasons.

First, the most obvious one. She has had an amazing life. But many people have had amazing lives.

In this day of media stereotyping of Muslims she is far, far from the stereotype. She does not walk 10 paces behind her husband, meek, compliant, obedient and dominated. Instead she is strong, free-willed, energetic, full of fun, forthright and incredibly brave. I wanted to tell readers that there is no such thing as a stereotypical Muslim woman, any more than there is a sterotypical western woman.

I was also fascinated by her accounts of her life in Iraq when it was a rich, vibrant, sophisticated culture, when people were well educated and lived productive, rewarding lives in beautiful cities. We look at Iraq on television today and see a wasteland. Selma thought it important and I agreed, that readers begin to understand  what Iraq was and hopefully will be again …

Coming soon is the last part of Michelle’s interview. She talks about the difficulties in writing a very personal account of Selma’s life, travelling through the Middle East with Selma and her husband, and how the her life has changed since becoming involved with the plight of refugees in Australia.

back to top