John Boyne: ‘I know now I’ll never be a dad but I’ve perfected the role of uncle. Here’s my advice’

During the closing scenes of my novel The Heart’s Invisible Furies, which take place shortly after the result of the 2015 Equal Rights Marriage Referendum was announced, I quote David Norris, who was asked about his own ambitions towards marriage. “It’s a little bit late for me,” he said. “I’ve spent so much time pushing the boat out that I forgot to jump on and now it’s out beyond the harbour on the high seas, but it’s very nice to look at.”
It was a beautiful, humane remark, tinged with regret but also an acceptance that each of us is born and dies in a particular period and can only live our lives within the constraints of that time.
Like marriage, fatherhood is something I grew up assuming that I would never experience and now, at 53, I know I never will. I’ve made my peace with that but am glad that younger gay men and women can have every expectation that it might be part of their future in the same way it is for heterosexuals.
[ David Norris’s life in politics: ‘People had the idea that gay people are monstrous. I wanted them to see the human’Opens in new window ]
I would have been a great dad. I adore children, I’m good with them and know how to talk to them. When I visit schools to talk about my books, I get a huge buzz from the enthusiasm of young readers. Their questions can be incredibly random. How much money do you earn, what car do you drive, and do you own a dog are regulars, but some are more outlandish. “Are you friends with David Beckham?” was one that I used to regularly encounter . (“We peed next to each other at a book launch once,” I didn’t tell them; I assume he retains as vivid a memory of this incident as I do.)
“Do you write about the second World War so much because you fought in it?” has come up more often than I wish. (“No, the first,” is my standard reply.)
I have plenty of writer friends who are parents and I see the adjustments they’ve had to make in their lives to pursue their careers while being present for their kids and sometimes I envy them and sometimes I’m glad that I didn’t have to make those same compromises. That said, while I’m proud of the fact that I’ve been publishing for 32 years, whenever I’m asked about my greatest accomplishment, I’m never stuck for an answer.
It’s being an uncle.
I became one quite young, aged 20, and threw myself into the role with gusto. The nephew in question, Jamie, is 32 now and, after what might politely be called a few misadventures during his teens and 20s, has settled down into responsible adulthood, running a successful business and enjoying a happy relationship.
As well as being his uncle, however, I’m also his godfather. Some months back, I attended a family Christening where Jamie himself became a godfather for the first time, which made me feel as old as the hills. Does this make me a grand-godfather, I wondered?
[ Why I have said no every time I’ve been asked to be a godparent to my friends’ and family’s childrenOpens in new window ]
I’m in a WhatsApp group with my nephews, niece and their respective partners and, the day before the Christening, I messaged with some advice on how to perform the role which I have spent three decades perfecting. This is what I came up with.
If you follow these instructions, then 32 years down the line, you’ll know you did it right and there’ll be few people in the world who you enjoy hanging out with more.
But remember, you’ll still be paying for the pints. That never changes.
John Boyne is interviewed about his new novel Fire in today’s Ticket