Born in Willesden, London in 1975, Zadie Smith studied English literature at the University of Cambridge. Her bestselling debut novel, White Teeth, won numerous awards and has been adapted for stage and television. Her other novels include On Beauty, NW and Swing Time; she has also published two short story collections, three books of essays and a play. She has twice been listed as one of Granta’s 20 best young British novelists. After a decade in New York, she now lives in north-west London with her husband, the poet Nick Laird, and their two children. Smith’s latest book, The Fraud (Penguin), is out now in paperback.
1. Music
Being Poor Is Expensive by Bashy
This is Bashy’s first album in 15 years: I love it. The production, the skill in the writing, the passion. In New York my students were often down on UK hip-hop and grime: “There’s no narrative: it’s just blip blip blap blap.” But Bashy is a consummate storyteller, although his own story – from bus driver to rapper to actor – is just the beginning here. He paints a comprehensive picture of what it was like to grow up on a tough north-west London estate, in the 80s. I especially love the first track – The London Borough of Brent. It begins with the tube announcements you hear on the Jubilee line. Music to my ears!
2. TV
The Decameron (Netflix)
I don’t know how accurate it is to the original (by Giovanni Boccaccio, 1353) – haven’t read it; will now read it – but as a piece of tragicomedy about a plague this is brilliantly written and very triggering. Every delusional stage of lockdown is here: the Zoom cocktails, the unwise parties, the absolute despair, the fear and loathing, the violent thoughts… but all transported to medieval Florence. It’s soapy yet witty, and instead of casting massive stars and hoping for the best, each actor fits their part like a glove, especially Douggie McMeekin, who nails the archetypal man-baby, obsessed with the doings of Ancient Rome.
3. Book
Bonding by Mariel Franklin
The best British debut I’ve read in a while. A lot of novelists (including me) write about tech without really knowing much about its inner workings. Bonding is that rare debut that’s as smart as it is stylish. It’s about a woman who works behind the scenes for a sex app – not unlike the real-life Feeld – and it’s very sharply written. But it goes beyond simple “tech satire”. To me, this novel is a critique of a whole society, one hollowed out by neoliberal deregulation and manipulated by algorithms. Somehow, it’s also very funny and sexy. The whole package.
4. Art
Entangled Pasts, 1768-now: Art, Colonialism and Change, Royal Academy, London
This exhibition stretched from JMW Turner to Yinka Shonibare, from Joshua Reynolds to Hew Locke, and promised to look at Britain’s colonial past in all its fascinating depth. The legacy of empire and enslavement, as well as the history of resistance and abolition. It was precisely these entangled pasts that interested me while I was writing The Fraud, and it’s exciting thinking of revisiting all that history again, but this time visually. I just ordered the catalogue.
5. Concert
I don’t have Chappell Roan tickets. I wish I had Chappell Roan tickets. I kept putting “Buy Chappell Roan tickets” on my to-do list and never getting to it and then the week I remembered turned out to be the week everybody realised how good she is and now they’re gold dust. It’s like Kate Bush and Lady Gaga and Elkie Brooks and an alien had a baby. The stylings are perfect, the attitude ideal – but it’s the voice that stuns. Incredible range and strength. If you also have no tickets try her NPR Tiny Desk concert – in which she pulls out a flip phone. Girl after my own heart.
6. Theatre
Coriolanus, National Theatre, London (11 September-9 November)
I’ve been re-reading Shakespeare’s history plays recently, and his analysis of political relationships never seems to age – you find something new and absolutely pertinent in each re-read. Presently we are living through an age of tragic wars: a very good time to stage Coriolanus, in all its ambivalence and complexity. Is it a profound psychological portrayal of a warmonger? Or a structural analysis of the very nature of war? Brecht staged it, for example, in a sceptical Marxist fashion, as a critique of the concept of the individual historical “hero”. The memorable Ralph Fiennes version, meanwhile, revealed a general with serious mommy issues. The times decide which Coriolanus we get: it’s a very effective mirror. And with David Oyelowo in the main role? Yes, please.
• The Fraud by Zadie Smith is published by Penguin. To support the Guardian and Observer order a copy at guardianbookshop.com or call 020-3176 3837. Delivery charges may apply
