Rosamond Lehmann: I don't mean the Freudian Subconscious—a wastepaper basket of unfulfilled sexual desires—but the Jungian unconscious—something deeper, belonging to the human race, whence myths spring.
Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson: I mean, I related to that. That plays a role in why it’s easy to forget things.
Lehmann: That used to be something quite unacceptable.
Thompson: [Laughs] If anything, it was an embarrassment of riches.
Lehmann: Suddenly, I started to write a poem.
•••
Thompson: Right now, I am going through a personal transformation. A lot of us put on this protective shield. Being too cool for school, cynical.
Lehmann: You cannot write about an experience when you are living it, suffering it. You are too busy surviving to look at it objectively.
Thompson: You’re watching death after death after death every night. Trucks of body bags on the corner.
Lehmann: I went to one or two spiritualist séances but—without wanting to be too critical—I found them cheap, elementary and popular.
Thompson: The common thing was that no one believed.
•••
Lehmann: How can you write an interesting novel when there are no secrets, and nothing is sacred?
Thompson: When I felt that I had enough goosebump moments, I curated it like I curate my DJ sets or like I curate a show.
Lehmann: As time went on we talked about what was inevitably to come—the war.
Thompson: We are struggling for a space to exist.
Lehmann: A room, yes, one needs tranquility.