Mata Hari's Last Dance(74)

The women in history who appeal to me the most are often the ones who did something extraordinary, although very little is known about them by the public. In my novel Rebel Queen, Sita trained to become one of the queen’s personal guards at a time when most women were in purdah and not allowed out of the house. In the case of Mata Hari, I found her rise to fame fascinating. She overcame great personal odds—the death of her child, her husband’s abuse—to remake herself and become one of the most recognized dancers in Europe.

Why did you choose to begin the novel with Mata Hari’s death? Do you think starting with her execution and working backward helps us get close to the truth?

I think when people hear the name Mata Hari, a few things immediately come to mind, one of which is her execution. I thought it would be interesting to start with what people already know and work from there. Mata Hari had an extraordinary life. It was an incredibly complicated one, and the entire truth of what she did (or didn’t do) may never be known.

Besides Mata Hari, who is your favorite character in the novel and why?

Her lawyer, Edouard Clunet. He was there throughout her life, even at the very end when she was executed. The fact that he witnessed the entire arc of her career made him an interesting figure.

Do you think Mata Hari was innocent? The story presents us with both possibilities through the newspaper articles. What is your stance? Or do you think the possibility exists that she was both a little guilty and a little innocent?

I think Mata Hari fell prey to all the wonderful press that was written about her—that she was a great seductress and a stunning beauty. My guess is that she thought she could get away with spying because she was such an irresistible woman. Her entire adult life she’d been told this. So yes, I think she did spy, but I think she did it for France and that she did it very poorly. I don’t believe for a moment that she was interested in secrets or war. Money was her goal—it had always been her goal since her father had lost everything when she was a child.

In your research, do you think you discovered the “real” Mata Hari? Or does she remain as mysterious to you as ever?

I think the real Mata Hari is in these pages somewhere—in the glimpses of her childhood, in the pain she describes at seeing her father living with another woman after he abandoned her family, in the memories of her husband’s cruelty. Her personality was forged in the fires of abandonment and abuse. But always, even at the end, she held on to the dream of reuniting with Non.

Discuss the title. In your opinion, is Mata Hari’s last dance her death? Or does her legacy reach beyond her execution?

I think her last dance was certainly her death. It was a performance, only this time it was on a political stage and she wasn’t able to orchestrate it.

How did you bring to life prewar Paris and Berlin? Did you travel to these cities to capture their spirit? Share with us your research method.

Whenever I write a book, I travel to the locations where my characters spent much of their time. For Mata Hari, that meant going to Paris, Berlin, and the Netherlands. But Paris proved to be the most important, in particular the Musée Guimet, where Mata Hari made her debut.

What do you think was Mata Hari’s true goal in life? In some ways, she seems vain. In other moments, she is a heartbroken mother. What is your take on the real person’s desire?

I think she was many things, just as all of us are. She was beautiful and vain and ambitious and wounded. She was a wife and mother and dancer and courtesan. She searched desperately for love and couldn’t seem to recognize the real form of it when it came. I think that the biggest mistakes she made in her life (in terms of what she did during the war and the men she allowed to court her) go back to this desperate search for acceptance.

Do you understand Mata Hari’s popularity as a form of exoticism? Is this problematic for you? How did you tackle such a large issue in the novel?

This is such a great question. There’s no doubt that Mata Hari’s success came from her perceived exoticism. This is something she tried very hard to cultivate, going as far as changing her name and place of birth whenever she spoke with the press. We know she fell in love with Hinduism at some point in Java, but whether she practiced it at home is highly doubtful. She probably embraced it much the same way her audiences did—as something new and interesting. However, when you really look at her dances and how they incorporated Hindu gods, what she was doing was shocking. Nothing like that was happening in any temple in India or Java. I’m sure she knew that and I’m sure it didn’t concern her. She was an entertainer.

You ask “what is truth and what is propaganda?” in the novel (page 167). Can you answer your own question in light of Mata Hari’s arrest and conviction?

That’s a difficult question when writing about Mata Hari. She tried so hard to obfuscate her past that in some ways she really succeeded. In terms of her death, though, I have very strong feelings that it served both France and Germany’s need at the time. I talk about this in my epilogue. It’s a sad thing to realize just how grossly justice was miscarried in her case.

Is there a historical moment of interest to you right now? What are you reading?

Yes! Ancient Egypt. Every few years I feel the need to return to the world of the Pharaohs, now more than ever. Currently I’m reading a book about life under Pharaoh Hatshepsut. She was a fascinating woman who reigned as a king long before Nefertiti and Cleopatra.