Acclaimed Irish writer Colm Tóibín has been on both ends of a Man Literary prize. His novels The Blackwater Lightship (1999) and The Master (2006) were both shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, and earlier this year he assumed the chairmanship of the third annual Man Asia Literary Prize judging panel. He has been widely praised for the deceptive simplicity of his subtle and emotionally striking prose. On Monday 16, Toibin visits Hong Kong to announce the Man Asia Literary Prize winner at an awards dinner at the Peninsula Hotel. On a recent early morning, we caught Toibin by phone at his Dublin home to discuss his transition from literary supplicant to judge, and the increasingly global nature of the novel.

Both as a judge and working writer, what were your impressions of this year’s Man Asian submissions?

There was a marvellous range of voices. What we were most often dealing with were people working out of a voice, rather than a predesigned narrative structure. So you would be kind of following a voice and following it avidly, into a very unfamiliar place.

A prize that’s meant to comprise all of Asia must invite all kinds of diversity.

Yes, that’s true. And as an Irish writer, I recognise some of the challenges Asian writers from various places face working in English. There is always the question of how much you should explain and not explain about your origins and customs – because the centre is elsewhere. How much can you assume the reader already knows? And there’s the risk of exoticising yourself. It’s a problem that I, as well as the other judges [Chinese American author Gish Jen and Indian writer Pankaj Mishra], regularly face in our own work. For example, what sort of Irish references can I make? You can assume the reader already knows what you’re talking about, or you can explain it, or you can use it as an opportunity for humour or local flavour – it’s something you have to constantly negotiate. It’s something writers in America or London don’t have to worry about nearly so much. I can say that I learned a great deal about certain places and peoples throughout Asia while I read these works.

Does such cultural variety make it hard to hold the work to a common standard?

No no, standard isn’t the word. Standard would entail the application of a theory and we didn’t work from a theory at all. Standard would be saying that Jane Austen represents the highest standard of the English novel, or applying a theoretical program. Each book offers you its own theory and either you buy it or you don’t. Every book takes you over. It’s rather like getting on a train and you judge the ride based on whether or not you like where it carries you.

So how then did you arbitrate disagreements among the judging panel?

We each introduced the books we liked and didn’t like and discussed them and argued for our favourites. Of course there were disagreements. It wasn’t as if the five titles for the shortlist simply jumped over and our work was done. No, it was a difficult process.

Did having been shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize yourself on two occasions at all inform your judging process?

Well, my latest novel Brooklyn was long-listed for the Man Booker but passed over for the short list, so maybe I was bitter [laughs]. Or maybe I was more sympathetic. It’s hard to say.

Before assuming the chair of the Man Asia judging panel, were you particularly interested in contemporary Asian literature?

Obviously anyone who is interested in reading now is very excited about Indian and Chinese fiction. It’s really fascinating, the diversity of work that’s being done – it’s as diverse as the novel itself, in terms of the techniques, approaches and voices. What you see is the novel globalising itself. People aren’t picking up books anymore just to read reflections about their own community, or nation, or tribe; they’re picking up a book by a Chinese author like Yiyun Li because her stories are as delicate and beautiful as some of the best short stories ever written, by Chekov or anyone.

Any Asian writers you’re especially excited about?

I can tell you a story. I was giving a lecture at an event in California some time ago, and as I was talking, I noticed this young woman who was sitting near the front, and she was looking at me with such interest and curious intensity; I was very struck by it. So after the talk I turned to one of the people I was with and asked who she was. And they said, oh that’s Yiyun Li, she’s just written a book of stories. ‘Oh well, I must have it,’ I replied. ‘I need to read it!’ And of course it was a beautiful book of incredible perception, with remarkable feeling, even at the level of the sentence. And I wasn’t surprised at all. It’s something you can see in people.

So can you tell us anything about the remaining five shortlisted contenders for this year?

Oh, I could, but I really think I shouldn’t. One slip or a word too much and I’ll give the whole thing away.

Colm Toibin gives a book signing on Mon 16, 12.30pm-2pm at Bookazine in Central, Shop 309, 3/F, Prince’s Building, Statue Square. RSVP to enquiries@bookazine.com.hk or call 2525 0218.