I’m delighted to
welcome Vanessa Gebbie to my blog today to talk about her debut novel ‘The
Coward’s Tale’, which has just been released as a paperback by Bloomsbury. ‘The
Coward’s Tale’ is the story of a young boy called Laddy Merridew, who has gone
to stay with his grandma in a small Welsh mining town – home to the Kindly
Light Pit and the scene of a terrible disaster there a number of years earlier.
Whilst there Laddy strikes up a friendship with Ianto Jenkins, a beggar who
tells the stories of those townsfolk who have been affected by – and continue
to be affected by – the disaster, either directly or indirectly. The book is a
cleverly constructed tapestry of those stories, with Ianto Jenkins’ own story
proving to be one of the most intriguing. As well as a novelist, Vanessa is
also a renowned short story writer and has published two collections so far –
‘Words From a Glass Bubble’ and ‘Storm Warning’. She was also the contributing
editor of a collection of essays on the short story, ‘Short Circuit: A Guide to
the Art of the Short Story’.
AJ: Hi, Vanessa. Thanks
for taking the time to talk to me about ‘The Coward’s Tale’. It’s a beautiful
book – wonderfully engaging and finely crafted. The writing is so precise and
filled with genuinely original, thought-provoking descriptions and language.
How did you approach the writing of the book? Did you concentrate on the
individual stories and then work at linking them together, or did you have a
bigger vision from the beginning?
VG: Thank you - that’s really lovely feedback and makes me
very happy - *dances round the kitchen*!
But to answer your question, yes, I started by writing
the individual stories of my eleven main characters, not knowing any more than
that - I was exploring the strange tics and issues they had - and it wasn’t
until I’d done quite a few that the back stories became as important as the
rest. The twelfth character, Ianto Jenkins, wandered in to the study early on,
and took over the back stories - so I went with that. And I am so glad I did.
The character of Laddy appeared quite late, and took on a significance I hadn’t
foreseen. A boy had popped up now and again in the stories - and it was always
Laddy, although I didn’t recognise him early on. One of the last things to
appear was Ianto’s own story, told in part by Ianto to Laddy in bits and bobs,
almost as if he trusted the boy more than me - he waited until Laddy was real
enough before giving his own secrets away to him. But even then, he held back the most
important part of his story - what had happened on the day of the collapse at
Kindly Light. Peter tells part of that,
then it is finally finished by Ianto himself, almost at the end of the book. He
was telling that to me as I wrote - it has to be one of the most intensely
moving moments in my writing career to date.
You are a superb writer, and will understand that
feeling. If any non-writers are reading this, they will want us locked up.
AJ: That's really fascinating - and I know exactly what you mean! I love all the
references to light and dark in the novel. This is evident throughout, for
example in names such as the Kindly Light pit and the Black Mountain, as well
as in the descriptions of the pit being dark but its floor becoming ‘a great
carpet of stars’ when its watery surface is lit up by light from the miners’
lamps. How aware of light and dark were you when writing?
VG: Not really - other than the fact that I’m a visual
writer, and can be quite cinematic. I ‘see’ scenes as I write them. ( I hear
more chains rattling from those non-writers...). The name Kindly Light
suggested itself immediately for a mine - like fishing boats, men often
give/gave mines names that hold some possibility of safety, a charm, a prayer.
But it is also so ironic. Black Mountain is real, at least, it is the name we
gave to the hill opposite my grandmother’s street, over the valley. Because
(surprise...) it was always dark, for some reason.
It is Ianto who sees the carpet of stars, just as he
sees the tunnels and spaces underground as kin to the cathedral at Llandaff.
I’ve said this before - but 'The Coward’s Tale' was really Ianto’s book, I just
followed behind, and wrote it.
AJ: I love how you explore
the aftermath of grief, and how you show tragedy affecting those immediately
touched by it, as well as people down the generations. For example, when Eve
Bartholomew’s fiancé is killed in the Kindly Light accident before their
wedding day, we are told about her unusual behaviour following this but, rather
than us judging her, we are allowed into her imagination so that we can
understand her. Did you enjoy the process of unpeeling such behaviour to get to
the truth of a character’s life and story?
VG: Maybe ‘enjoy’ is the wrong word? I am so closely
‘inside’ a character when I am writing, that when something like this happens I
am experiencing it as them, and it can be really hard. In the case of Evie, it
wasn’t too bad, probably because I didn't know the character well - to explain,
I wrote part of Eve’s story a long time
before the novel. It was just a scrap, I didn’t know where to put it - not a
story, really, and I stuck it in some file or other. But when writing Nathan’s
back story finally, I got to a sort of mental cliff, and couldn’t see what was
next. Weird feeling. Until I remembered that snippet, and it fitted. Nuts, this
stuff, isn't it?
A different piece, the back story of Tutt Bevan’s
grandfather - again, about grief - he is being watched by a small girl, and we
see what he does through her eyes. That’s a perfect way to show how I write. I
hide in the cupboard under the stairs and watch what characters do, when they
think they are not being observed. See, as soon as they know they are being
written, they start behaving differently - more self-consciously. They try to
make their actions comprehensible, when actually, a lot of what we do is much
more interesting when it is seemingly illogical. That’s when I stop and go and
make a cuppa.
AJ: That's a wonderful image - of you hiding and listening, keeping out of the way of the characters so that they can just get on with their 'lives'. What do you think with
regard to fiction and empathy? I think understanding the motivations of characters
can help readers to empathise with others in the ‘real’ world. I wondered if
you had any thoughts on that?
AJ: I felt your book really encouraged empathy in the reader, which is why I asked about this. I do feel that one of the jobs of fiction (if it has a job at all) is to help us to empathise and understand. So it's surprising - and disappointing - when people are encouraged away from it in articles such as that one.
There’s a real sense
of the magic in some of the stories – for example, the woodwork teacher Icarus
Evans trying to carve wooden feathers that will float or the window cleaner
Judah Jones going into the chapel with a bucket of leaves – but there is always
a believable explanation. Do you enjoy finding the unusual and then grounding
it in the ordinary?
VG: Sort of the other way round... (she said in a most
inarticulate manner). I have yet to find much in this life that is really truly
‘ordinary’ - if you look, there’s always something remarkable hidden in the
creases. But conversely, there is a pleasure in creating ‘reasons’, don’t you
think? I mean, we are always explaining
things - always looking for patterns. Even where none exist, sometimes.
(!)
AJ: I agree - we're 'programmed' to find patterns and to make order out of the chaos. There's definitely a pleasure in exploring that.
Finally, if you could
have a gift from Icarus Evans, the woodwork teacher, what would you ask him
for?
VG: I’d like the gift of knowing what a tree can do and
be. Like the extraordinary and inspirational sculptor David Nash (many more videos available via Google). If you can ever see
an exhibition by this man, please do.
AJ: Many thanks for
talking to me, Vanessa - and good luck with the paperback edition!
VG: Thank you. xx
* 'The Coward's Tale' is available here, from independent bookshops and all the usual places.
The lovely and supportive Alison Wells is celebrating the launch of her feel-good space adventure 'Housewife with a Half-Life' today (May 8th). Here's Alison - or A. B. Wells - to tell everyone a little bit more about her book:
Susan
Strong is a suburban housewife who is literally disintegrating. When Fairly Dave,
a kilt-sporting spaceman arrives through the shower head to warn her, she knows
things are serious. When she and her precocious four year old twins, Pluto and
Rufus, get sucked through Chilled Foods into another universe it gets even
messier. Where household appliances are alive and dangerous, Geezers have
Entropy Hoovers and the Spinner's Cataclysmic convertor could rip reality
apart, Susan Strong is all that’s holding the world together.
