by Tracy Farr
But all Iris can hear is her boy’s voice. His beautiful voice; her beautiful boy.
While they sing, Luce slips the phone – the dead-battery phone – out of the pocket of her hoody. She composes a look of surprise on her face, then she nudges Iris, holds out the phone to her, whispers.
‘I found it under a bed. Battery’s dead. I checked.’
‘Oh, love! You’re wonderful!’
Iris takes the phone, pockets it, puts her arm around Luce and kisses her on her cheek. There are tears on Iris’s face, and they touch Luce and make cool wetness. They stand together and listen to the song, and Iris does not let her go.
‘Bravo! The von Diamond Family Singers.’
‘Look, I’ve found my phone!’
‘How do you solve a problem like Martina?’
‘– under one of the beds. I thought I’ d checked them all –’
‘Mittens on kittens, my favourite things.’
‘Speaking of which –’
‘Settle down, Marti. Wait for the name.’
‘– completely dead. I’ll charge it later, in case the movers need to contact me.’
‘I know you said no gifts –’
‘Oh, Iris –’
‘But I wanted to make her something.’
Iris hands the folded blanket to Kristin, and leans in to kiss the baby’s head. She kisses Kristin – awkwardly, catching her ear – and then Paul has them all in his big wild arms and they’re all together for a moment before they break. Kristin unfurls the blanket – a flick of her wrist, like a magician’s sleight of hand – and Paul takes the other top corner and they hold it between them: a banner, a sail, a map, a scroll.
‘There’s space for her name. In the centre. If you –’
‘I made this for her.’
Kurt brings a book, square, small. He has stitched the pages together through the spine, inside a cover of cloth glued to stiff card. He flicks through the pages, and lines and colours move into action, like a zoetrope, or something glimpsed from the corner of your eye.
‘I drew one of Rosa’s faery tales. The swan one.’
He nods with his head towards the table, where earlier he had placed Rosa’s book, Miss Fortune’s Faery Tales.
He places the book that he has made in Kristin’s hand, and leans in to kiss the baby’s head, then kisses Kristin on the cheek.
‘There’s space for her name in the front. This book belongs to –’
He stands by his mother’s side, and leans into her.
‘Well, I made her a cake, the first of many.’
Marti carries the cake up and out in front of her, holds it up on high like a gift of gold, and they all whoop and cheer, as she places it on the table. She waves a knife in the air as she speaks.
‘No space for her name, so we marked it with B. Time for cake and bubbly, now –’
‘I made something too.’
Luce moves to the centre of the room, and she stands like Kurt had stood: one hand flat on her heart, the other by her side. She closes her eyes and starts to sing.
In the house
Where we all are
She gives full voice to the words. She’s written them for the baby, for all of them.
At the bay, in the rain
She opens her eyes, and sees her mother watching her, nodding in time to her voice.
Unmake this house around you
Words from the house, from the bay; from that poetry book that has made its way to the table, too.
Map the world, mark it
Name it fresh, illuminate
She sings for Rosa, her long life.
All that it may become
She sings for the baby. She looks at Kristin, holding the baby, smiling at her. The baby is half-awake. Kristin rocks, sways out of time with her voice.
Light the house
Bring it home
She’s left space for the baby’s name, in the breath round the words at the end of the song.
While we name you, here in the rain
Those were the words when she wrote it. But the sun’s here now.
While we name you, here in the sun
The baby’s arm lifts, and its fist pumps the air in a rock’n’roll salute.
Iris – with all of them – waits to hear the baby’s name. She might be Rosa. She won’t be Hope. She will be herself, her own name. And Iris will mark it, map it in the centre of the blanket, stitch it to fix it, to finish.
All outside the house, now
There’s a certain point, about now, once the words have been spoken and they have all cheered and sung and wept, and wet the baby’s head, when they realise it’s warmer outside the house than inside. Marti lifts what’s left of the cake in one hand, grabs the half-empty bottle in the other, and so the procession starts: the party moves outside. They bring chairs, one by one. Paul and Iris lift the table, and carry it between them, place it in the sun. Luce brings Kurt’s book, reading it as she walks. Kurt brings the baby’s blanket, reads its stitches like a book. Luce goes back for the paper chains, loops them from chair to chair. Iris brings Rosa’s book, the Hope poems, and a pot of tea. And Kristin brings the baby, with her fresh, new name.
Acknowledgements
I am deeply grateful to everyone involved in funding and awarding three residencies I held while writing this novel: in 2014, the inaugural R.A.K. Mason Writer’s Fellowship at New Zealand Pacific Studio (special thanks to Chris and Derek Daniell); a Second Book Residential Fellowship in 2015 at Varuna, The Writers’ House; and, for a month in midwinter 2015, the inaugural Mildura Writers Festival Residency.
I owe thanks to those who, whether they knew it or not, helped me write this book: Tracy White, Anna Borrie, Lydia Karpenko and Vlad Papish (for textiles); Denise Batchelor, Madeleine Slavick and Mary Chan (for our Norwegian Church visit, which gave me Luce); Janis Freegard (for her take on Linnaeus and names); Jessie Cole and Eliza Henry-Jones (for discussions that helped me shape this novel about a bunch of people); Peter Bishop (for asking the right questions); Danielle Hanifin (for putting Mildura on my writing map); Donata Carrazza, Helen Healy, Sheridan Stewart et al. (for reading and talking around the table); Sheila Atkinson and Stefano de Pieri (for a focus on food, tutti a tavola); and Pam Shugg (though Olive Cottage is not the Cassetown house, it’s in this novel nonetheless). Dylan Horrocks and Sarah Laing led me (back) to comics. India Flint’s practice and writing about mark-making and the relationship of landscape to textiles provided early inspiration for this novel. Mardi May lent support and enthusiasm, information about textiles, and a Meckering gift. Junichiro Iwase’s art, and discussions we shared, resonate through this novel.
I borrowed (again), though lightly, from my grandmothers. Their lives and stories have always fascinated me, and continue to find a place in my writing.
I owe an enormous debt to Dr Raphael (Rafi) Freund (1933–1984), geologist, author of ‘The Hope Fault: A Strike Slip Fault in New Zealand’, New Zealand Geological Survey Bulletin (1971). The fictional geological bulletin and Zigi’s poems and letters in my novel owe a great debt to (and share words and phrases with) the real-life bulletin. While Zigmund (Zigi) Silbermann and the events of his life as described in this novel are my own fictional construction, I acknowledge the beauty and inspiration that I found in the words and maps of Rafi Freund, and their place at the heart of this novel. I am very grateful to geologist and historian Simon Nathan for information and enthusiasm during the late stages of editing this novel. I’m grateful, too, to Keith Lewis and Maggie Dyer for geological and publication information, and their enthusiasm for the project. Any geological errors are mine alone (or retained with poetic licence).
My thanks, gratitude and respect go to the team at Fremantle Press. I especially thank Georgia Richter, publisher and editor extraordinaire: as always, an absolute pleasure to work with, and the very safest and most trusted pair of editing hands.
Love and thanks to Craig and Spencer, as always, for everything.
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This novel would not have been completed without the focused time during 2015 that a Creative New Zealand Arts Grant allowed me.
The author gratefully acknowledges permission to reproduce or refer to material:
Raphael Freund, ‘The Hope Fault: A Strike Slip Fault in New Zealand’, New Zealand Geological Survey Bulletin 86 (1971) is referenced with permission of GNS Science.
The epigraph to Part I is from J.R.R. Tolkien’s essay ‘On Fairy-Stories’. World (excluding USA in print form): excerpt from Tree and Leaf, HarperCollins, London, 2009. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd © J.R.R. Tolkien 1964. USA (print form): excerpt from ‘On Fairy Stories’ from The Monsters and the Critics by J.R.R. Tolkien. Copyright © 1983 by Frank Richard Williamson and Christopher Reuel Tolkien as Executors of the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved.
Grateful thanks to Dylan Horrocks for permission to use a quote from his graphic novel Hicksville, Victoria University Press, Wellington, 2010, as this novel’s epigraph. The epigraph to Part II, from ‘Counting Backwards’ (music and lyrics Kristin Hersh), The Real Ramona, Throwing Muses, 4AD/Sire, 1991, is used with kind permission from Kristin Hersh.
The chapter ‘At the bay’ was published in Good Dog! New Zealand Writers on Dogs, Stephanie Johnson (ed.), Vintage, Auckland, 2016; the chapter ‘To the lighthouse’ had its beginnings in the short story ‘Once had me’, published in the New Zealand newspaper Sunday Star-Times, after winning that paper’s short story award in 2014.
For further notes in relation to source material, please visit
tracyfarrauthor.com
Also by Tracy Farr
This is the story of Dame Lena Gaunt: musician, octogenarian, junkie. Lena is Music’s Most Modern Musician, the first theremin player of the twentieth century. From the obscurity of a Perth boarding school to a glittering career on the world stage, Lena Gaunt’s life will be made and torn apart by those she gives her heart to.
Shortlisted for the Barbara Jefferis Award, 2014.
Shortlisted for the Western Australian Premier’s Book Award, 2014.
Longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award, 2014.
Praise for The Life and Loves of Lena Gaunt
‘Compelling reading.’ The Listener
‘Farr’s prose soars … this sparkling debut novel captures the spirit of an accomplished woman as she reflects on the arc of her long life.’ Adelaide Advertiser
‘Tracy Farr’s beautifully written and well-crafted novel combines music and art as she moves the reader around the globe through the dazzling 30s and 40s. This rich novel pays tribute to the life of an artist in all its forms.’ The West Australian
‘I was completely engrossed in Lena Gaunt’s heartfelt story. [Four stars out of five]’ Books+Publishing
‘I love the sensuous ebb and flow of this work. The language is beautiful, the sense of music a powerful onward movement throughout the story. Tracy dares to go where many a writer might retreat, Lena’s story full of raw power. This is writing that is not afraid.’ Dame Fiona Kidman
‘Lena Gaunt is a powerfully imagined character possessed of a vivid emotional landscape. Her sensuality is intensely evoked, not only through her music and relationships but through her lifelong love of the sea… Lena, and Farr’s writing, charm, delight and seduce.’ New Zealand Books: A Quarterly Review, Autumn 2015
‘A novel which reads like an elegant memoir … Farr’s powerful, sensuous writing brings the rhythm and movement of both the ocean and music to a life rich with art and colour, ambition, love, and indescribable loss.’ Judge’s Report, WA Premier’s Book Awards
‘From reflections on technology and art, to questions of addiction and control, the novel moves expertly from a portrait of Lena’s life to an analysis of its broader, deeper themes. The Life and Loves of Lena Gaunt is a reflective, quiet, but beautifully written tale perfect for those interested in the intersection of music, literature, and film.’ Foreword Reviews, USA
Available from fremantlepress.com.au and all good bookstores
First published 2017 by
FREMANTLE PRESS
25 Quarry Street, Fremantle WA 6160
(PO Box 158, North Fremantle WA 6159)
www.fremantlepress.com.au
Copyright © Tracy Farr, 2017
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.
Consultant editor Georgia Richter
Cover design Nada Backovic
Cover photograph Getty: Nicklas Pettersson / EyeEm, ‘View Of House
Through Glass Window Condensed With Raindrops’
Printed by Everbest Printing Company, China
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Farr, Tracy, author.
The hope fault / Tracy Farr.
ISBN: 9781925164435 (epub)
Subjects: Families — Fiction.
Family secrets — Fiction.
A823.4
Fremantle Press is supported by the State Government through the Department of Culture and the Arts.
Publication of this title was assisted by the Commonwealth Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body.
