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“Hi, my name’s Beth Spencer and I’m reading from a novel in progress and this section’s called The facts of life.
In the house across the road from the farm where I grew up – right in the middle, there was a special tiny perfectly square hallway, like a rocket. You went in and closed the door and waited, then opened another door into the bedroom. This was the way to see the baby without waking him.
… In the days when the house was still empty, Natalie and her sister Norma and I would play in there. We’d spin around and around and grab a door-handle. And then one day, instead of the musty smell, behind one of the doors, a baby crying. In the bathroom, a pair of cream fluffy His ‘n’ Her towels.
I liked to visit the zebra grass in the garden, and under the cypress tree an endlessly deep carpet of needles in which you could always (again and again) dig up terracotta flowerpots, some of them not broken at all. And a back-door and a side door. And passionfruit vines.
When my cousin’s wife Sally moved in, she gave Norma an old red lipstick and an empty perfume bottle that still smelled of perfume.
*
I was six when Sally’s baby was born.
I used to get terribly annoyed when we went to visit and she would go off into the bedroom to feed him, leaving us bored and restless in the living room, looking out the windows, listening to the radio, kicking our heels against the Rambler Vynex fler lounge and the triangle-shaped coffee table. Counting the stitches in the picture of the prancing horses on the black velvet ground.
“Why can’t Sally feed Gordon in here so we can see?” I moaned one day in exasperation. And my mother very quietly and matter-of-factly explained that mothers feed young babies milk from their breasts, and that was why we couldn’t watch.
I don’t remember being horrified. Perhaps because we lived on a dairy farm. But I was certainly startled. (How bizarre.) I went into the garden for a while and stripped bits of zebra grass between my teeth.
Well obviously, if Sally did feed him milk from her breasts (her naked breasts), then it was perfectly understandable that we had to wait outside.”
*
ABOUT BETH SPENCER:
Beth’s first book of fiction, How to Conceive of a Girl, was runner up for the Steele Rudd award. She’s also published a book of poetry, essays and newspaper columns; won the Age short story award; and written and produced work for ABC Radio National. She’s had several Literature Board fellowships, and a novel she’s been working on for a long time was also a part of her PhD.
“I was extremely fortunate to get a Writer’s Fellowship to Varuna back in the early 1990s, and again a few years later. It was a wonderful experience to feel so completely supported — even to having meals supplied — and to be in a place where writing is so deeply valued. I have had many excellent discussions with some fabulous people at Varuna over the years, as well as given readings and talks and had a book launched there. It is a truly special place.” Beth Spencer
PUBLICATIONS:
Things in a Glass Box (SCARP/Five Islands New Poets Series, 1994)
How to Conceive of a Girl (Vintage, Random House, 1996)
Body of Words (CDs) & Box of Words (CD-Rom) – teaching resource (Dogmedia, 2004)
CONTACT:
Varuna has been funded by the Australia Council to produce a Varuna Writer-a-Day “app”. When we have recorded 365 writers the app will be made available via the iTunes store. In the meantime, if you subscribe to this free blog, you can receive a daily reading delivered to your email inbox which can also be directed to your mobile phone.
To find out more about Varuna’s programs, residencies, events and support services for writers click here.
Thanks for a terrific reading. To me it’s evocative of all the feelings that little children, maybe girls in particular have about their bodies and their futures.
Thanks Beth, listening and reading simultaneously is very nice. I’m a terrible sub-vocaliser when I read so I’m always giving voices and intonation and pacing to the text in ways which all those speed reader, non-vocalisers don’t/can’t. So apart from enjoying the word pictures you so beautifully create, it was like stereo in my head. Nice.
Great to hear that some people still read and actually hear every word and the rhythms! A terribly good habit. Thanks for the comments. xb
Great insight into little girl thinking on big social questions. Thanks really enjoyed the reading.
I want more….. I have entered the world that Beth has set and now I am left thinking about the zebra grass and the young child narrating.
Lovely reading, it’s always so good to have the writer read their own work and you do it so well. You’ve certainly captured how bewildering adult bodies can be to children.
Thank you for your great comments! Very heartening. It’s been a long slow road for this novel. I love this writer-a-day project by Varuna. Delighted to be a part of it, and look forward to getting the app when it’s ready.
at the risk of echoing everyone (and Oliver) please Beth, I want some more!
What a beautiful reading. Enjoyed immensely.
Beautiful piece Beth.
Hi Beth,
I enjoyed this reading, your lovely voice and what you had to say. Very beautiful!
Jaima
Dear Sweet: Impressed by your reading – you left the words to express themselves; did not impose, although your voice work/reading fab. The mark of a good writer to paint the picture with words – thank you!
Beautifully written. Very evocative of a time long gone. (Loved the nostalgic references to Fler furniture and black velvet pictures!) Can’t wait to read the book! Thanks, Nikki.