The Louise Fawley Symphony by Rikki Evans
Thanks to Teachers...
Rikki Evans
Since publishing The
Louise Fawley Symphony,
I've thought with gratitude of the endeavours of my teachers many
years ago, especially those who first introduced me to English
Literature, and those who encouraged me to write. I'd love to be able
to let them know I'm now a published novelist, but imagine that,
sadly, they're now all way beyond telling.
So instead, I'll convey
my thanks in a blog, and reflect especially on how they and the works
they introduced me to helped shape The
Louise Fawley Symphony.
Firstly, let me say that
my teachers were nothing like the termagants whom my character Louise
encountered at the fictional St. Lucy's. My teachers were kindly and
conscientious, enthusiastic about their subjects, and revelled in
sharing their knowledge with their pupils.
During my Sixth Form
years, I studied English Literature, and our little group was lucky
enough to have two teachers for whom the syllabus texts were especial
favourites. The influence of each of these is woven into the weft and
warp of The
Louise Fawley Symphony.
For instance, Mrs Folkley (I'll call her) worshipped the richness of
King
Lear
and wrung every last drop of meaning, double-meaning and
triple-meaning from its lines. The art of conveying two messages with
one set of words is one I've admired ever after and have used
whenever I can. Conversely, Mr Sett (I'll call him) was a fan of The
Miller's Tale.
Ever since those years, I've believed that irreverence, bawdiness and
farce are entitled to their place, even in the most exalted
literature. There are certainly plenty of all three to be had within
The
Louise Fawley Symphony.
Finally, The
Rape of The Lock
initiated me into an infatuation with antique literature, and the art
of making the trivial, epic. And so, I couldn't resist including my
own translation of an Ode of Horace within The
Louise Fawley Symphony.
An acquaintance with the
works of Chaucer, Shakespeare, Pope, and others, (such as Dylan
Thomas) should remind us that storytelling has its origins in poetry,
and encourage us that poetry still has its place in storytelling.
Accordingly, I've tried to make my prose as poetic as possible,
chiefly by using techniques of alliteration more usually reserved for
poetry.
Going further back to my
Middle School years, Mrs Grimm (I'll call her) employed now
time-honoured favourites like Kpo
The Leopard
and The
Ghost of Thomas Kempe
in group reading sessions. My memories of these convince me that
literature should be for everyone, since even the least academic of
my classmates loved these stories. They also, I think, nurtured my
taste for tales told from an unexpected perspective. The African
savannah through the eyes of a baby leopard? An olden-days
poltergeist placated by a modern-day schoolboy?
These thoughts helped
lead to the creation of the most unlikely secret agent, a damaged,
spolied, sullied, wastrel, the inimitable Louise Fawley.
Falling back further to
my Primary School years, Mr Johns (I'll call him) read us Mrs
Frisby and The Rats of NIMH.
This tale, I believe, gave me a taste for the arcane and surreal
which ultimately led to my creating the secret world of Vetchley
Castle and its Project Godiva.
Finally, my last but
foremost word of gratitude must go to Mr Cherry (I'll call him),
another Primary School teacher, for whom the emphasis was undoubtedly
on encouraging children to compose. It was he who indulged
week-by-week my long-running story (lost, alas) Budgies
In Space
and thereby, sowed in me the longing to tell a tale, a longing which
ultimately germinated decades later in The
Louise Fawley Symphony.
Follow Louise as she burgles and bungles at Melusine Plastics, gets flirtatious and salacious in Vetchley Castle, grows amorous and glamorous in Sainte-Modeste, and finally, hooks and sinks her villainess on the superyacht Bonquonne.
In this delicious, light-hearted, randy romp, can Louise solve the arcane mystery of La Ligne?
The Louise Fawley Symphony contains material of a sexually explicit nature, so will not be to the taste of every adult reader.
After more than twenty-five years in accountancy, Rikki quit the profession to care for a parent whose health had deteriorated, and to give more time to those interests and hobbies which had
helped render accountancy almost bearable.
Rikki’s interests include all things historical, from castles to candlesticks, music of many genres, from Gregorian Chant to Brit Pop, and above all, like HE Bates, is happiest when working and whiling in a garden.
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