Sylvain Reynard

NY Times Best-Selling Author

Literature – Thomas Hardy

Dear Everyone,

I stepped on Thomas Hardy (1840-1928). 

It wasn’t entirely accidental, I’ll admit. Nevertheless, I apologized profusely. In my defense, poet’s corner of Westminster Abbey was crowded and I was presented with the dilemma of either stepping on Thomas Hardy or Charles Dickens. So really, I did what anyone would do when faced with such a choice – I elected not to bowl over the pregnant woman on my right in order to skirt both graves and I chose to step on the writer whose work I enjoy least.

Hence, I stepped on Thomas Hardy. (This was some time ago. Alas, I can still hear him grumbling.)

In my novel, “Gabriel’s Inferno,” literature plays an important role in the structure of the narrative. Broadly speaking, the relationship between the male and female leads is modelled on the relationship between Dante and Beatrice. But there are other lesser literary references in the narrative, sometimes only a quip or two, in which there is a bit of foreshadowing or an analogy.

In one such scene, Rachel Clark and her friend Julia are engaged in a discussion about the sad times facing Rachel’s family. By way of comparison, she mentions a few famous writers, and ends her remarks by hoping that her life does not follow the lives of Thomas Hardy’s characters. She then offers a brief expletive, telling the reader exactly what she thinks of him.

Lest anyone misunderstand Rachel’s remarks or my quick-stepping indifference in the Abbey, I should state that I don’t dislike Thomas Hardy. I admire his writing greatly and unreservedly recommend his works. (Start with The Mayor of Casterbridge, then work up to Tess of the d’Urbervilles, then if you’re really brave and have a lot of Scotch on hand, read Jude the Obscure.)

Although I admire Hardy’s writing, I don’t enjoy his stories. They’re disturbingly haunting, though, and for that reason they tend to stay with you while their lesser counterparts have long since fled your memory. They also provide rich fodder for reading groups and dinner parties.

Hardy appears to construct his novels in such a way that a character’s missteps condemn him or her for the rest of his life, tainting any possibility of future happiness. Women tend not to fare very well in his stories; children do worse. Whether this was simply typical of the historical period in which he was writing or not, one can certainly contrast his stories with those of his older contemporaries, such as Dickens or Elizabeth Gaskell, in order to find (occasionally) more hopeful visions.

Once again, I won’t offer spoilers from “Gabriel’s Inferno,” but I will say that I believe in both hope and redemption and these elements are intrinsic to the story.

I will also point out that one can enjoy the novel without being familiar with the literary references. Nevertheless, if one is looking for clues as to the successive mysteries, the artistic elements are the first place one should look.

All the best everyone and thanks for reading,
SR

PS. I’ve been gratified to learn of a number of different book clubs that are reading “Gabriel’s Inferno.” Please contact me to let me know of others. I’m hoping to be able to do something special for each club.

Literature – “The Hobbit”

Dear Everyone,


As I mentioned last post , I believe that adults can enjoy children’s literature as much as children. Along those lines, I’ve included references to at least two children’s books in my novel, Gabriel’s Inferno.

One of my favourite authors is J.R.R. Tolkien. He was a friend and colleague of C.S. Lewis and a member of the Inklings. The Inklings used to meet for drinks and discussions at The Eagle and Child pub in Oxford, which is affectionately called The Bird and Baby by locals. If you’re ever in Oxford, order your pint and go straight to the back room. If you close your eyes while you sample your beer, you’ll feel the ghosts of the Inklings poking you in the shoulder. You might even hear them whispering. (I’ll save what they said to me for another post.)

In Gabriel’s Inferno, there is a scene in which the heroine, Julia Mitchell, refers to another character as Gollum. In Julia’s mind, she is caught in a struggle with Gollum for the Precious. Both references are taken from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. This work, perhaps more so than The Lord of the Rings trilogy, is a children’s book.
For my purposes, there are at least two interesting things about the character of Gollum. First, he begins his life as something like a Hobbit. By the time we are introduced to him in the story, he’s a monster. Tolkien has some interesting ideas about the effects of evil on a creature’s character and physical appearance as evidenced by Gollum’s history. Second, Gollum has an inordinate attachment to the Ring, which he calls his Precious. The passages in which Tolkien gives the reader access to Gollum’s internal musings are truly frightening.

In a few pages, Tolkien contributes a fascinating account of single-minded obsession and it’s damaging effects. There are others in literature, such as the the shades that inhabit Dante’s Inferno, but Tolkien’s contribution is probably my favourite and certainly one of the clearest. (Parenthetically, it must be noted that there is a bit of sarcasm attached to my usage of these references in Gabriel’s Inferno. Readers will need to decide for themselves how precious The Precious actually is.)

All the best and thanks for reading,
SR

Literature – “The Velveteen Rabbit”

Dear Everyone,

C.S. Lewis dedicated The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe to his Goddaughter, Lucy Barfield, when she was fifteen years old.

Lucy lived a remarkable life. She was adopted by Owen Barfield, a member of the Inklings, and became a Goddaughter to Lewis. At age thirty, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and subsequently lived many years as a shut-in. Lewis made her famous by not only dedicating the story to her, but by naming the heroine, Lucy Pevensie, after her. After the book’s publication, children from around the world wrote to “the real Lucy” through Lewis’ publishers. While she was confined to her bed, Lucy endeavoured to reply to each and every letter, deriving much comfort and cheer from her correspondence with the world’s children.
In the dedication, Lewis points out that children grow faster than books and so Lucy will be too old to read fairy tales when the story is published. However, he writes, there will come a day when she will be old enough to read fairy tales again and he hopes that on that day she’ll read his story …
The words of Lewis’ dedication have stayed with me since I read them many years ago. His point might be sociological – perhaps older people are comfortable enough to be past caring what guests think of the reading materials displayed on their coffee tables. Or perhaps, and more likely, his observation is that adults can enjoy some children’s stories as much as children and maybe more.

(I’ve wondered what Lewis would have made of the recent explosion in the young adult genre of contemporary fiction. What would he have thought of Harry Potter? His Dark Materials? The Hunger Games?) (I’ve also wondered, in my more wicked moments, what his fellow Inkling, J.R.R. Tolkien, would have thought of the paranormal and fantasy books… )

So it is with Lewis’ wisdom that I have included references to children’s books in my novel, Gabriel’s Inferno. Over the course of the next few Tuesdays, I’ll be offering a few words about those books. (There is a Lucy in my story, too. See if you can find her)

The first book I’d like to mention is Margery Williams’ The Velveteen Rabbit. You can download an electronic version of this story from Amazon.com for free.

In Gabriel’s Inferno, one of the characters likens Julia Mitchell to the velveteen rabbit. Without posting spoilers, I’ll allow you to come to your own conclusion about how accurate the characterization is.

I will say, however, that there are at least two pieces of wisdom included in Williams’ story that adults will appreciate. First, there is the observation about how love changes one’s perception of something. Things, and even people, become more beautiful when we love them. Second, there is the observation that love somehow makes a thing real. Love has the power to transform something or someone into something very special. In her story, Williams says that this transformation is permanent. Once something becomes Real, she writes, it can’t become un-Real.

C. S. Lewis was very wise to remind his Goddaughter (and us) that some of the greatest wisdom in the world can be found in a simple fairy tale.

All the best and thanks for reading,
SR
PS. News related to Gabriel’s Inferno is posted on my Facebook page and also through my Twitter account.

If your book club decides to read Gabriel’s Inferno, will you drop me a line and let me know? If you’re looking for a place to discuss the book (and also the postings I’m placing here on my website), there is an online reading group on Goodreads you can join.

Art – Fra Filippo Lippi “Madonna with Child and Two Angels”

Dear Everyone,


In one of the scenes in “Gabriel’s Inferno,” two of the characters visit the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto in order to view a visiting exhibition of Florentine art.
(Parenthetically, it should be noted that the snarky narrator does not like the recent renovations to the ROM and he says so, in his own inimitable way.)
The painting I chose to highlight in that scene is Fra Filippo Lippi’s “Madonna with Child and Two Angels,” which was painted in 1465.
Fra Lippi, (1406-1469), lived a very colourful life. After he was orphaned, he was placed under the care of the Carmelites and eventually became a friar. At the height of his career, Fra Lippi enjoyed the patronage of Cosimo de’ Medici. The Medici were, perhaps, the most powerful family in Florence. Fra Lippi’s most famous student was Sandro Botticelli.
The life of a friar did not appeal to Lippi and he caused a great scandal by running off with a nun, Lucrezia Buti. His seduction of the young and lovely Lucrezia began when he asked her to model for a painting of the Virgin Mary. Despite the attempts of her father to recover her, Lucrezia remained with Fra Lippi and bore him a son, Filippo (c. 1457-1504). Filippo the younger became the great artist known as Filippino Lippi, who was an assistant to Botticelli.

(It’s possible that Filippino is mentioned obliquely in “Gabriel’s Inferno.”)
Look at the painting. One of the first things to notice is the way in which the artist has painted Mary’s halo and veil. They’re transparent. Note also the way in which the figures are situated in layers – Mary and the Child and angels appear to be sitting outside the picture frame, while a landscape looms behind them. The figures, the frame and the landscape provide perspective and dimensionality to the painting.
But what is far more interesting is the way in which Mary is positioned. Her head is bowed in reverence.

Follow her eyes. Is she staring at her child?

No. She’s bowed in reverence and staring at one of the angels, who smiles knowingly at someone outside the painting. Perhaps he’s smiling at the artist, himself.

Why isn’t Mary looking at the Christ child?

Some have hypothesized that the model for Mary was Lucrezia, Fra Lippi’s lover, and that the model for the smiling angel was Filippino, their son. One could theorize that the reason why Lucrezia isn’t focused on the Christ child is because her true son is in the picture. Her attention and focus is on him. (I’m sure one could make much more of this by pointing out that Lucrezia eschewed the life of a nun and a nun’s attachment to Christ in order to pursue a life with Fra Lippi. Her shift in attachment is signified in the painting.)

In future posts, I’ll take a closer look at some of the literary references in “Gabriel’s Inferno.”

All the best everyone and thanks for reading,
SR

Art – Rembrandt’s “The Return of the Prodigal Son”

Dear Everyone,


As I mentioned previously, art plays a very important role in my novel, “Gabriel’s Inferno.” Without posting spoilers, I’ll simply point out that sometimes the mention of a particular painting carries with it either a back story or an element of foreshadowing.
There is a scene, for example, in which I mention Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son. Rembrandt’s painting illustrates a story from the Bible – Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son, which is told in the Gospel according to St. Luke 15:11-32. There are at least two interpretations of the parable. In the most common reading, the focus is on the Prodigal, himself, and how he wastes his inheritance indulging in sin until he is humbled completely. When he returns to his father, his father welcomes him and forgives him. The second reading focuses on the Prodigal’s brother, the son of constancy. While the Prodigal is wasting his inheritance on prostitutes and indulging (no doubt) in all seven deadly sins, the son of constancy is working faithfully on his father’s farm. His reaction to the Prodigal’s return is less than warm. The story closes with his father’s admonishment to join in the rejoicing over the Prodigal’s return and not to demand rough treatment for the brother, who no doubt justly deserves it.

The parable is short but powerful and it provides a twin message for all human beings, regardless of religion: the message of forgiveness for those who seek it and the message of mercy for those who need to do the forgiving. Yes, the son of constancy’s impulse was toward justice – the just punishment of his brother’s moral failings. But it is the impulse of the father – forgiveness and mercy – that is praised in the story. Sometimes it is better to forego justice for mercy, even though such a choice is inherently difficult.

Rembrandt captures a key moment from the parable and although the painting is static, it vibrates with emotion. He doesn’t retell the story frame by frame. He chooses a single instant, but in so doing he tells you what he thinks is important in the parable.

A writer can do the same thing by including art in a novel. The artwork doesn’t have to retell the story, it only has to highlight a key message or moment. Once again, I’ll allow the readers to decide for themselves what those moments are.

The response to the release of my book has been overwhelming. Thank you. And thank you to those who are sharing the story with friends and family. I treasure book recommendations from friends and so I’m honoured that you would recommend my book to others.

All the best and thanks for reading,
SR
PS. If you’re interested, I’m on twitter. I’m also on Facebook.
Some of the readers over on Goodreads have begun a discussion group for “Gabriel’s Inferno.” Anyone can join, at any time.

Connect with Sylvain

About The Author

fluer-de-lisI am honoured to have had all three of my novels appear on the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists. I was a Semifinalist for Best Author in the 2011 and 2012 Goodreads Choice Awards. {More About Sylvain}

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