beautiful monsters

Three Sketches

Another exercise from one of my courses - we had to write three "snapshots" of someone we know. I've chosen my great aunt Chris.

Christine Cole Catley – Perpetual Life!

Snapshots at the Party

1

A photographer himself, he resents the camera
but he’s giving his grudging consent for this occasion.
One chance, one snap, that’s all you’ve got.

He has an echo of her smile.
It’s as though her lips have closed on marvellous secrets
her eyes are brimming over with stories.

Behind her right shoulder
Michael is turned away from the camera.
Her other son, by affection if not biology.




2

The younger generations crowd around her
vying for her attention.
Hoping to drawer out that vivacious laugh.




3

It’s possibly the only time she’s been lost for words
– but not for long.
“How did you do this?”
The camera captures her mid exclamation.

In her hands, “Christine Cole Catley, the First Eighty Years.”
All her children gathered around her
grinning triumphantly.




4

Wineglass in hand, head thrown back in laughter
she looks as buoyant as any of her grandchildren.






A fruitful life

We thought of choosing gooseberries,
until we heard they’d been infiltrated
by raspberries in gooseberry jackets.
You can’t tell who to trust these days.
- Fleur Adcock

During a stint in advertising Chris was asked to come up with a new name for “Chinese Gooseberries.” In the climate of suspicion and animosity resulting from the Cold War, “it was quite out of the question for New Zealand to export a communist fruit,” says Chris, shaking her head in disbelief.

Chris came up with a long list of names, including Love Berry and Fuzzy Berry. Right at the end, in desperation, she added Kiwi Berry. Soon after, New Zealand began exporting Kiwi Fruit. Fruit connoisseurs around the world have since developed an unnerving habit of abbreviating the name to “Kiwi.” This can be problematic, as the name Kiwi, originally belonging to an endangered species of flightless bird, is also used to refer to the “straight-laced and straight-faced” inhabitants of New Zealand.

Chris is a 5th generation Kiwi herself, and she knows plenty about the subject. She was the author of “the Xenophobe’s Guide to the Kiwis,” a summary of “the character, values and foibles of the Kiwis,” using sweeping generalisations and sharp observations. With Chris’s keen eye and wicked sense of humour, the nation was in good hands.

Chris’s contributions to the country extend far beyond naming the national fruit and encouraging us to laugh at ourselves. She was a passionate and outspoken leader in the early days of Parents Centre New Zealand. When she learned that she was suffering from ME (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) she became a contact and spokesperson for sufferers, and published a book about the condition.

These days Chris is known and loved for her contribution to the literary community. She set up the renowned Wellington creative writing course, founded the Picton Paper, and established a successful publishing company. She has been mentor and role-model and friend for many of the country’s journalists and writers. She is executor of Frank Sargeson’s estate, and chairs the Frank Sargeson Trust which provides fellowships for promising writers. Chris herself hopes to go on writing and publishing until she’s 92. No doubt she’ll cram as much into the next twelve years as many people manage in a lifetime.






Dear Chris

I listened to the first interview in the back of a lecture theatre, with one earphone hidden behind my hand. I wanted to listen to you live, as though I was eavesdropping on your conversation.

You sounded tired, and I worried that age was finally catching up to you; it had been a long Christmas.

I needn’t have worried. A week later I can almost hear your eyes sparkling.

Has Kim Hill ever asked someone back the next week for another interview? It’s a testament to your character. The two of you are like old chums - sometimes it’s hard to discern who the chuckles and exclamations belong to.

I worry that with such a generous circle of family and friends you will not notice me. But once pinned down, you give yourself completely. Your entire attention; the concentration of those eyes, and all that intellect, advice and encouragement, like a gift.

Today you give your attention to Kim and a nation of listeners. You share your anecdotes, your laughter and your firm convictions. But not entirely. I am more interested in the pauses, the stories you choose not to tell. I imagine you are exercising the “compassionate truth.” I wonder if you are showing compassion to yourself, or to others?

You say you are interested in the nature/nurture debate, but all the evidence is with nurture in your presence. Your enthusiasm is infectious; it spreads as rapidly through conversations as it does through bloodlines.

You’re right about funerals. The gratitude should be expressed and the stories told while you are here to enjoy them. So thank you, Chris, for the opportunities you have created. As a writer, as a woman, a grandniece and a friend, I thank you for the contribution you have made to my life.

I don’t know that it’s got much to do with the endocrine system, but you seem to have mastered the “integrity and perpetuity of life”. You have given so much of yourself to your children and your children’s children. Your spirit seems to stride forward for generations.

Posted by Fionnaigh at July 23, 2003 07:40 PM