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“Thank you. It was a story that she wanted to tell. But we had a very good rapport, and I think that helped.”
“It must have done.” Vincent smiles. “She told us that you were a lovely ‘ghost.’ ” He puts his hand in the bag again. “But I was at the farm last week and told my mother that I’d be seeing you today …” He takes out a small parcel and hands it to me. “Before I left, she asked me to give you this.”
I look at it, puzzled, as he hands it to me. “What is it?” It feels heavy.
Vincent shrugs. “I’ve no idea. She’d already wrapped it and wouldn’t say. She just said that it was something she wants you to have.”
I untie the string, and as the paper falls away, my heart skips a beat.
“She wants me to have this?” I murmur.
“She does.” Vincent looks at it. “Is this the lizard that she talks about in the book?”
“It is.” It gleams softly in my hand.
“Then I know how much it’s meant to her.”
I try to speak, but the words won’t come. “Please thank her,” I manage to say. “I’ll write to her, but please, please thank her, and tell her that I shall treasure it.”
“I will. She’ll be happy to know that I saw you; you’re looking very well.”
“You are,” Nina says. “You’re positively glowing, Jenni.” I smile, still gazing at the lizard, unable to believe that Klara had wanted to give me something so precious. I force myself to tune back in to the rest of the conversation. Nina is asking Rick about the house that we’re interested in. “You were going to tell us about it,” she says.
“Oh yes,” he answers. “Well … the house itself is nothing special—it’s just modern—but the garden is fantastic, with a big, wide lawn. It’ll be great for entertaining,” he adds, but I know that Rick is really thinking, longingly, of children, playing and laughing. And I can see them too. But now, instead of fading like ghosts, they’re running toward us. Running across the grass.
I open my arms.
IN MEMORY OF MY MOTHER
Acknowledgments
In the U.K., I would like to thank Thalia Suzuma, for her brilliant editorial guidance and for her unfailing support of me as a writer. I’m also grateful to Kate Elton, Martha Ashby, Claire Palmer, Katie Moss, Jaime Frost, and everyone at HarperCollins. Huge thanks, as always, to my agent, Clare Conville, and to the team at Conville & Walsh. In the United States, I’m indebted once again to my wonderful editor at Random House, Kate Miciak, for her invaluable editorial input and for her inspiring enthusiasm and warmth. At Random House I would also like to thank Evan Camfield, Julia Maguire, and Margaret Wimberger. Maria Adriana Boerstra and Louise Staël von Holstein generously shared with me their memories of internment on Java in camps Solo, Muntilan, Ambarawa, Tjihapit, Kampung Makassar, and Tjideng. In Cornwall I’m grateful to Charlotte and Simon Taffinder of Curgurrell Farm for illuminating me about life on a coastal farm, and to Robert Pepper of the National Coastwatch at Pednvadan Point for telling me about tides. I’m indebted to my friends and neighbors at Rosevine, especially Jo and Alan Mullet, Jane and Julian Noad, and Tim and Hazel Brocklebank at the Rosevine Hotel. Roland Bosch corrected the Dutch translations, and Louise Clairmonte and Eliana Howarth kindly read the manuscript along the way. Finally, huge thanks and love to my very patient and indulgent family—Greg, Alice and Edmund, and Freddie and George.
The following books provided helpful background during the course of my research:
Archer, Bernice. The Internment of Western Civilians Under the Japanese 1941–1945: A Patchwork of Internment. Hong Kong University Press.
Berg, Jan. My P.O.W. Story. Published by Jan (John) Berg.
Bonga, Dieuwke Wendelaar. Eight Prison Camps: A Dutch Family in Japanese Java. Ohio University Press.
Crofts, Andrew. Ghostwriting. A & C Black.
Hillen, Ernest. The Way of a Boy: A Memoir of Java. Penguin Books.
Hollander, Inez. Silenced Voices: Uncovering a Family’s Colonial History in Indonesia. Ohio University Press.
Huie, Shirley Fenton. The Forgotten Ones: Women and Children Under Nippon. Angus and Robertson/HarperCollins.
Kogel, Paula. The House at Ampasiet. Matador.
Krancher, Jan A., editor. The Defining Years of the Dutch East Indies 1943–1949. McFarland & Company.
Leffelaar, Hendrik L. Through a Harsh Dawn. Frederick Muller.
Ockerse, Ralph, and Evelijn Blaney. Our Childhood in the Former Colonial Dutch East Indies. Ralph Ockerse and Evelijn Blaney Publishing.
Oort, Boudewijn van. Tjideng Reunion: A Memoir of World War II on Java. Trafford Publishing.
Pilgrim, Phyllis. The Hidden Passport. Pilgrim Publishing.
Priesman-Bogaardt, Louise. Dark Skies Over Paradise. Trafford.
Tyrer, Nicola. Stolen Childhoods: The Untold Story of the Children Interned by the Japanese in the Second World War. Weidenfeld and Nicolson.
Wilbrink, Jannie. Java Lost: A Child Imprisoned. Parts 1 and 2. Friesen Press.
BY ISABEL WOLFF
Shadows Over Paradise
The Very Picture of You
A Vintage Affair
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ISABEL WOLFF was born in Warwickshire and read English at Cambridge. A Sunday Times bestseller, she is the author of nine previous novels, published in twenty-nine languages. She lives in London with her family.
www.isabelwolff.com
Facebook.com/isabelwolffofficial
@IsabelWolff
Shadows Over
Paradise
ISABEL WOLFF
A Reader’s Guide
A Conversation with Isabel Wolff
Random House Reader’s Circle: What drew you to write about what happened in Java during World War II?
Isabel Wolff: When planning my novels, I always start with what the heroine does for a living, because from this, everything else will flow. Once I knew that Jenni would be a ghostwriter, I had to work out what the story that she “ghosts” was going to be. I decided that it would be a wartime memoir, not of the conflict in Europe, which has been written about so much, but of the war in the East instead. I’ve always been very interested in the Pacific war. I remember, as a child, learning that my parents’ friend Dennis had been a POW on the Burma-Thailand Railway. My mother told me, in hushed tones, that Dennis had suffered terribly and seen “dreadful things,” although she didn’t want to say what those things might have been. As a teenager I used to avidly watch the TV drama Tenko, about a group of British and Australian women interned in a jungle camp on Sumatra. I was moved by their struggle against disease, malnutrition, and the capricious cruelty of their captors. I was also fascinated by their desire to help one another but also, at times, to betray one another. And I’d read A Town Like Alice, set in occupied Malaya, a novel that has stayed with me all my life. So I decided that my ghostwritten story would be a memoir of internment in the Far East. There were many locations in which it could have been set: civilian men, women, and children were interned right across the region, in Singapore, the Philippines, China, Malaya, and Hong Kong. I decided to set the novel in the Dutch East Indies, on Java, where the camps were most numerous. They were also, by and large, the worst.
RHRC: Parts of Klara’s and Jenni’s stories are very painful to read. Were they painful to write too?
IW: They were, largely because I write in the first person and so I have to “become” my characters in order to convey what they’ve been through in a believable way. Klara’s story required a great deal of research. First I interviewed two women who had been interned on Java as children and whose memories of the camps were still vivid, seventy years on. I also read the memoirs of Dutch survivors, whose accounts of the appalling conditions, cruel treatment, and the atrocious train transports were distressing. So I immersed myself in their remembered world of a paradise that had become a living hell, and into this I placed the fictional characters of Klara and Peter and their parents, the Jochens, a
nd the vengeful Mrs. Dekker. Jenni’s story was also painful to write, but in a different way: She is a captive too, though her prison is an internal one of profound remorse at the fatal mistake she made on the beach that day.
RHRC: Was it difficult writing from two very different women’s points of view? Who did you feel closest to, Klara or Jenni?
IW: I didn’t find it difficult because I was so interested in them both. I knew that I’d simply have to inhabit their characters completely in order to summon their memories and feelings as though they were my own. In Klara’s case this meant doing the detailed historical research about her life in Holland and on Java, which would enable me to relate to what had happened to her in an authentic way. I felt close both to Klara and Jenni, because, like them, I have lost a brother, and know all too well their sense of irreparable loss, the feeling that a part of one’s very self has been wrenched away.
RHRC: Klara and Jenni are thrown together by a twist of fate, or by random chance. On the surface they seem to have little in common, but memories play an important part in both their lives. Was memory—its function, its legacy—something that you particularly wanted to explore in the novel? How powerful do you think it can be in forming personalities, forming lives?
IW: It’s true that these two women, one old, one young, seem to have little in common. However, as the interviews progress, they realize that they do. The twist of fate that reunites them is Jenni’s meeting Klara’s son Vincent at the wedding. Despite the mental terrors that Polvarth holds for her, Jenni decides to return, in order to confront the past, and to try and lay to rest the ghost that has haunted her for twenty-five years. So yes, memory is a key theme, particularly how we cope—or don’t cope—with very difficult memories. Jenni has chosen a job that lets her take refuge in the memories of others, because her own memories are a source of such pain. The novel is also about the power of memory, in that we are our memories—the sum total of all our experiences, held in our minds, to be retrieved and reflected upon, making us behave in this way or that. If dementia takes away our memories, it robs us of our personality too.
RHRC: Klara is quite literally a prisoner. Jenni is a bit of a prisoner too, in a prison of her own making. Do you think many people are trapped by the burden of guilt? How does one break free?
IW: Klara has been imprisoned by an occupying force, but Jenni has been imprisoned by her own conscience. She feels completely culpable for what happened to Ted. That tragedy and its legacy have shaped her personality, making her gravitate toward the shadows, concealing herself, happy that few people even know her name. It has also led her to shun family life, because she believes that she doesn’t deserve to have a child. I felt very sorry for Jenni. In real life, perhaps therapy would have helped her come to terms with what happened. But she exists in a novel, and I decided that Klara would help her start to break free of her past, enabling her to view the tragedy in a different way.
RHRC: You describe Cornwall and Java in great detail. Are these places you know well? Are some locations in the novel fictional?
IW: The rubber plantation, Sisi Gunung, is made up, but all the other places on Java are real and are described from my research, and from a trip I made to Java. Polvarth is fictional but is based on the coastal hamlet of Rosevine, where I spend many holidays. Trennick is modeled on the fishing village of Portscatho, nearby. The Cotswold village of Nailsford and the Church of Saint Jude are invented, and I created one or two of the characters that feature in Tjideng. Lieutenant Sonei, Mrs. Cornelisse, Mrs. Nicholson, and the Korean guard Oohara all existed, but I have invented Sergeant Asako and Lieutenant Kochi. I have also transposed the worst punishments from camps Kampung Makassar, Banyu Biru, and Ambarawa to Camp Tjideng.
RHRC: How long did the novel take you to write, and were you consumed with thoughts of the Second World War in the Far East all the time you wrote it?
IW: The novel took eighteen months to write, largely because of all the historical research that I had to do. I was fairly obsessed by thoughts of the war in the Far East. I’d close my eyes and try to imagine what it must have been like to be in a house with eighty or even a hundred other people, with no possibility to be alone, in peace and quiet. I tried to imagine the hunger that prompted these desperately thin women to write out recipes for delicious dishes that they knew they would never get to eat. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have my head shaved, or to stand at tenko for hours at a time with a child in my arms. What these many thousands of women endured is not widely known; I wanted to write a novel that would have their ordeal, and their courage, at its heart.
RHRC: In some ways Shadows Over Paradise is a departure from your previous novels. For one thing, the main thrust of the novel isn’t a love story. Was this intentional?
IW: Shadows Over Paradise is first and foremost a story of survival, and so to have focused on romance would have felt wrong. Having said this, there is some romance—the growing love between Arif and Susan, for example, and the faltering relationship between Jenni and Rick. But the main thrust of the novel is about how women coped in such atrocious conditions, how they kept sane, not knowing where their husbands and sons were, or if they were even alive. It’s also about how they tried to maintain decent standards of behavior when they were living with so much fear, and when every basic comfort had been taken away. As for Shadows Over Paradise being a departure from my previous novels, this is true. The earlier romantic comedies such as The Making of Minty Malone, Out of the Blue, and Rescuing Rose have given way to stories in which I blend present and past. This is something that began with A Vintage Affair and continued with The Very Picture of You. Shadows Over Paradise maintains that process of change. I very much hope that the readers of my earlier books will enjoy these later, semi-historical novels too.
RHRC: For those who would like to get to know more about Java in the time of the Second World War, what resources would you recommend?
IW: I’ve listed many books on the subject of the Japanese occupation of Java. Of these, I particularly recommend Jannie Wilbrink’s Java Lost, Boudewijn van Oort’s excellent and scholarly Tjideng Reunion, and Ernest Hillen’s moving memoir, Way of a Boy. There are also some very informative websites, notably Elizabeth van Kampen’s Dutch East Indies site, www.dutch-east-indies.com; the East Indies Camp Archives, www.indischekamparchieven.nl; and the Tjideng Camp website, members.iinet.net.au/~vanderkp/tjideng.html.
Questions for Discussion
1. Jenni and Klara each suffer the loss of a sibling early in life. Compare and contrast the circumstances surrounding these tragic losses.
2. Jenni carries a heavy burden of guilt and responsibility over Ted’s death; do you think her feelings of guilt are justified? Does the fact that she acted out of anger on the day Ted died influence your feelings?
3. What choice would you have made if faced with Klara’s decision in the camp? What do you make of Klara’s mother’s assessment that her choice was motivated by a self-interested desire to preserve the protection and support of her mother?
4. How would you react if you learned a life-changing and long-concealed secret about a close friend or lover? Would you, like Rick, feel a renewed sense of tenderness and closeness toward that person? Or would you, as Jenni feared, question whether you could ever really know the person at all?
5. Jenni and Klara both feel haunted by the memories of their brothers. What do you make of this? Do you believe in ghosts?
6. Who, if anyone, was responsible for Peter’s fate?
7. In a relationship, how much would you be prepared to compromise in order to be with the person you love? What do you think of Rick’s choice to give up his dream of being a father in order to be with Jenni?
8. Compare and contrast Jenni and Klara’s responses to the traumatic events of their childhoods. In what ways did their experiences shape the course of their adult lives?
9. Why do you think Jenni chose to return to Polvarth? W
ould you have taken the job, if you were in her position?
10. Jenni’s ability to form attachments and maintain close relationships was heavily influenced by the early loss of her brother. What, if anything, could she or those around her have done differently to mitigate the impact of her brother’s death?
11. In reading about life in the Japanese-run internment camps during World War II, what feelings came up for you? What was your or your ancestors’ experience during this tumultuous period in the world’s history?
12. What did you think of the Dutch people’s reaction to the colonials when they returned after the war?
13. Discuss the significance of Flora’s lizard to Klara and to Jenni.
14. What do you think of Mrs. Dekker’s actions? The women in the camp are described as often fighting with one another and turning on one another. Did you find this surprising?
15. This story focuses a good deal on memory; how important do you think memory is in forming a person?
16. Klara defines paradise as a walled garden. What do you think of this? How do you think Jenni would define paradise? What does paradise mean to you?