by Carmel Bird
I should say here that I believe Diana’s work on Federico’s book to be most timely in itself, since the return of the Black Virgin to the consciousness of people in the twenty-first century coincides with a profound need, as I perceive it, to reconcile sexuality and religion. The person of Notre Dame du Sourire is of course very much a part of this.
As for where this my Confession of guilt, if such it is, leaves Rosita, well, I do not know, for I am sorry that she cannot see her prayers answered. However, this is beyond my power and my ken, for perhaps Rosita’s dreams will come true, and perhaps her prayers will be answered, and perhaps the original statue will appear. Perhaps the power of Furta Sacra is as great as or greater than I think it is. Perhaps Rosita’s prayers have already been mysteriously answered.
My one request to you is that you file this letter most carefully with your own most private papers; never forget that, my vocation apart, my profession has been that of archivist, and consequently I am dedicated to the preservation of all documents – a remarkably old-fashioned idea in this day and age, I know. With this request goes the prayer that you will never divulge the contents of this letter unless to do so has, in your judgement, direct bearing upon the return of the True Bambinello, he who was fashioned from the wood of Gethsemane and decorated by the brushes of the angelic painters. I trust your discretion and your judgement in this matter.
God alone knows our Destiny.
I ask you in your charity to pray for me. May the prayers of our beloved St Francis be with you, my dear good Roland, Brother in Christ. I entrust myself to your goodness, and commend your soul to God, that He may in His mercy grant you grace.
Pax et Bonum
+ Cosimo SF
I choose to believe that the soul of Roland the Good went straight to heaven, the little card from Eleena’s funeral pressed into his wallet – Of your charity pray for the repose of her soul. Roland’s death cast a backward shadow on the wedding, which had been joyful to the point of magical, and then somehow this shadow threw the glow and glamour of the wedding into even higher relief.
I was left with the letter and the knowledge. Cosimo’s gift and burden to Roland had become my business. I was left with the open question as to when, if ever, the statue that came from the Holy Land was taken from Santa Maria in Aracoeli. And if so, where might it be now? I could have sent the letter to Roland’s brother Franciscans. I could have maybe taken it to the Roman police. I thought this was out of the question, as it seemed to me that the whole affair was domestic, not criminal. I could be wrong.
I could have sent it to the people in Texas. This idea had a certain appeal, since as it turned out it was really they who had set the whole affair in motion. No, I hope you can see that my role in the matter was to publish the letter in the hopeful context of fiction, thereby displaying it to a world that can believe or not believe. I discovered that, just as the crypt full of statues of the Holy Child at Le Sourire was the perfect place to put the Bamb, fiction is the perfect place to put the facts.
I keep the original letter in my files in the room with the snow globes. I recall the question Roland’s mother asked him just after the Bambinello had disappeared.
‘Did you deliver the letter, Roland?’
I believe Roland delivered the letter to me.
I deliver it to you.
I could go on. I could document the afterlife of the narratives, I could examine the effect all this had on Cora and Rufus, on Callianthe and Salvatore, on Diana, Rosita – on and on forever perhaps, since stories never really end, and what you get in a book is just one of those slices of eternity my grandfather used to say he told. What about the old-fashioned and naturally conceived child of Corazón and Rufus? Is he named Xavier? I imagine so. I should ask Avila, since she knows more about these things than I do; keeping up her prayer list is routine for her. Does the child have the second name of Montserrat in honour of the way Corazón felt when she visited the Black Virgin? Xavier Montserrat Gigli-Mean. There is no reason why he should not have that name, although it is something of a mouthful. When does he cut his first tooth, utter his first word, tell his first lie?
I believe my own purpose is served. I have told you the love story, and I have unravelled the original mystery of the golden and miraculous Bambinello, who may or may not be languishing yet in a holding cell at Sotheby’s, or who may or may not have existed in the first place. I must draw the line, must take you out of the lives of these people. I have navigated you to this point, and now the story bids me farewell. So there you have it, as Frank used to say, and the end of the story is the end of the world in miniature.
You may join the faithful such as Avila and Callianthe and Rosita and pray for those who have died. Pray for Cosimo, Eleena, Federico, Roland and baby Xavier. You could perhaps pray for the tragic Woolf family who perished on the level crossing. ‘Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon them.’ You may be praying, writing letters to the Bambinello, asking for a happy future outcome for your own personal ART enterprise. May your oocyte be sweetly receptive, may your spermatozoon joyfully go the distance.
Only time will tell.
Ever,
Sydney Peony Kent, Navigator.
Acknowledgements
The author is grateful for the assistance of a grant from the Literature Board of the Australia Council.
About the author
Carmel Bird’s novels include Red Shoes, The White Garden and The Bluebird Cafe, all of which were shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Award. Her novel Cape Grimm was published by HarperCollins in 2004. Carmel has published several volumes of short stories, including The Essential Bird—The Very Best Stories from Carmel Bird, and three guides to writing fiction: Dear Writer, Not Now, Jack—I’m Writing a Novel and, most recently, Writing the Story of Your Life—The Ultimate Guide. She has also edited several anthologies including The Stolen Children—Their Stories.
Her website is www.carmelbird.com
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Also by Carmel Bird
Novels
Cape Grimm
Red Shoes
The White Garden
The Bluebird Café
Crisis
Unholy Writ
Open For Inspection
Cherry Ripe
Short Story Collections
The Essential Bird—The Very Best Stories from Carmel Bird
Automatic Teller
The Common Rat
The Woodpecker Toy Fact
Births, Deaths and Marriages
Anthologies
The Penguin Century of Australian Stories
The Stolen Children—Their Stories
Red Hot Notes
Daughters and Fathers
Relations—Australian Short Stories
Writing Manuals
Writing the Story of Your Life—The Ultimate Guide
Dear Writer
Not Now Jack—I’m Writing a Novel
Children’s Books
The Cassowary’s Quiz
The Mouth
Copyright
Fourth Estate
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
First published in Australia in 2010
This edition published in 2010
by HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Carmel Bird 2010
The right of Carmel Bird to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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Bird, Carmel, 1940-
Child of the twilight / Carmel Bird.
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