Life behind the walls we build

Listening to Greta Joyce speak, I am again visited by the notion of how fulfilling it must be to be really truly well-versed in a particular subject. Jane Austen, for example. Every book she’s written, every character she’s created, every plot and every subtext. Especially with the recent resurgence in interest in the writing of Austen. Greta often finds herself giving Jane Austen talks in libraries across the state. The more you read of an author the more you discover about the writer. No matter how carefully a writer tries to avoid it, small parallels crop up in their books proving that it’s always not only about the story or the plot but some elements of those stories and plots feature experiences in the writer’s own life and these get filtered into the characters created — but only careful scrutiny and microscopic observation will throw this up, show it in greater relief. “This is quite natural,” says Greta, “for the book, however fictitious the storyline, is being written by a human hand and the writer’s own feelings, instincts, experiences are more immediate when investing in or creating character.”

Greta is a fluent speaker. Engaging. Having done this for a while now, she has obviously perfected her craft. There’s a fluid quality to her delivery. There’s humour, despite the fact that it’s delivered with a hint of reserve. Greta doesn’t smile easily. To get her to laugh outright would be a major triumph, I guess. But as it is with writers, we all obviously carry our past experiences with us and these in their subtle way fashion our responses — our ability to smile outright or hold the smile in reserve.

Luckily for me, Greta’s sister Lyvia or Livvy, as she’s fondly called, is a friend of mine.

“You’re not going to get much warmth in a one-on-one talk let me advise you straight off,” Livvy tells me, “that’s just Greta, she may like you inside, she may be very fond of you, but boy you’re not going to get to see that very easily. So be warned.” And so indeed it came to pass. Fifteen polite, engaging but certainly distant and cold minutes in the company of an Austen scholar. I was actually looking not for Austen material, but for some background on the Bronte sisters and ended up being very adequately informed and advised. But Greta’s discomfort was plain. It was in the end a bit of a relief for both of us to conclude the brief discussion.

She rose from her seat and — if one can stretch the imagination a bit — almost sprinted away without a glance behind.

“Greta’s carrying her own scars,” says Livvy, “I know everyone tells me how sunshiny I am, but she used to be even sunnier than me when we were little girls. Her laughter could light up a room. Then in her late teens she had the tragic misfortune to meet her own Austen villain — I haven’t read any of Jane’s books so I wouldn’t know their names. This bloke took all my sister’s trust and in the end let her down so badly. He was conducting a secret alliance with another and it only got found out because someone tipped Greta off about it. The fact that others knew about the deception before she found out herself compounded matters, made things worse. Greta just withdrew into herself, built a wall and lived behind it.”

Surely someone must have come along to make her trust again?

“Sure, Greta’s a good-looking woman after all. Men will be attracted to her. But once you get used to living behind a strong wall of distrust, it isn’t easy to climb over and be trusting once more. Especially not if you meet a second person and he too turns out to be just as deceitful. That’s Greta’s life story in a nutshell. As she will tell you, don’t take a fence down until you know why it was put up.”

Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.