Wonderful author of the Bestselling Haworth family saga, Judith Barrow, is launching her latest novel. The Memory explores a ‘Mother and daughter tied together by shame and secrecy, love and hate.’ I can’t resist books with secrets and know Judith is an expert at weaving these into her narratives. I invited Judith to tell me more about the background to The Memory because I know it is close to her heart and experience.
Much of the background of The Memory is taken from my own memories of when I was carer at different times in my life. With the support of my husband I’ve looked after two aunts. One who lived with us for thirty years before dementia took hold of her – and then, at the same time, her aunt, who came to us when the disease first made its presence known and she had no one else. The idea was that we found a care home for her in Pembrokeshire where we live, but she cried when we left her there. So we brought her home. Physically robust, she lived with us for twelve years. We were four generations under one roof and, looking back I don’t think it did our children any harm. Indeed I think it taught them empathy. And finding the humour in the chaos of living with someone with dementia far outweighed the sadness.
I truly believe that the role of carer for a loved and respected relative with dementia is something that takes over both lives with unseen stealth. The disease steals away the person who affected until they gradually disappear. The carer increasingly and sometimes automatically takes on the role until their whole life revolves around the caring. And, mostly, it’s a mantle that’s taken on willingly.
But it’s hard.
During the years I was a carer I met others whose lives, despite help from any professional bodies, had become a constant round of tiredness and stress. And it was only when the trust was built up between us that the word ‘resentment’ would sometimes be voiced. But spoken of with shame, as though it was a reaction that had no place. After all, most of them were caring for a person who had been a constant presence in their lives as a cherished parent, relative, companion, partner. It was the carer’s time to give back the love – wasn’t it? They had no right to sometimes feel resentful. Or so they believed. I remember the relief to be able to admit it, to relax, to know I wasn’t alone. And to share stories of the ridiculous and bizarre situations we found ourselves in.
I’ve tried to show those two contrasting emotions in The Memory; love and yet resentment. But with Irene Hargreaves, the protagonist, hatred often rears its ugly head. All because on one dreadful memory.
As a child, I escaped to a place known as Pots and Pans in Saddleworth. Pots and Pans, quite high, windy and isolated, is the memorial where the Remembrance Services are held. I used to climb with my first dog when I was eleven to get away from home. It’s where I used to chunter on about the unfairness of anything that was happening. It’s a memorial where memories are kept and/ or shared to the wind. Well, that’s what I always thought. The dog was also a great listener! This is the place where the bones of my books were constructed.
The Memory is a stand alone book about a woman, Irene Hargreaves, who is the career for her mother. One a dark evening in 2001 Irene stands by the side of her mother’s bed and knows it is time. For more than fifty years she has carried a secret around with her; a haunting memory she hasn’t even confided to her husband, Sam, a man she has loved and trusted all her life. But now she must act before he arrives home…
About Judith:
Judith Barrow,originally from Saddleworth, a group of villages on the edge of the Pennines,has lived in Pembrokeshire, Wales, for forty years.
She has an MA in Creative Writing with the University of Wales Trinity St David’s College, Carmarthen. BA (Hons) in Literature with the Open University, a Diploma in Drama from Swansea University and She has had short stories, plays, reviews and articles, published throughout the British Isles and has won several poetry competitions..
She is a Creative Writing tutor for Pembrokeshire County Council and holds private one to one workshops on all genres.
https://www.judithbarrow-author.co.uk/
https://judithbarrow.blogspot.com
https://twitter.com/judithbarrow77
https://www.facebook.com/judith.barrow.3
https://www.honno.co.uk/authors/b/judith-barrow/
Please see all my guests’ posts at Mail from the Creative Community and my website and blog at JessieCahalin.com.
A copy of my novel is available here.
Jaya was born in a place where ‘the tiny mauve and yellow flowers danced in the breeze as the snowy summits of Pin Panjal meditated in the morning sun.’ Despite the beauty and implied freedom and romance of the landscape, the women are inhibited by their culture and the ugly politics of war torn Kashmir. Jaya’s gentle, intelligent observations give an insight into her world as a Kashmiri girl. Her mother asserts ‘you’re a girl’ and believes that ‘love rides on reason, not romance.’ It is clear Jaya is destined to search beyond this and it is impossible not to admire her questioning.
Jaya wishes on a ‘shooting star’ and the author maps out Jaya’s destiny beautifully. The novel explores how the independent, free spirited mind can find flight if given the right opportunities. But the opportunities must be accompanied with an inquiring mind. Jaya’s entrapment in Delhi is as stifling as the intense heat which ‘pressed down on city life like a giant hand.’ Her value, as a potential bride, diminishes once her parents have been killed. She will find a way to escape a doomed arranged marriage – she is born to fight.
Tahir never examines his own world as he is too caught up in the conflict and grudges. The natural ebb and flow of the Jaya’s narrative is enchanting while we never get inside of Tahir’s confused, inhibited mind. The tale of two continents explores cultural difference: it is a wonderful book of contrasts. For instance, the peaceful setting Kashmir Valley translates ‘paradise on earth’ yet it conceals conflict. Jaya questions: ‘How could the landscape be beautiful when Alistair was suffering?’ Like Jaya, one must look beneath the surface.
This novel teaches us to have a respect and understanding of other cultures but we need the freedom to ask questions and pursue our ambition: above all, everyone needs to be loved. ‘Azadi’ (freedom) is a state of mind influenced by opportunities, the people we meet and the strength to ask pertinent questions.