That limestone is used by the townsfolk for terracing and for houses and for the amazing abbey. Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert’s bones are of limestone, since it is in karst country. Saint-Guilhem’s optimism and holiness and gentle chatter makes up for those few idiots. This is just as well, because there are a couple of people in the novel itself who I really don’t like.

Some places and some characters make better housemates than others ? Saint-Guilhem has turned out to be particularly delightful. It’s the friend I’m living with at this moment, the same way the characters of the novel are my friends. My work-in-progress is mostly set in the small French town of Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, so I’ll use that to show you what how I see places and objects now that I’m older, wiser and less set on annoying my siblings. I don’t always name aspects of place, but naming is one of the routes I take into understanding a place or a situation.

Perceval (my late father’s disarticulated skull) and Kai (my antique rug) and Sylvester (a teddy-bear a friend made me, for I lacked one as a child) are not complete in and of themselves. “Why do you name so many things?” It upset her that the inanimate world around me was full of personalities. When I was younger, I was scolded by one of my sisters. I care about their bodies and their crowded possessions and the damage they endure and the patterns of their lives. If you like your places, or even certain household objects imbued with a very distinct Personality, I recommend reading Gillian’s ‘Life Through Cellophane.’ Today we hear from Gillian Polack about Place – and a magical one it is, too.

Masques by Gillian Polack