AUTHORS INTERVIEWING THEIR CHARACTERS: Fiorella De Maria
An Exclusive with Fr Gabriel
I have always been intrigued by literary detectives and Fr Gabriel has been at the top of my list of sleuths I’d like to meet. English Benedictine and reluctant detective, Fr Gabriel has become a force to be reckoned with in a country struggling to settle down after the horrors of the Second World War.
Fiorella: Fr Gabriel, thank you so much for agreeing to speak to me today.
Gabriel: It’s a pleasure to meet you. I only hope you won’t find me too boring!
Fiorella: I very much doubt it! I’m a great fan of your work and the first thing I have to ask is, did you always want to be a detective?
Gabriel: Certainly not! I grew up reading Sherlock Holmes and I enjoy the stories of the charming Mrs Christie, but I never imagined that I would become a detective myself. Last summer, there was a terrible murder in the grounds of my Abbey. The husband of one of the victims was accused and I just had this gut feeling that he was innocent. I couldn’t bear the thought that he might go to the gallows for another man’s crime. I decided to help him and [laughs nervously] one thing led to another. Once one starts solving crimes, it seems to become a habit.
Fiorella: Speaking of habits, you became a monk quite late in life. What made you decide to enter a monastery?
Gabriel: Well, I’m afraid I suffered a terrible tragedy… I suppose I was looking for peace and I spent some time with the Benedictines down in Wiltshire. It was so different to the busy life I had led in London, but I felt I could live a quiet life of prayer and study in such a beautiful place. Wiltshire is so very beautiful, you know.
Fiorella: Your life has hardly been quiet, though, has it?
Gabriel: [laughs] Indeed not! There’s a saying, I believe, ‘if you wish to make God laugh, tell him your future plans.’ Life has not been quite as quiet as I had hoped, but I would not have it any other way.
Fiorella: What aspect of your new life do you find hardest?
Gabriel: Obedience! Sadly, I have always struggled to obey rules, even when I was at school. It is my greatest fault and one of the reasons why I was sent away from the Abbey for a while. I hope to return one day.
Fiorella: Could you tell me something about your methods? You don’t go around with a magnifying glass, do you?
Gabriel: [laughs] Dear me, no! I don’t own such a thing, unless you count the glass that comes with the Oxford English Dictionary. I’m not sure I have a methodology as such, it comes down to instinct much of the time. As a priest, one spends a lot of time with people, particularly in times of difficulty. It gives one the chance to observe human behaviour and one starts to notice if a person is behaving evasively or inconsistently. One gets a feel for when a story does not ring true –
Fiorella: Like a policeman?
Gabriel: No, no, noooo! I should have made a frightful policeman. I’d feel guilty every time I had to arrest a man. I suppose…well, I listen to what I am told. It’s harder than one thinks to lie consistently. If a person makes up a story, eventually he will make a mistake and the story will start to unravel.
Fiorella: Unlike some detectives, you never seem very happy when you solve a crime. Don’t you feel a sense of excitement when the pieces fit together?
Gabriel: No, not really. I suppose there is the satisfaction of piecing together the puzzle as you have suggested, more than that, a sense that the truth is no longer hidden. Beyond that, though, I find it hard to celebrate when I know that a man or women is going to hang. When a murder has been committed, nobody wins. The dead person cannot be brought back, the family and friends must live with their grief and the guilty person must account for his crime.
Fiorella: You mentioned earlier that you suffered a tragedy. Could you tell me more about that?
Gabriel: I should rather not if you don’t mind. It was a long time ago.
Fiorella: Sorry. What about your childhood? You were a telegram boy during the Great War, weren’t you?
Gabriel: Briefly. I was desperate to help the war effort. It’s hard for a young person to understand how caught up in the excitement we all were, especially young boys, but the work was horrible. The only telegrams we delivered were messages to poor women whose husbands and sons had been killed. We were surrounded by death every day of our lives and then a new generation was forced to go through the same horror. I wish I could offer a Mass for every soul who perished, but that’s impossible.
Fiorella: You said you hope one day to return to your Abbey. What are your immediate plans?
Gabriel: I’ve had to leave my parish because of a spot of bother, but I have been invited back to my Cambridge college for a little holiday and I am much looking forward to visiting old friends.
Fiorella: Thank you for your time.
Gabriel: It was a pleasure.
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Category: Contemporary Women Writers