Pip Williams was writing a different book, thank you very much, when actress and suffragette Tilda—who features in The Dictionary of Lost Words and The Bookbinder of Jericho—became insistent that it was time for her story to be told. In doing so, Williams unspools the forbidden love story between an English nurse and a German doctor during WWI, and the Australian artist who captured them in her drawings. Here, Williams shares more about her writing and research process, and the real-life women who inspired her latest novel, The German Ward.
Katie O’Connor: When did you first decide that this was the next story you wanted to tell?
Pip Williams: When Tilda insisted! She was a secondary character in my previous novels, The Dictionary of Lost Words and The Bookbinder of Jericho, but she always wanted a leading role. She is an actress and suffragette, so it’s in her nature, but I was more interested in the lives of women who have not captured the historian’s eye.
After my last book, I began writing something completely different. I had written 20,000 words, then someone at a book event asked if I was ever going to write Tilda’s story. Well, that woke her up. Tilda became insistent that her story was far more interesting than I’d originally thought—it wasn’t just the story of an actress-turned-suffragette, it was the story of an actress-turned-suffragette who’d gone to war and fallen in love with an enemy doctor. I had to admit, it was quite a story, and I already knew so much of it—I’d imagined it when I was in the archives of the Australian War Memorial years before. From that moment, Tilda was all I could think about.
Can you talk about the research you did for The German Ward?
The research began with my previous books. Tilda has always been part of the cast of my novels, so I knew who she was; I knew her strengths and weaknesses. When I was writing The Bookbinder of Jericho I sent her to war and she wrote letters to the main characters about her experience as a VAD in the British Army base in Étaples, France. To understand that place and ensure Tilda’s letters rang true, I studied the drawings of an Australian artist who lived in Étaples at the time. Iso Rae had been living there for more than 20 years when war broke out. It was a fishing village and artists’ colony, but when war was declared almost all the artists returned to their homelands. Iso Rae stayed and worked as a volunteer at the army base. In her spare time, she drew what she saw. Her drawings are a wonderful record of that place and time and they became the foundation of my novel—but there is a lot they do not record.
For the experience of women working as VADs and nurses I turned to first-person accounts. Vera Brittain’s Testament of Youth and memoirs by Mary Borden and Ellen La Motte were so important, as were letters and diary entries of women working for the St. John’s hospital, conveniently collated in a wonderful book called Sisters of the Somme, by Penny Starns.
And then, of course, there is the challenge of writing a story about love and desire. It could so easily turn into cliché and cringe and I definitely did not want that. Anne Carson’s book Eros the Bittersweet was a wonderful guide.
Did anything surprise you during the research process?
Yes. Two things in particular. The first was a drawing I was shown on the back of one of Iso Rae’s war pictures. It is a pencil drawing of a woman. She is standing with her feet planted wide and her hands on her hips. She is strong and beautiful and her gaze is direct and almost challenging. There is nothing demure or retiring about her and she reminded me of Tilda. The more I looked at this drawing, the more I thought, "This woman is bracing for something." This novel is all about what Tilda is bracing for.
The second thing that surprised me was how much a deep engagement with visual art can become like a conversation with the artist and the past they inhabited. Like any conversation, it requires time and an open mind. My understanding of Iso Rae’s drawings from WWI changed over the many years I spent with them. When I thought about how her perspective as a woman might influence what she drew and why, the art became far more than observations captured in pastel and charcoal. They became an expression of something personal, subjective, psychological, even. I think these insights helped me to write a better book.
This is your third novel set in the era of the First World War. What keeps you coming back to this particular time in history?
The early 20th century was an extraordinarily dynamic time in history, especially for women. I went there by accident when I was writing about the Oxford English Dictionary, but I have stayed because I keep coming across stories about women that I find fascinating, not only because these stories are poorly documented in histories of that time, but because they speak to our current experiences and concerns.
Is there another era of history that you would consider writing about?
I never set out to be an historical fiction writer, I just set out to write a good story. I think I’d consider writing about any moment in time if the character and their story was compelling.
What does a typical day of writing look like for you?
It’s bliss, really. I wake when I am no longer tired or the birds are making too much of a racket to stay asleep. I do Wordle over breakfast, then I head to my local café. I write for up to four hours, then I do a few chores and go home. A perfect day is one without any other obligations, but if they exist I just slot them in. I do not need a clear slate to write—half an hour will do. If all I manage is a sentence or two I am happy.
Which character from The German Ward has stayed with you the most?
Tilda is still quite present, but I think she is satisfied that her story has been told. Iso Rae is probably the one who stays with me. She was once flesh and blood, but I have had to imagine so much to bring her to life on the page. There was not a lot to work with, but her art spoke to me. I hope I have understood some of what she was trying to say.
Geraldine Hakewill beautifully narrates The German Ward. What do you appreciate about her performance?
This is a book about desire, and Geraldine’s voice and performance are perfect. It is a deep pleasure listening to her narration. Her voice is sensual and soft and there are no sharp notes. Her ability to communicate the longing felt by all the characters permeates the entire reading.
