Wayne Holloway-Smith
speaker
351 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Jun 2026
last heard 24 Jun
Wayne Holloway-Smith’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
Trend
recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Jun 2026 with 1.
Appearances
But what Sandeep said was she kind of described it a little bit as like a dismembered lyric.
And I think what she was talking about is that part of the book is the narrator kind of projects the mind back into the home environment and the mind's kind of looking from...
the wall or the ceiling or the floor or whatever.
And it's a lens through which we get snapshots of the boy's experience.
And that kind of oscillate is a retoggle between that and like a more sort of chronological delineation of the mother's life.
And moving between those two, probably, like, hopefully, like, halfway into the book, we sort of... Those two characters land in some kind of temporal proximity with each other.
And then alongside that, there's...
a more kind of macro level understanding of the narrative that sort of develops through the use of shadow puppetry.
And then the last thing to say is that there's these fragments of
a mother's bed the mother the mum sort of like tells this the son a bedtime story and we get little bits about the bedtime story is about uh a rabbit and uh his friend he's a little girl who they kind of like dream of running away to a river a magic river and um i guess that's a fiction through which the boy tries to understand his own experience
so often the boy would be referred to as the rabbit in the narrative.
I'll just read a couple of bits.
I should probably put my glasses on.
I was really worried, like last night I woke up
Rebecca will tell you because she didn't sleep because I kept waking up and I was thinking, oh God, I've got to hold a microphone.
And how would you like hold a microphone and turn pages of a book?
I'm just going to read the opening sort of section and this is what you'll see.
Perhaps all language begins here, 24 Colebrook Street, and the mind caught between its layers of wallpaper, or the mind pulled like carpet across the floorboards, creaked and cranking grey, immaculate, horrible carpet stretched over a home grown badly, filled up with thinking.
He sat there, it says,
Broiling in his bitter dad chair And the mother, she sat there, the mind says Without daring a look back over her shoulder The TV on, the washing out The whole house holding its breath
Showing 41–60 of 351 · page 3 of 18
← Previous
Next →