author profile: tracey farren

Author Tracey Farren spoke to Literary Agent, Ron Irwin, about her new novel, Whiplash published by Modjaji Books.

How did you create a character that seems so real? It's hard to believe that Tess is entirely fictional. She has a particularly clear, consistent voice.
It started with an essence of personality. There was a little girl I knew when I was five. She had a terrible family life, and early on showed something both metallic and melancholy. I heard, much later, that she had become a prostitute. During my research for Whiplash, I came to know a friendly, yet fiery sex worker. She had a similar fighting spirit. This beautiful woman was murdered by a client when I had just started writing Whiplash. Tess somehow became imbued with the murdered woman's loving, stroppy presence. Early on Tess began to dictate to me in street slang. Whenever I tried to correct her, my own voice appeared on the page as a prim interruption. I learned to shut up early on. Tess's physical characteristics quickly 'dressed' her personality. Her voice gave rise to a particular skin tone, a particular configuration of teeth. Even her ironing habits evolved from her distinctly determined character.

Whiplash is a story of spiritual redemption. The thread of salvation runs in odd parallel with Tess's repeated traumas. Why did you choose to write her recovery as so difficult and disturbing?
I wanted to keep it realistic. The violent incidents were directly drawn from my research in the streets. In fact, I diluted the violence to make the book bearable. The daily life of a street prostitute in Cape Town is even more dangerous than Whiplash depicts, but I kept Tess's context as close as I could to reality.

I also wanted to keep her personal transformation realistic. Old habits die hard and the most stubborn habits are thought habits. Tess catches glimpses of her sacred self, but fights her shift in identity. Twenty six years of self hatred refuses to dissolve overnight. In some strange way, Tess knows she is trying to deny her new insight. She hits the road harder, she puts her body at risk to try and reaffirm that she is a disposable commodity, not a precious, perfect spirit. The destructive part of her relishes her suffering. It tries to deny the inviolable Tess - the essence of Tess before she was ruined by dysfunctional parents, before she sought pitiful worth by selling herself, before she popped pills to 'take the edge off' her earthly ordeal. Each tiny spiritual shift is an inexorable movement forwards, however. The despairing moments where Tess simply 'gives up' become precious windows to the truth. She senses something else inside her, something that bears no resemblance to a frightened child or a mocking prostitute. It possesses the beauty of a bird in flight and brings a peace more divine than any chemical high. With typical, human obstinacy, Tess tries to deny her wild discovery. She continues to seek trauma, but now even her suffering transmutes into freedom.

On one level Whiplash seems to be saying that suffering brings enlightenment. On another, it seems to critique this notion. Can you explain your intention?
In terms of Tess's choices, suffering brings renewal. Whiplash does seem to be saying that you must learn the hard way, that only sacrifice leads to resurrection. This is the primary western rule for self improvement. On a more subtle level, Whiplash argues that this kind of hardship is actually quite unnecessary. In fact, these dumb, destructive choices are actually worth a laugh. In a deeper way, Whiplash disputes the concept of original sin. It tries hard to deflate the significance of sacrifice and deliberately glorifies the idea of resurrection.

Either way, Tess does have the choice. Would these same spiritual principles apply to prostitutes or down-and-out people who have less choice than Tess?
Definitely not. There are people who must do sex work to survive. There are also people who are kidnapped and coerced into sex work. These people might take comfort from Tess's discovery that she cannot die. She realises, after a particularly violent attack, that she is not a body. She is a deathless, glorious spirit. But people who are trapped, who have no choice but to keep breathing, have only this to hold on to. Tess needed to have more choices for the polemic of the book to come alive. Also, as a writer, I needed Tess to have choices. The journey would have been too heartbreaking otherwise. Her choices gave me the strength to stick with her on her dangerous journey. I think the readers feel the same way.