I have described it, several times, as being a gift; and a gift it truly was and remains.
My little book Joseph and the Three Gifts, An Angel’s Story came to me as a Christmas gift three years ago when I was in the fantastical – it would not, in fact, be an exaggeration to say miraculous – city of Venice. Venezia: Italy’s legendary island realm, set upon a lagoon and criss-crossed by an elaborate jig-sawed pattern of waterways.
Christmastide in Venice! The story of the first Christmas is ever-present in a city of several hundreds churches; told in magnificent paintings and simple nativity displays found somewhere in every ancient, candlelit place of worship from the equivalent of a village church (for Venice is a collection of villages, separated by canals and linked by bridges) to monumental edifices and, at the city’s heart, the shimmering mosaic-lined Basilica San Marco: a architectural jewel-case symbolising both the once great, now former, glory that was the Venetian empire and the devout Christian faith that was its sustaining life-blood.
No one visits to Venice without receiving a very particular gift, however fleetingly given: the gift of true wonder at the mesmeric vision of a city afloat between sea and sky. But during this particular December stay, Venice gave me an unexpected gift: a story, complete in virtually every detail, birthed on a cold winter’s night and urgently set down before images faded.
It was the story of good man Joseph, the carpenter from Nazareth to whose lot fell the task of being foster father to God’s only Son. Not simply, it transpired, was this Joseph’s story (as told in the Gospels and more besides) but also that of those three gifts of mysterious portent – gold, frankincense and myrrh – presented by the Magi who journeyed from the East in search of a new born king. And then a final discovery (writing is, of course, always a process of discovering): the realisation the teller of this tale was none other than that herald and witness of the Christmas narrative, the Archangel Gabriel.
Back in London, a series of gifted opportunities led to the story becoming a book, published by Darton Longman and Todd. Now, at this new Christmas of 2021 (for Christmas, although more than two thousand-year-old commemoration, always comes anew to hopeful hearts) the gift is to be given afresh: this time as a week’s broadcasts on BBC Radio 4, directed by Martin Jarvis and with Alex Jennings as my angelic storyteller.
As a writer, much of my career has been devoted to bringing the written word alive as the spoken word; and, regardless of whether those words are my own or are owned by far greater talents than I possess – J R R Tolkien, C S Lewis, Mervyn Peake, T H White, Ray Bradbury or John Bunyan – I write always with character voices (all variations of my own of course) running through my head and, often – if you happen to be passing my study door – spoken out loud!
In Joseph, I gave voice to a narrating angel who, in turn, gave voice the story’s central character and now that voice will be heard as the tale is told, day by day through the week of Christmas, ending on that most holy eve when, in the sky above a humble stable, angels sang and the stars danced.
The book is also part of our Christmas sale, where you can get a copy at 40% discount.
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