Ten steps to nanette, p.38
Ten Steps to Nanette, page 38
I don’t remember anything else really. I finished the show. I got a massive standing ovation. Then I got another one, because we had to trick it for the cameras. It was a triumph, as they say. But I didn’t feel as if it was any such thing. I was too overwhelmed by everything to feel or think anything. I just sat alone in my dressing room and let myself melt down.
“How did Mum take it?” I asked KevTrev when he popped in to check on me. I didn’t have a chance to check in on Mum myself, because the turnaround between shows was too tight.
“I couldn’t tell her either!” Kevin reported, incredulous. He told me that he had never met anyone more slippery to an emotional conversation.
“Like quicksilver,” I said.
“Like quicksilver,” he agreed. “Ready to do that all again?”
I was and I did. Like only slow gold could.
As I stood on stage and did it all again, Hamish and Jessica went to a bar and had a stiff drink together. Hamish told me later that it had been really beautiful, I said thank you, and he said, “No! Not the show, our conversation. I mean, the show was great too. Well done, Gods.” Jessica had a much better crack at conveying her feelings. Of course, I couldn’t reciprocate, but I keep her words close to my heart to this very day.
Annie had been left in charge of Mum while I did the second show, and on Mum’s insistence, she’d taken her out for some fresh air. It was a beautiful summer evening, and there were quite a few people out, so they picked their way over to an out-of-the-way spot. And while I was somewhere inside the building delivering Nanette for the second time that evening, my mum sat on the steps of the Sydney Opera House, and sobbed like a baby. When she eventually gathered herself, she lit a cigarette, took a big old drag and then asked Annie if she could call my dad for her, so she could tell him all about the wonderful news of me.
Skip Notes
*1 To balance out the grandeur of the iconic Sydney Opera House, it was important to me that we film the opening sequence of the special at my home, my beloved Bloomfield, to demonstrate that, as magnificent as the Concert Hall was, it was not my natural habitat. So, the first image that viewers would see was me in my very humble abode, enjoying a cuppa on my chesterfield, surrounded by my books—including the ones I stole from the Smithton school library—and joined by my best friend, Douglas, and his new pal, Jasper.
*2 They weren’t. Sometimes medical trials are medical miracles.
Prologue
HOW SIFFIN SOFFON BECAME FRIENDLY WITH A DRAGON
Part One
One day Mrs. Soffon had an egg. “Not again!” Said Mr. Soffon.
The next day the egg hatched and out popped their baby. They couldn’t decide what to name their new baby. “What about Kinnowin?” Said Mr. Soffon. “NO! That’s a stupid name.” Said Mrs. Soffon. Finally, they agreed that Siffin was a good name.
That night while everyone was sleeping Siffin woke up and drank all the lemonade and ate all the jelly. In the morning Mr. Soffon woke up and saw that all the jelly and lemonade had gone missing.
“Oh well. We’ll just have to have pizza and cake for breakfast.”
The Soffons decided to move to a bigger house. They looked all over the land and there was only one pretty garden and house.
It was a cave.
They went and explored the back of the cave. It was full of snakes. They caught the Soffons and took them outside and stopped at a guillotine. They tied Mr. Soffon up and cut off his head.
All the years past until Siffin was big and strong. One Day the snakes were going to hang mother. Siffin broke through the bars to stop the snakes that were going to hang her. But it was too late. Siffin ran away as fast as he could.
Siffin found a ship on the shore, and he got on. But the ship was cut in half by sharks. Siffin held onto the side of the one half and kicked and kicked and kicked until all the sharks were dead and the water was mostly blood. He was near China so he swam to shore. The China people pulled him out and they invited Siffin to eat with them.
“You will fight the champion tomorrow.” They said. Siffin was very scared but the food was delicious.
The next day Siffin had to fight the great champion of China. The Big Barnshed.
The bell rang. “START!!!” Shouted the Starter. Big Barnshed ran toward Siffin who kicked him in the mouth. Blood came out and he fell down dead.
Siffin was very tired after his fight and fell into a deep sleep after a meal of honey chicken and prawn crackers. He dreamt about being a dog again.
There was a CRASH BANG SPLAT! And there was a monster sitting on a brick of the China Wall. He took Siffin to a strange land. It was full of creatures just like Siffin. And there were uncle Joe, cousin Andrew and Grandma!
Grandma said: “We are going on holiday to Hooky Pooky.”
“Andrew…Get some clothes for Siffin.”
Andrew got Siffin some clothes. But they were too small. The only thing that fitted Siffin was a dress!! Siffin felt very uncomfortable in the dress.
The next day, on their way to Hooky Pooky, Siffin was run over by a bus. Uncle Joe called an ambulance. The ambulance man said: “Can you hop on both legs?” Siffin tried but it really hurt. “You have definitely broken your leg” said the ambulance man. He rubbed on Vicks VapoRub and put plaster on Siffin’s leg. “There, you can go on your holiday now!”
When they got to Hooky Pooky they found a dragon. The Dragon ate Grandma, Joe and Andrew. He looked at Siffin.
“Hi” said Siffin.
“Hi” said the Dragon.
They shook hands.
The Dragon got a magic kettle and said: “Take Siffin and I to where nobody lives.”
Siffin and the Dragon landed on an island called Holiday Island. There was lots and lots of food.
the end
“When I was growing up, all the women in my house were using needles. I’ve always had a fascination with the needle. The magic power of the needle. The needle is used to repair damage. It’s a claim to forgiveness. It is never aggressive, it’s not a pin.”
—louise bourgeois
FOR MUM AND DAD
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have been failing to finishing this book for a very long time. I am very pleased with the end product, sure, but I feel compelled to let you know that the writing of this has been a monumental pain in the spiritual arse of my life. It might surprise many of you to discover that the first time I missed the deadline for this manuscript, the last five metaphorical steps of this book had not yet even happened. And I have a sneaking certainty of a suspicion that without my continued failure to carve a book out of the impossible tangle of my lived life, Nanette would never have been. How about that? So, it is with a great deal of gratitude that I will dedicate this first tier of acknowledgments to those people who extended to me superhuman levels of patience, support, and professional kindness during this woeful process.
Laurie Liss and the team at Sterling Lord Literistic.
Kelly Fagan and Claire Kingston and the entire team at Allen and Unwin Australia.
Sara Weiss and all the good folk at Ballantine.
Clare Drysdale and the team at Atlantic (UK).
A big and humble thanks to Erin Zamagni and Helen Townshend at Token for being so patient with me during the extended period of overwhelm that went into this book. You made me feel very safe and I can’t thank you enough. Janette Linden at PBJ, I thank you for your care and hair. And of course, Kevin Whyte. Let me keep those feelings where they belong and just say “potato.”
My inability to shape this book into a whole and sensible procession of story would often reduce me to a frustrated puddle of “I can’t do this.” Usually when this happened, I would do the only thing I knew how to: quit. But on a few occasions, I did reach out to some writers and gifted readers for some help. And help they did. So now I would like to thank these wonderful folks for their time, care, and the confidence they taught me to have in my own writing.
Lori Lober, Sadie Hasler, Stella Nall, Carolyn Whyte, and Sinsa Mansell (for making sure my ignorance didn’t shine too brightly).
If I can call myself a writer, it has only been the process of writing this book that has dragged me kicking and screaming into that particular professional arena. But really, what I am, and probably always will be, is a comedian first. And even if you do not want to allow me the honour of calling myself a comedian, I am, at the very least, a speaker of sorts. And as a professional speaker of sorts, it was that skill set that very heavily informed my approach to this task. Apparently, I am unable to commit to the page anything that I have not first trialled out loud and in the presence of another. For years and years, I have been cornering many of my nearest and dearest, and the odd stranger, so I could read and reread passages of my stumbling attempts at written prose at them. So, it is to those most generous ears I will be dedicating this next round of heartfelt appreciation, because without them, this book would have been forever shelved as unfinished.
Annie Maver, Ben Bennett, Suzanne Dayton, Cheryl Crilly, Caroline Davies, Amelia Jane Hunter, Jen Brister and robot Chloe, Deborah Frances-White, Geraldine Hickey, DeAnne Smith, Nicole J Georges, Phyllida Law, Emma Thompson, and Kate Woodroofe.
My skills are limited to the stage and to the stage only. So, I would like to extend my thanks to all the people who made sure that Nanette could exist at all.
Australia: Kathleen McCarthy, Rowan Smith, and the Token Events team.
Susan Provan, Brigit Bantick, Claire Hammond, Sean Ford, and the team at MICF.
Edinburgh and London: Rebecca Austin and Hannah Norris! Steve Lock, Kelly Fogarty, and the Soho Theatre team in London. Heather Ruck, William Burdett-Coutts, and the team at Assembly.
New York and LA: Arnold Engelman, Darren Lee Cole, Leigh Lotocki, and the Soho Playhouse team. And, of course, Flanny and the team at Largo.
I would also like to thank the team at the Sydney Opera House, especially for the recording of Nanette. On top of that, I would like to thank Caroline Rothwell, Madeleine Parry, Jon Olb, and Frank Bruzzese. And a robust thanks to Netflix, especially to Robbie Praw, Caitlin Hotchkiss, and Cindy Holland.
What? More? Yes. Next in line are my post-Nanette champions:
My team at UTA—Blair, Nick, Lucinda, Skikne, Bjorn, Larry, and Josh.
The legends at ID—Kelly Bush-Novak, Molly, Court, Amanda, and Lori.
Lawyers? Why not…thanks Karl and Michael!
Next! I would like to offer a big, huge, and humble thanks to my fans! Especially to those of you who have been with me since before I “quit” comedy. You are an integral part of this story. Please keep supporting local live performances of any art form; you keep our world turning.
Thanks also to all the activists who fought for gay law reform in Tasmania: Rodney Croome, Nick Toonen, and the rest of Equality Tasmania (formerly known as the TGLRG) for all your personal sacrifice and leadership. Thanks also to the leaders and activists who rallied to get Australian marriage equality over the line. Also, Penny Wong and Bob Brown. I have always been so thankful to hear your voices rise above the Parliamentary fray on most matters, but especially on those that cut closer to my identity bone. And, finally, a little salute to Panti Bliss. I saw what you did and I took courage from it. But ultimately, just a blanket thanks to everyone who fights for inclusion in the face of any hateful moral panic.
And now for the penultimate thanks, my extraordinary spouse lady, Jenney Shamash. THANK YOU! Not only did you usher this book over the line—handling that big cluster of technical tasks that would have been impossible for me to get through on my own—but you have helped me navigate my very frightening post-Nanette world. Thank you for the joy you bring and the low-level lights you shine for my overly sensitive eyes.
And now, last but certainly not least, I would like to draw my acknowledgment attention to my family. Thank you for trusting me with the parts of your story that couldn’t be separated from mine.
To my siblings: Justin, Jessica, Ben, and Hamish. Thank you so much for always being there for me, and for all the support you’ve shown me throughout my career and especially for all the propping up of my existence that you do and have always done.
And, of course, to my parents: Kay and Roger, AKA Mum and Dad. Thank you. I love you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tasmania’s own Hannah Gadsby stopped stand-up comedy in its tracks with her multi-award-winning show, Nanette. Its launch on Netflix in 2018, and subsequent Emmy and Peabody wins, took Nanette (and Hannah) to the world. Hannah’s second special was named Douglas, after her dog. Hannah walked Douglas around the globe, selling out the Royal Festival Hall in London, the Opera House in Sydney, and the Kennedy Center in DC. Douglas was nominated for an Emmy and is available throughout the world on Netflix.
Hannah Gadsby’s “overnight” success was more than ten years in the making, with her award-winning stand-up shows having been a fixture in festivals across Australia and the U.K. since 2009. She played a character called “Hannah” on the TV series Please Like Me and has hosted multiple art documentaries, inspired by her comedy art lectures. In 2021, she was awarded a Doctorate of Letters honoris causa from the University of Tasmania. This is Dr. Gadsby’s first book.
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Nanette
The problem with comedy
I fear that if I prioritize punch lines, I won’t be able to continue maturing enough to keep ahead of suicide.
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The best way to judge a woman is by the way she looks.
The best way to know a woman is to let her speak her own story.
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Just for one breath: I was the pinnacle of NORMAL.
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“Every time I change wives, I should burn the last one. That way I’d be rid of them. They wouldn’t be around to complicate my existence. Maybe that would bring back my youth, too. You kill the woman and you wipe out the past she represents.”
—Pablo Picasso
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My favorite sound in the whole world is the sound of a teacup finding its place on its saucer.
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Fuck reputations.
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A seventeen-year-old girl is not in her prime!!!—what was I doing?? Sad and lonely.
I AM IN MY PRIME NOW!
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Hannah Gadsby, Ten Steps to Nanette
