Sharp teeth

When Chloe Lane wrote her darkly humorous novel The Swimmers about a family planning to aid their sick mother in suicide, she had no idea it would be published at the same time New Zealand votes on the issue of euthanasia. She talks to Philip Matthews abo

Apeaceful death. Those three words stop you in your tracks and remind you that, beyond all the noise of politics in 2020, away fromthe billboards and the opinions and the disinformation, we’re supposed to be thinking hard about something deep, serious and humane.

Christchurchwriter Chloe Lane didn’t plan to have a novel about euthanasia out in time for the End of Life Choice referendum – it just turned out thatway. Her excellent debut novel, The Swimmers, started lifemore than three years ago as a short story, on the other side of theworld. In the first, short version, a fractured family comes together to scatter someone’s ashes.

Somewhere along theway, that story turned into a novel about a Queen’s Birthday weekend inNorthland, where 26-year-old Erin Moore is surprised to learn that hermother, whowas diagnosedwithmotor neurone disease, has planned her own suicide. The garishAuntyWynn is hosting theweekend. Some drugs have been sourced for the purpose froma local vet.

Yet the surprising thing about The Swimmers is that it’s often funny. Here is a description of AuntyWynn:

‘‘Shewaswearing a tracksuit the exact colour of rawchicken breast. Her hairwas wet and combed back fromher face in such a way that gave her the slightly threatening look of a crime familymatriarch. She had returned fromher aqua aerobics class.’’

The novel is set over five days. On the fourth, Erin’smumis set to take her lethal dose.

‘‘Itwas just a coincidence that the book was ready to come out the same year that the referendumwas happening,’’ Lane says. ‘‘Itwasn’t something I had thought about in terms of a political question. It’s not even addressed as amoral question in the book. Forme, itwasmore abouthowto take this really difficult thing and seewhat it does to this family unit.

‘‘On one hand, Iwas curious about the logistics of it. What does it look like for a regular Kiwi family to takematters into their own hands, to help one of their loved ones have a peaceful death? On the other hand, themost important thingwas, what sort of emotional toll does it take? I guess I used itmore as an exploration of that, the ways they frustrate each other and theways they get along and don’t get along. Very early on, Erin, when she finds out this iswhat her motherwants, is very accepting of that decision. For her, it’smore important that shehonourshermother’s choice anddoes everything she can [to help].’’

Could the book be seen asmaking a case for theyes vote inOctober? It could, Lane agrees. But she laughswith amix of horror and amusement at the thought that she would everwant to put herself in themiddle of such an explosive political issue.

Moving to Florida

The novel took shape in the USwhere Lane did aMaster of FineArts in fiction at the University of Florida in Gainesville. Lane and her husband, painter Peter Gouge, liked Florida somuch they stuck around so that

Gouge could do a painting course at the same institution. Their son, Errol, now 20 months old, was born there.

Lanewould sometimes borrowa writing roomwhen they house-and-dog-sat forwriter Jill Ciment, a teacher on the coursewho became a friend. Itwas Cimentwho told Lane to take her short story about a family and stretch it out intowhat became The Swimmers.

‘‘She had this amazing house that looked over a lake and, aswith any body ofwater in Florida that’s not a swimming pool, it’s full of alligators,’’ Lane says. ‘‘Iwas sitting there trying towrite about theNewZealand landscape and light and gorse-riddled paddocks, and there are alligators cruising up and down. Theywould come up on to the lawn and bask in the sun.

‘‘It’s a strange experience. They’re not as terrifying as they seem, they’re actually very docile if you keep clear of them, unless it’s nesting season or mating season or dusk, when they’re about to feed. You leave them alone, they’re pretty lazy, really.’’

You don’t see people getting attacked or dragged off?

‘‘Rarely. Idida lot of researchbefore I moved to Florida, because I had the same reaction. Iwas veryworried about it – even just learning that therewere alligators on the University of Florida campus. I found out all these things, like that their jawstrength is so great it’s easier to keep their jawclosed thanpryit openif youget bitten. Iwas visualising these scenarioswhere Iwould be in some kind of death rollwith an alligator.’’