The Fabulists

The Fabulists
by Philip Casey

PRAISE FOR THE FABULISTS
'... a deeply accomplished first novel. Casey has a penetrating eye for
the stuff of everyday relationships and the compassion to turn the
ordinary into compelling and vivid fiction.'
EOIN MCNAMEE, THE IRISH TIMES

'... an engaging combination of social and magic realism.'
BOOKS IRELAND

'This is a passionate, erotic mature novel that displays many of the
virtues which contemporary Irish fiction so conspicuously lacks: an
intelligent vision of an adult relationship coupled with an intelligent
vision of contemporary Irish society ... a supple prose style which is a
constant joy to read.'
RONAN SHEEHAN, IRISH PRESS

'The emotions explored are deep and serious, the characters get all our
sympathy ... a stunningly truthful and perfectly pitched novel.'
COLM TÓIBÍN

'Casey has an uncanny ability to portray the needy fragility and
boundless imaginative desire of a woman's unfolding sexuality.'
KATIE DONOVAN, THE BIG ISSUE

'Mortally angelic writing by a man that understands as no one else
does the seam of gold and revelation in the strict greys of the
mundane.'
SEBASTIAN BARRY, THE IRISH TIMES

The Fabulists
Philip Casey was born to Irish parents in London in 1950 and raised in
Co. Wexford. He lived in Barcelona from 1974 to 1977 and has
travelled widely in Israel and Europe. His publications include The
Year of the Knife, Poems 1980-1990 (1991); his play, Cardinal, was
performed in Hamburg in 1990. A member of Aosdána, he lives in
Dublin on the north bank of the Liffey.

for Christine Clear

The Fabulists
PHILIP CASEY
THE LILLIPUT PRESS

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is licensed under a Creative Commons

Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License
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*The full license is included at the end of this document
This novel is released under a Creative Commons license courtesy
The Lilliput Press, Dublinhttp://www.lilliputpress.ie
http://www.lilliputpress.ie
and
The Lisa Eveleigh Literary Agency, London
Hard copies of The Fabulists may be purchased from
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original copyright notice
Copyright (c) 1994 Philip Casey
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in
any form or by any means without the prior permission of the
publisher.
First published in 1994 by THE LILLIPUT PRESS LTD 4 Rosemount
Terrace, Arbour Hill, Dublin 7, Ireland.
Reprinted 1995
A CIP record for this title is available from The British Library.
ISBN 1 874675 30 9
Acknowledgments are due to the Arts Council (An Chomhairle Ealaíon)
for a travel grant to Germany, and to The Tyrone Guthrie Centre at
Annamakerrig where some of this novel was written. With special
thanks to Karina, Christine, Ulrike, Bríd, Peter, Mick, David, Paddy,

Eileen, Shane, Sean, Kevin, Eileen, John, Ann, Pat, Arthur, and
Grainne.
The Lilliput Press receives financial assistance from An Chomairle
Ealaíon/The Arts Council of Ireland
Cover design by Ed Miliano Set in 10.5 on 13 Galliard by mermaid
turbulence
Printed in Dublin by etaprint
Note: this electronic copy has been formatted in Palatino Linotype 14
Philip Casey's website is athttp://www.philipcasey.com
http://www.philipcasey.com

-One-
Tess was brooding about Arthur and Brian when a large puppet bird
caught her attention. Its head lunged on its unwieldy neck as it led the
noisy, colourful parade along O'Connell Street. A judge rolled his eyes
and absently waved a claw from his perch. His platform was dragged
by lawyers, their wigs askew as they strained and groaned under the
weight of the law. It was all good fun, but when she saw that the
Keystone Cops were confused about guarding some men in a cage, she
realized the point of the demonstration. The case of the six men had
become notorious. Tess believed they were innocent, and now, by
chance, she could support their cause.
She was mesmerized as one scene displaced another. Weird ranks of
marchers dressed in black, with cowls or tricorn hats, carried flaming
torches. Their faces were black, their masks were white. There was a
choir, in red and orange cloaks. It was like the German carnival Marian
had mentioned in one of her letters.
She was relieved when the drums faded, and as the support groups
began to pass, she slipped in behind a union banner.

By O'Connell Bridge the groups had become less disciplined and more
sociable. Even Tess had joined in the banter. She could see no one that
she knew, but although he was more or less with a group behind a
banner, a man was casually watching her. She had already noticed him
as she joined the parade, because he had a stiff arm, but now he was
lost in the shifting crowd. There were mythic animals everywhere she
looked, weaving in and out of the straggling groups, keeping them
moving, insulting friends from the safety of their masks. She hadn't
enjoyed herself so much in a long time.
Darkness