Trumpet is the début (and so far the only)
novel of the British poet Jackie Kay. First published in 1998, Trumpet
won the Guardian Fiction Prize.
The
protagonist of Trumpet is a renowned jazz musician called Joss Moody. Moody is
a famous trumpet player (the title of the novel is a direct reference to the
instrument that brings fame to Moody). Joss Moody around whom the novel
revolves never speaks directly to the reader because he is dead. The novel
begins with the death of Moody. Moody has died, leaving behind his widow, Millie,
and his adopted son, Colman. The world of Jazz music has lost one of its
greatest exponents. However, this is not the only reason why Moody, in his
death, is dominating the headlines in the tabloids. In his death Joss Moody can
no longer keep the secret he has lived with all his life. Moody, who lived all
his life as a man, was married and adopted
a son, was born a woman, and, anatomically , remained a woman all
his/her life. The “discovery” of Moody’s
true gender attracts lots of unwarranted media attention, complete with
prurient speculations about the sex lives (and sexual orientations) of Moody
and “his widow”.
Trumpet tells the story of Joss Moody through
different voices: the funeral director (who discovers the true sex of the
famous trumpeter); the drummer in the band to which Moody belongs; an
avaricious journalist who is trying to make a name for herself out of the drama
of Moody’s life with the sensitivity of George W Bush on a bad-hair day; Millie, Moody’s “wife”, who has known all
along that her “husband” was a woman ; and last but not the least, his son
Coleman, who doesn’t know, until he reads the newspapers, that the man he thought was his father was in fact a
woman.
The premise
of Trumpet
is not as preposterous as it might seem. The novel is based on the real life American Jazz musician called Billy Tipton. Tipton was born a woman—Dorothy
Tipton. A piano player, Tipton started her musical career in the 1930s. She
used to appear as a man during public performance, but, by 1940, she had begun living
as a man even in private. Tipton went on to have a series of relationships with
women, some of which lasted for several years. (Those partners of Tipton who could be contacted after Tipton's death clarified tat they were aware that Tipton was a woman; all of them consaid that they considered themselves to be heterosexuals.) Tipton adopted three sons in the
1960s when “he” was in a relationship with a woman, and, upon separating from
her, carried on living with “his” three sons who apparently remained blissfully
unaware that their father was in fact a woman even when they reached puberty. Tipton died in poverty in 1989. The sons became aware of their father’s anatomy when Tipton, at the age of 74
became ill (he had resisted for months going to the hospital) and paramedics
were called. Tipton never explained or left behind any note explaining why he
chose to live the way he did. It has been speculated that the scene of Jazz
music was dominated by men in the 1930s when Tipton started out, and s/he
might have felt it necessary to take on the persona of a man in order to have a career.
Some of Tipton's professional colleagues felt that Dorothy Tipton was a lesbian
because during the years when she was appearing as a man only during public
performances, she lived with another woman.
Trumpet makes no attempt to explain the
fictional Joss Moody’s sexuality. Was Moody a lesbian? A transvestite? A
transsexual? Kay is not interested in spelling this out for the readers. Just
as Dorothy Tipton, the real life inspiration behind Joss Moody, never explained
what motivated her to live the most whole life as a man, Trumpet leaves it for the
reader to figure out why Moody lived his life the way he did. What Kay is
interested in are identity and love, and she explores these themes with great
subtlety. On the one hand we have the dead Joss Moody, who, for all outward
appearances, had no conflict in his mind about his identity, which, to most,
would seem more complicated than Christopher Nolan’s Inception; on the other
hand there is Moody’s adopted son, Coleman, whose sexual identity is
straightforward enough, but who has struggled all his life to come out of the
shadow of his famous father, and, not having any musical (or any other skills)
to speak of, is drifting in search of an identity. The revelation of his father’s
gender triggers a riot of emotions in Coleman’s mind compared to which the
Bolshevik revolution was a tea party, and makes his struggle for identity more
convoluted. Coleman’s struggle to accept his father for what he was is a
powerful strand of the novel. Millie, Moody’s widow, is also grappling with the
issue of identity, though there is no confusion in her mind. Millie, who has
always known that Joss was a woman, views herself as straight, and does not
accept the media’s depiction of her as a lesbian. To Millie it matters not a
jot that Joss Moody was anatomically a woman. She loved Joss for what he was. Although
not explicitly stated, it is implied that Joss Moody considered himself a man,
and that is good enough for Millie. The sections describing the relationship
between Joss and Millie are very moving without ever descending into the
maudlin. The ending has a twist but it’s not gimmicky.
Trumpet, at its heart, is a love story; but
it is also a psychological thriller and an exposition of identity. Jackie Kay
is a renowned poet and has an extraordinary feel for language. She knows how to
select, what to focus on, how make her characters sparkle and how to make her
scenes vivid. The different voices of the novel are handled with great aplomb and
are utterly convincing. All—even the slightly stereotypical and unlikeable journalist—are
treated with compassion. Not an easy thing to pull off, one would have thought,
but Kay manages it.
Trumpet is a wonderful novel. Humane,
poignant, wise and insightful, it’s one of those novels that give you a rich
sense of satisfaction when you reach the last page.
