TWAIN

A beautiful, impressive and entertaining love story with a special and wonderful twist! Life may be a bumpy road sometimes, but all is well that ends well...

For the poem "Wad Walker", see under TAB "NEWS".

Click here for the English version:

THE AUTHOR

James Herald is a Dutch writer. "Twain" is his first English novel. For a professional review, see below. Click here for the Dutch translation:

The narrative

Thomas, a 50-year-old bachelor, accidentally comes across a speaking toy bear in an abandoned old-fashioned toy store. After a thorough introduction, he decides to take the bear home, calling him "Cotton". Hereafter, in a humorous, witty and ironic fashion, extensive conversations unfold between them about all kinds of subjects, ranging from everyday affairs to deep philosophical issues.

When Thomas falls in love with Hanna, a much younger woman, Cotton navigates him through the process, helping him out to deal with his emotions. Thomas manages to get into a loving relationship with her and to marry her against all odds.

People may start all over again with their lives in freedom and independency. For Thomas it entails that his fiftieth birthday gives the go-ahead for a new beginning with the woman he loves. It is a rebirth experience in the name of faith, hope and love.

And the greatest of all is LOVE!

Interview with James Herald

Please tell the reader a bit about yourself.

I am Dutch and was born in 1950 in Djakarta, the Dutch Indies at the time. After the war my father worked there as a schoolteacher. Our family went back to Holland in 1951. I publish in English under the pseudonym James Herald. In the Netherlands I have published poetry, essays, magazine articles, and a theological book. I am also a singer, songwriter and composer. However, I have never been able to make a career out of these activities. 'Twain' is my first full-length English novel.

Why English?

Living in the Netherlands, I find myself somewhat uneasily positioned between three cultures: Germany, France and the United Kingdom. Each of them has qualities I admire. But when it comes to writing fiction, British English stands out as the most suitable vehicle for my thoughts because of its sense of irony. It hovers somewhere between heaven and earth — a kind of duplicity that I find very attractive. It took some time to get used to it, though, and I am still learning.

Which authors have inspired you?

The Dutch writer Godfried Bomans influenced me deeply with his humour and irresistible wordplay. He was strongly inspired by Charles Dickens and introduced a certain British tone into Dutch literature. That “frequency” has stayed with me throughout my life. Later I discovered A. A. Milne, whose Poohish lightness of tone and phrasing fascinated me. After that came Oscar Wilde and, of course, James Joyce. Besides them, I picked up fragments from many other writers, including German and French authors.

Why did you choose 'Twain' as a title?

First of all, I wanted a title that would be as concise and striking as possible — something that would stay in people’s minds and make them curious. Twain fulfils that purpose well because it reflects a theme that runs through the entire narrative on several levels. There are multiple “twain moments” in the story. The expression “Never the twain shall meet” applies to the original lives of the two main characters. Yet their marriage proves that one should never stop hoping for the best. There is also a small personal connection. At my high school exam, I once wrote an essay about a remark by Mark Twain: “Man is the only animal that blushes – or needs to.” The essay received the highest mark possible. To my knowledge, that had never happened before or after. Perhaps that was the moment when the writer in me first awoke. The title 'Twain' is therefore also a small tribute to a great author.

How did you start writing this story?’

In 1998, shortly before Christmas, I noticed a toy bear in a hardware shop lying rather awkwardly among tools, hammers and nails. He looked at me with eyes that seemed to say, 'Please take me home with you.' I felt sorry for him and bought him. He has been in my household ever since. I decided to write a short Christmas carol and gave the bear a role in it. That carol eventually became the first chapter of the book. After finishing the story in Dutch, I put it aside until, in 2020, I asked myself, 'How would it sound in English?' Would it add some value to it? Basically, the English translation evolved into a restructuring of the narrative with additional chapters. It took me over 5 years to get it right. Writing to me is 1% inspiration and 99% transpiration.

So, you didn’t intend to write a novel?

Not at all. After finishing the carol, I simply followed the thread of the story in my mind without knowing where it would lead. I had no plan or concept beforehand. The narrative developed intuitively and often surprised me. My subconscious clearly played an important role. Of course, the text had to be corrected, adapted and edited afterwards. That's a whole other story.

Can you give a summary of “Twain”?

Thomas, a 50-year-old bachelor who lost his job and has not many prospects left. And Hannah, half his age, working as a cashier. But the fact that they both are traumatised, each in their own way, works as a catalyst between them so that they get together in the end against all odds. The bear plays a pivotal role in it, working a miracle. In spite of a dramatic undertone, it is basically a happy story, ending well but not without a hitch. It is a bumpy road altogether. Although the bear adds a fictional element to it, the story is very realistic in essence so that the reader may identify with it to the extent he feels he can. There is a humorous ingredient that makes it palatable.

Could you describe the change Thomas is going through?

His transformation unfolds in stages. He is wrapped in an emotional cocoon. The warmth of the hug from the bear empowers him to break it open from the inside out. Followed by a processing time of a few months, in which his spiritual wings develop like a butterfly. Then Hannah enters his life. From then on, he is growing into a relationship with a person outside his world. The bear helps him build a bridge and encourages him to take action. The marriage is not only a destination but even more a destiny: it is not good that the man is alone; I will make him a helper who suits him. These are the words of the vicar at the wedding ceremony.

Does the protagonist Thomas resemble you?

Thomas is fifty years old — roughly my own age at the time when I began writing. We both come from a religious, conservative background. He is introverted, like me, more of a thinker than a man of action. Creativity is his escape route and mine as well. But there are also differences. Thomas is a graphic designer, while I am a writer and composer. And I allowed him something memorable: a romantic new beginning in life.

And what about Cotton, the bear?

Cotton is not easy to define. He is neither an angel nor a spirit from another world, yet he possesses a kind of angelic wit. He moves between different realms — between Toyland and the world beyond. At the same time, he behaves very much like a real bear, with simple desires such as eating honey or dreaming of a she-bear. He can appear and disappear, almost like switching himself on and off.

So, he is a kind of hybrid?

Not exactly. He does not have two natures but rather two appearances, as a normal toy bear that becomes alive now and then. He is fully independent and cannot be summoned at will. Yet he appears when he is needed. Each encounter with him is unique. Sometimes he challenges Thomas; sometimes he comforts him. He offers loyalty and friendship without becoming sentimental. In the end his influence becomes part of Thomas’s own personality.

Does that make him the main character?

In a sense, yes. Cotton steers the narrative from the beginning. He functions as a bridge between Thomas’s past and his future. His hug helps Thomas overcome the emotional deprivation of his childhood and prepares him to take responsibility for his life and relationships. Before the wedding he says goodbye. Thomas can drive the car by himself now.

How does Hannah enter the story?

Hannah appears as a continuation of Cotton’s influence. She represents a human form of the same warmth that the bear first awakens. Thomas initially feels no sexual desire for her. Instead, he is struck by her presence, almost like a flash of light. Without the bear’s intervention he might never have recognised what she meant to him. Their meeting is therefore another expression of the idea of twain: two lives that seemed unrelated suddenly come together.

How does the story end?

Hannah unfortunately loses her first child, but she recovers. In the final chapter she becomes pregnant again. Thomas resumes his work as an independent graphic designer, and Hannah returns to the stage as a ballet dancer. Their life together settles into a calm and comforting rhythm, leaving the reader with an agreeable aftertaste.

Does Cotton still play a role after the marriage?

Only as a toy bear. After Hannah loses her first child, Cotton lies at the foot of their bed. Both Thomas and Hannah have the impression that he smiles at them. Afterwards, he recedes into the background. Yet he remains in their household, still radiating something special. One day he will probably become the favourite cuddly toy of their child.

Which characters are dearest to you?

I enjoy them all. Cotton is closest to my heart because he is so unique. Thomas is my alter ego in many ways. I recognise myself in his struggles, and I admire his courage in confronting himself honestly. Hannah represents the kind of woman I would certainly fall in love with. And Hennie is refreshing because she is straightforward — almost blunt — but has a heart of gold.

Which chapter means the most to you?

Chapter 16, the wedding night. Hannah discovers that she can fully trust Thomas and enjoy their intimacy without fear. For her it creates a profound feeling of belonging. Thomas understands her vulnerability and is careful not to awaken painful memories from her past. Their first night together becomes deeply meaningful for both of them. Because the experience is so intense, they are almost at a loss for words afterwards. Instead, they laugh about it and talk lightly, which makes the moment feel both ordinary and extraordinary at the same time.

Do you have a final message for readers?

I hope the book encourages readers to reconsider their own direction in life and to become more aware of the essentials of love and human connection. The story is not meant as a manual or a set of instructions. Rather, it plants a seed. Each reader may allow that seed to grow in their own way. Just as Thomas internalises Cotton, readers may grasp the essence of the story and reinterpret it in their own words.

Review of "Twain"

"Your manuscript was brought to our attention at the latest editorial board meeting when we discussed the potential of its publication. Having read all the reports and taken note of the editors' opinions, we can confidently state that your work was found to be a most thrilling, absorbing, and thought-provoking read, very well-written throughout.

The board was keen to comment on the fascinating concept for the plot framed by a compelling cast of characters, especially Hanna and Thomas and their developments through the story. We also believe that this work is very well structured throughout, allowing the story to build and leaving the reader hungry to continue reading.

As an immersive piece that encompasses a variety of themes, this work will appeal to a wide audience, especially to those who enjoy stories with detailed character development; action-fuelled plots with twists and turns; stories that confront the human experience; and to those with interests in elements of the romance genre and in matters of family, friendship, and human interaction more widely.

Ultimately, the Board was impressed with the ambitious scope of this work and believes that 'Twain' has the potential to succeed within its market."

Chapter 1 (sneak preview)

The day started off with a straight face. Nothing suggested it had anything up its sleeve.

After a heavy lunch, Thomas lingers by the living room window, drifting in and out of daydreams. Though the winter day was still young, the first breath of twilight was already settling in. A dark cloud rolls in. The streetlights flicker on. He welcomes it as a good omen.

From the cherry wood escritoire—an heirloom from his parents—something white flutters down to the floor and lands at his feet. It’s an envelope. Using his thumbnail like a letter opener, he slices it open and pulls out a smudged greeting card.

‘Hi, Tom! Twenty-one again? Or closer to half a century? Keep up the good work!’

The messy scrawl is unmistakably Harry’s—his next-door neighbour. Only then does it strike Thomas that he has turned fifty today. Straightening his back, he gazes blankly at the card in his palm until the phone shakes him out of his reverie.

He mumbles a faint ‘Hello?’ without giving his name. On the other end comes a deep, smoky growl, like the rasping roar of a toothless old lion.

‘All right, Harry. No, I’m not celebrating today. No, it won’t happen any time soon either.’

Silence.

Just when Thomas is about to put down the phone, Harry’s sandpaper voice scrapes at his eardrum.

‘How about a pint?’

‘Okay, put it in your calendar for the weekend.’

He stretches and yawns. Recently, birthdays have meant little to him. Since his parents passed away, his calendar has felt like a stack of blank pages.

He has been unemployed for several years now, laid off from the graphic design company to which he had devoted most of his adult life. A decision made on a whim, it seemed—without even the courtesy of a farewell gathering.

He pulls on his coat, hops on his bike, and heads downtown. The streets bustle with people rushing past bulging display windows. Some have weary expressions, their shoulders hunched as they juggle Christmas errands—one hand dragging a heavy shopping bag, the other tugging along a reluctant toddler.

Thomas has no particular destination in mind. Shivering, he flips up his collar and buries his hands deep in his pockets. He lingers on the pavement as if waiting for something without knowing what.

An odd intuition makes him tilt his gaze upward instead of around. On the façade of a shop hangs a puppet, a mini-Santa Claus. Caught in the breeze, it twists helplessly in all directions.

Then, at the very instant Thomas is about to look away, it suddenly freezes. Its arm, which moments ago swung aimlessly, now points firmly across the street, unfazed by the tug of the wind. Following its direction, he sees a shop he had never noticed before. There is something about it that draws his attention.

On impulse, he decides to take a closer look. It appears to be an old-fashioned toy store; its window cluttered with a curious assortment of small items. A smirk spreads across his face. The window dresser must have gone out for lunch in the middle of his work.

In the centre of the display stands a cardboard castle, guarded by gypsum knights in varying stages of decay, surrounded by antique toys, farm animals, and faded jigsaw puzzles. In the corner is a worn little dollhouse, its paint dulled by time. The whole scene carries an awkward charm that amuses him.

He hesitates only a moment before gathering his courage and stepping inside. A coquettish little bell greets him. The counter is unattended, and no staff member appears to be around. Step by step, he shuffles deeper into the store. The old oak floor creaks beneath his feet, slightly uneven, as though it remembers better days.

All around, shelves and display cases brim with relics: tin cars and dolls, miniature steam trains, boxes of Meccano, and brightly illustrated children’s books featuring well-known fairy-tale figures. The farther he wanders, the deeper he slips into this backward journey, savouring each moment as though he had stumbled upon a private treasure trove of memories.

A smell rises from the room — oil wood, dust and something undefinable, filling him with a sudden wave of nostalgia. He is a child again, spellbound by a world where everything is new, fragile, and full of wonder.

‘I do see you!’ a gentle humming voice says, ‘but you didn’t see me!’

At first, Thomas imagines a child playing hide-and-seek behind the boxes. But when he looks closer, he notices a pale brown teddy bear peering at him with winking, beady eyes and a friendly nod. About half a metre tall, it is wedged into a child’s safety seat, its paws outstretched, sitting crookedly as if about to topple at any moment.

‘I do see you,’ the bear says again, ‘but you didn’t see me!’

By now, Thomas is already too far inside the moment to be startled. As a child, he often had made-up conversations with his stuffed animals—who, in his imagination, always talked back to him.

‘You didn’t see me, did you? But I do see you!’

The bear must hide a gramophone record in its belly, so he pondered; one that plays the same phrases on loop.

But as though reading his mind, the bear continues: ‘I’m a real Teddy.’

Thomas’s eyes widen. His jaws drop. A little shiver goes down his spine. For a short moment he’s lost for words.

Soon after, he regains his composure.

‘I suppose I have to take your word for it.’

The bear winks again. ‘Why that timid look? I don’t bite. I just sort of sit here.’

Thomas chuckles. ‘I hear you talking. If you don’t mind me asking, could you tell me your name please?’

The bear glances upward as though searching the air for an answer. ‘Gosh, it must have slipped my mind,’ he confesses after a while. ‘It’s the age thing, you know… Perhaps you’d better come up with a suitable name for me.’

As the conversation takes this unexpected turn, Thomas has the impression the bear is trying to dodge the issue.

‘Don’t you have any idea at all? Isn’t everyone given a name at birth?’

The bear shrugs lightly. ‘One would think so. Getting a name is the least one may expect in life.’ Dumbfounded, Thomas holds his breath, careful not to break the fragile spell. The bear keeps smiling, the overhead light glinting faintly against his small white teeth.

Suddenly his eyes light up. ‘That’s right! There’s a label on my belly.’ He bends over with effort. ‘My name is ‘Made in Israel’.

Thomas can’t help grinning because of this odd remark. ‘Well, that must be where you’re from then.’

‘My skin is cotton, filled with real lamb’s wool, washable at thirty degrees Celsius.’

He tilts his head as if pondering something weighty. ‘Washable! Blow me down! It’s been a while since I washed.’

Thomas now decides to play along. ‘In that case, Cotton seems a decent name for you.’

‘Cotton!’ The bear savours the word like a sip of wine. ‘Well, well! Sounds good! That suits me perfectly. I’m already feeling much better now!’

He fixes his gaze on Thomas again. ‘As you already might have noticed, I’m quite fluffy. Just touch me!’

Drawn into the bear’s magnetic charm, Thomas hesitates only a second before reaching out to stroke the soft fur. A soothing warmth spreads through his fingertips, sending goose bumps across his back. It throws him off balance slightly.

‘How is it that you can speak?’ he blurts, his tone harsher than intended, like a stern officer interrogating a suspect.

‘Toy animals only speak for those who have ears to hear,’ the bear nods in his direction. ‘Obviously, in your case, it works, doesn’t it!’

‘Should I take it as a compliment?’ Thomas shrugs. ‘It’s like being caught in a dream with no way out.’

‘You talk back to me. That makes it work.’

‘I just like talking to myself,’ Thomas grinned.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because I’m the only one who listens.’

‘Maybe it’s because you’ve not so much to say.’

‘I’m baffled, that’s all. You kind of trapped me into your space, didn’t you? It feels like inescapable.’

‘You may check out anytime you like, but leave only if you really want to.’

‘I just might not. I still can’t believe my eyes, though.’

‘You’re dreaming with your eyes open.’

‘I wonder if it’s my dream or yours.’

‘Maybe it’s ours’.

Thomas now crouches down in front of the bear and gently props him upright. ‘There you go!’ The bear feels warm and alive.

‘Thank you, sir! It was killing me softly, sitting crooked like that. I’ve been left on my own too often.’

Thomas leans closer, intrigued. ‘Where do you belong, if I may ask?’

The bear heaves a deep sigh. ‘Wherever there is love. But love is rare in this world. So, I just sit and wait.’

'And could you tell me what you’re waiting for? For someone to buy you?’
The bear shakes his head and looks sideways. ‘I’m not for sale, as far as I know.’
He then gave a cursory glance in his direction. ‘But I will give myself freely to anyone who’s worth it.’
‘And the proprietor of the shop—would he agree with that?’
‘I am nobody’s. Only mine.’
The conversation falters, leaving Thomas speechless. Is this real? Or only a feverish hallucination?