The Fabergé Girl by Ina Christova publishes May 16th. It is based on a true story, inspired by Alma Pihl, the only female jewellery designer at the iconic House of Fabergé. I am delighted to be joining the blog tour today with an extract to share with you all, so I do hope you enjoy.
“I grew up with stories about Fabergé eggs, and the history and folklore of the region. But whilst Carl
Fabergé was, of course, an impressive and eccentric figure in his own right, I really wanted to shine a
light on an incredible woman who achieved so much more than many women did at the time.”
Ina Christova
[ About The Fabergé Girl ]
1909, St Petersburg. Seventeen-year-old Alma longs to work at the legendary House of Fabergé, with its talented artisans, winding staircases, secret golden elevator, and glasshouse of tropical plants. But instead, Alma must sketch quietly in her room, inspired by magical visions that could have her accused of witchcraft, whilst her domineering brother presents her designs as his own.
But then comes an opportunity. With the help of a Finnish artisan Knut, she attracts the attention of Carl Fabergé himself and is given a job at the House of Fabergé. Alma’s creations attract widespread acclaim, and her star is on the rise. But the world around her is increasingly divided, as the Revolution creeps ever nearer. Alma will be forced to decide what matters most to her. Can love, art and beauty survive such hatred and violence?
At once a poignant love story, a magical coming of age tale and a haunting and evocative account of one of Russia’s darkest periods of history, Ina Christova’s transporting debut is based on the incredible true story of Alma Pihl, the only female jewellery designer at the House of Fabergé and her journey during the age of silver culture in St Petersburg.
[ Extract ]
St Petersburg, November 1909
Alma’s breath freezes. She is finally back on the magnificent Nevsky Prospect. There’s nowhere else in the city as magnificent, as full of life and colour as this street: ladies walk by with puffed up sleeves that look like silver flowers in bloom, babushkas wearing embroidered zabradka headscarves can be seen in the crowd, and bright red, orange, and green trams rattle down the distant tracks.
An elderly man with a pointy black moustache promenades with a girl in a pale blue coat trotting by his side, and Alma is reminded of walks to the workshop alongside Father. For a brief, blissful moment, he is right next to her, smiling. But then, a cold reality hits; these two are in fact complete strangers. The girl opens her handbag to take out a small, enamelled scent box. It catches the sunlight and Alma imagines the Fabergé stamp on its underside as the girl dabs a small amount of perfume on her delicate neck. A mix of violets, geraniums and roses fills the air. Walking in this city, flanked by the waters of the Neva, is like moving between the real and the imaginary, the old and the new.
Outside the House of Fabergé itself, Alma gazes into its windows. She used to watch Father disappear behind the heavy doors while she wondered at what hid behind the gray granite walls of the building, display windows filled with figurines of carved agate cats and smoky quartz mice. Today I must sink or swim, Alma thinks. She knows the time has come to take credit for her work, or she may lose her nerve. Working behind the scenes forever would not make Father proud.
Today’s display in front of her today is a forest scene with bay trees fashioned from nephrite and enamel, set with pearls and diamonds. A man with white gloves turns a tiny key disguised as a leaf and feathered songbirds rise up. They turn their heads in unison, flap their wings and start to sing. One of Father’s favourite designs, in prime position. Alma lingers, admiring the jeweled leaves, so lifelike they might rustle in the wind.
The liveried doorman interrupts her thoughts: ‘Dobry den, Madam. Welcome to the shop that will make your dreams come true.’
A flush stains her cheeks, but as he holds the door open to her, she nods and passes through. Tortoise shell jewellery boxes, wild roses made of gold and a collection of miniature enamel Easter egg pendants are displayed on red velvet cushions to the beauties of St Petersburg. Alma walks past a frenzy of yellow and blue muslin dresses, their owners transfixed by Fabergé’s creations, their ahs and ohs floating through the shop.A clock is hanging above a small door at the back of the showroom, guarded by another doorkeeper. Alma has overheard her brother Oskar say to their mother that he makes his way to the workshop upstairs through this very door. The clock ticks in the room as Alma keeps watch, each beat causing her skin to prickle. A young woman in furs slides over to the doorkeeper and, lost in her charms, the doorman accompanies her to the counter. Losing no time, Alma rushes inside and disappears into the building.
Her heart pounding, Alma looks around the corridor. Another door, slightly ajar, catches her eye. She peeks in and sees rows upon rows of books in a dimly lit room, hundreds of leather-bound tomes lining the walls, a collection she imagines must contain every last secret concerning the art of jewellery-making. ‘The History of Enamelling’ stands prominent on the top left, which she recognizes from Uncle Albert’s own library. She could pore through these books for hours, but there is no more time to waste. She turns over in her head the scraps of information that she has overheard about the House of Fabergé’s fabled workshop. The biggest furnaces are in the basement, and every other floor is rumored to house a workshop, each headed up by a different master. Some specialize in silver, others in golden jewellery or objets d’art. But today, she will finally get to see Uncle Albert’s workshop, which is the only one that excels in all three areas. She spots a courtyard with workrooms on both sides, and through the windows she drinks in the sights she has built in her imagination over the years. But she can’t linger here; if someone finds her trespassing, she won’t get a second chance.
As she rushes to the fourth floor, where she has calculated Uncle Albert’s workshop must be, Alma hears Oskar’s words: ‘This is not a place for women, especially one like you. If anyone here caught wind of your strange spells, this family would be finished.’
But then Father’s encouraging voice cuts through her fear, and her resolve hardens. She has been waiting for this moment for too long to be discouraged now.
[ Bio ]
Ina Christova is a Bulgarian writer. When not travelling around the world, she splits her time between London and Oxford. She completed an MA in English and German Literature where she was the recipient of the Eleanor Boyle and Kathleen Major prizes for her writing. Ina’s work has been longlisted for the Blue Pencil First Novel Awards and it won this year’s Novel London Literary Competition. The first draft of The Fabergé Girl was completed on the selective Curtis Brown Creative Course in London.
X ~ @Ina_Christova
