Before Mélanie
April 16, 2010
Hello Nicole,
I’m in Mexico City taking part in a writing residency. For seven years now, I’ve lived with Le désert mauve always present in one corner or other of my mind. I’m always spreading the word. My new writing project is based on the character of Mélanie. I want to give tangible form to the mental image I have of her. I look for potential Mélanies in Mexico. And an Angela Parkins too and a Grazie. In short, I’m writing to tell you that this has led to me passing out copies of El desierto malva on the fly (not exactly but I like the expression). I also wanted to tell you two things :
- even today you can find copies of El desierto malva relatively easily in Mexico City. I’ve bought three new copies and one used (after only three used bookstores).
- I am creating new Nicole Brossard fans, including Lyliana Chavéz, 24 years old. A young, militant feminist, who was telling me just the day before yesterday that she wants to do a university paper on your novel.
I just wanted to tell you.
Love,
Simon
May 13, 2010
Dear Simon,
So good to hear from you and know that you are in Mexico City, where I can picture you working away.
Thank you for your words about Le désert mauve. I’m surprised that it’s still so easy to find El Desierto malva and if ever you come across two or three more copies, I would be happy to buy them from you.
When you return, you’ll find a paperback copy of Désert mauve which Typo just published. I’ll mail it to you before I leave in ten days for Spain, Namur and Paris.
I’m looking forward to the reading you are organizing in Québec City on October 20.
Here’s hoping that one day you can put your reading of Désert mauve into images.
Have a great stay and happy writing. I look forward to hearing from you, in poetry or in prose.
Warmly,
Nicole
May 14, 2010
Dear Nicole,
Regarding the Typo edition of Désert mauve, I’d say it’s about time! Is it a critical edition? Isn’t that always the case with Typo? Either way, I look forward to it. I feel a bit removed from the academic world now, but I’m still curious if anyone I know worked on it! I say I feel removed from the academic world, but I’m increasingly aware of how much my studies still influence my work, whether it’s writing or directing. By this I mean that, with a background in literature, I stand out from my colleagues who come from theatre or video.
Yes, I will try to buy more copies of El desierto malva. I will also try to find it in English.
Have a great trip. When will you be in Paris? I’ll be there from June 12 to 20. I must put my residency on hold to go present our (Rhizome) Mexican project at the Enghien-les-Bains digital arts festival (bainsnumeriques.fr/). It would be nice to meet up!
Un abrazo, dos besos,
Simon
June 10, 2010
Dear Nicole,
El desierto malva may not be so easy to find anymore in Mexico City. I think I’ve already cleared out a good chunk of the stock, at least downtown. I bought all three copies they had at FONCA’s cultural bookstore. I found two more in used bookstores. I won’t be bringing many back to Quebec though, I’m distributing them. I loaned one copy and gave away three others. I will try to bring back two, one for you and one for me.
The people I “forced” to read Le désert mauve were all struck by the experience. For instance, I asked a student and a philosopher to pick a character, describe them to me, imagine a meeting with this character, then a dialogue. I’m currently translating.
I also strongly encouraged a friend from Québec to pick up a copy of the book and read it. Which she did. She read it in one night. Here’s what she wrote me the next day:
Simon,
I bought Le désert mauve last night. There was only one copy left in the “Québecois literature” section of the bookstore. I went home. I was exhausted. I planned on going straight to bed. But I decided to have a bath. Standing in the water, I remembered the book. I left the bathroom to retrieve it from the bottom of my bag still by the door. I had forgotten that my windows were wide open.
I plunged into my bath with the book. From the first pages, I felt my whole body absorbed by the desert. The water and the sand singularly opposed one another. On and under my skin.
The night before, I was writing to Neri and Georgina and talking to Julia about the relationship between the body and the imagination, between reality and writing: the epistolary relationship between the physical and the imagined, the relationship with the other through writing. So when I read “I cannot get close to any you” I got a chill. This sentence cut to the heart of my reflection.
I inhaled the rest of the book over two cups of tea, ensconced in my couch cushions.
I had forgotten my resolution to go to bed early.
I had forgotten to keep my BlackBerry close: my colleagues’ frantic messages went unanswered.
This morning, the gloomy cloud that had been following me for days dissipated a bit. It’s true that the sun came out after a week of rain in the real world, too.
I got a call from a dear friend who had just returned from a pilgrimage in Asia. She asked me how my writing was going. I told her that my computer died suddenly with all my work. But I thought I could find it again. Somewhere in the middle of the desert.
The urban desert of Mexico City. The asphalt desert of the road.
And the desert of… Sonora. I don’t know if it’s mauve or yellow.
He is pouting at me from a distance. Chides me for not remembering him anymore. We’ve already met. In Arizona. In Tempe. When the taxi driver refused to take me to Phoenix, at night, despite all the money I was willing to give him. He said it was too dangerous. Especially for a young woman, alone. And that Phoenix, at night, is empty… so as not to say a desert, that would be too easy. He’d prefer to take me to Scottsdale. Leave me at a shopping centre, near the golf courses. On the way we saw the sun going down on the rocks and set among the cacti. I spent the evening wandering through little galleries and artisan boutiques. I discovered that painter from New Mexico, whose name I can’t remember now. I want to say Garcia. But that too would be too easy. I don’t know anymore. Anyway, I remember the paintings. Parking lots. Shopping malls. Straight, dry lines. And portraits. Striking. Real. A self-portrait.
I had asked the gallerist why parking lots. He thought I wanted to find a spot for my car. Told me how to get to the shopping centre. I explained to him that I wanted to talk about the paintings. He seemed shocked that someone was interested in art. He must have been used to questions about restaurants nearby and souvenir shops. He talked to me about realism in American painting. About the transformation of southern landscapes in the 1950s. Concrete growing in the desert. Straight lines on curves. Ugliness. Meaningless. The creation of man dominating man, the swallowing. Long shadows on the asphalt.
Long shadow of a man.
Longman.
So there, I still feel like I’m coming back to that text.
Well, Simon, I think we have a friend in common. Waiting for us somewhere at 2 o’clock Mexican time.
When will see him?
i would be a bit embarrassed if you shared my e-mail, I didn’t even re-read it and it’s full of mistakes. Part of me doesn’t want to correct it though, there is almost meaning in my dyslexia: with rapprocher instead of reprocher and faner instead of flâner. Any inherent poetry was unintentional. Plus I would feel like I was cheating if I took out the mistakes. I don’t like things that are staged. (lies)
She was not keen on me sending you this message, in part because of the French mistakes in it :
i would be a bit embarrassed if you shared my e-mail, I didn’t even re-read it and it’s full of mistakes. Part of me doesn’t want to correct it though, there is almost meaning in my dyslexia: with rapprocher instead of reprocher and faner instead of flâner. Any inherent poetry was unintentional. Plus I would feel like I was cheating if I took out the mistakes. I don’t like things that are staged. (lies)
This gave me pause then I felt it was too great a shame to deprive you of the pleasure. A few days later, she wrote me again: “I read La nef des sorcières over the weekend. Nicole Brossard is my new idol”.
These days I am a Nicole Brossard fan generator, which brings me great pleasure.
I leave for Paris tomorrow.Simon
Simon
June 11, 2010
My dear Simon,
I don’t know if I am in a fiction of a fiction, but the gift of your message touches me in the way of that which moves life in us. I don’t know where this zone is, but it is vital for the mysterious mingling of love of life and melancholy that flows in our veins.
Particularly today when we are going to Charleville to read poems on Arthur Rimbaud’s grave. We are leaving in an hour on the Meuse.
I get back to Paris on the 14 at night. There will be interesting young Catalan poets that I met in Palma at the market.
Thank you for your words and those of your friend.
Talk soon,
Nicole
April 22, 2011
Dear Nicole,
I’m getting married. I don’t think you’ve met Julia. Not yet. We’ve been together for almost four years. I met her in Québec City when she was doing a kind of Ontario-Québec exchange. She was in Women’s Studies at Trent University at the time. I told her about you immediately and introduced her to Mauve Desert. She later unearthed a feminist Ontarian magazine in which the first page proclaimed “This is what a Quebecois feminist looks like” with a photo of you. I have since lost the magazine. We are sad. Julia is my love and my Ontarian feminist.
So we’re getting married. It will be on August 6 on l’Île-aux-Coudres. We rented the Lislet Motel, the whole thing. It’s on the western point of the island. The location is wonderful.
Julia and I are each asking friends and/or people we admire and/or both to participate in a kind of ceremony-performance, a wedding cabaret if you will, where poets, musicians and other artists can take turns giving short performances for the occasion. Would you, could you participate? We would be very honoured!
There would of course be a room for you at the motel.
Warm regards,
Simon
April 27, 2011
My dear Simon,
What a lovely invitation and what joy ahead.
I happily accept your invitation and I will be there.
As you know, Mélanie from Désert mauve drives on highways but not me.
I will find a solution (particularly between Québec City and the island) and I have time to think about it.
I’ll wait to hear from you and I’m looking forward to meeting Julia and seeing you again as a young newlywed.
Best wishes,
Nicole
May 2, 2011
Nicole,
I am thrilled you said yes / are able to come!
As for getting to Isle-aux-Coudres, I am sure something will work out.
I don’t know what your role will be in our wedding cabaret yet, I’ll give you more information in June.
I assure you it won’t be anything too arduous.
Julia is equally as delighted to be finally meeting you. She’s heard a lot about you and your work since she met me.
Love,
Simon
May 22, 2011
Dear Simon and Dear Julia.
It was a pleasure to see you on May 6.
I received your announcement.
I will be there, possibly with someone. If not, unfortunately I don’t think I’m up for sharing (the room).
I apologize. Call it the privilege of the effects of time.
It will be for the night of August 6.
No diet restrictions
I’m responding by e-mail because I don’t have the address for the card.
I’m really looking forward to it. In the meantime, I’m off to Paris on Tuesday. Back at the end of June.
My love to both of you and enjoy the start of summer.
Nicole