Mon père ne m'a jamais dit pourquoi il était mort ("My father never told me why he died"), by Anne Fleischman
It's rare to follow an author from the beginning of her evolution. I read all three of Anne Fleischman's books as soon as they came out: Cuba Libre, Une île dorée ("A Golden Island"), and now Mon père ne m'a jamais dit pourquoi il était mort ("My father never told me why he died"). Each time, I am impressed: her first novel was funny for real, her second was, I would say, even better written than the first, and with her third, it becomes more serious. This last book is definitely my favorite.
Summary
We find Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a highly sympathetic retired gynecologist whom we have known since Une île dorée ("A Golden Island"). While waiting at the airport, an old acquaintance tells him his story. He says that his father, a policeman he holds in low esteem, was killed in a train robbery. What was he doing there, throwing himself into danger when all he did was fill out paperwork in everyday life? He doesn't know, but blames it on stupidity. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, on the other hand, can't get it out of his head. He decides to conduct his own little investigation. Thanks to his natural charm, his intelligence and his perseverance (and the time available, let's say it), he gradually retraces the reasons for the drama.
Impressions
As I said, this is my favorite book by the author. I was happy to find Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the brilliant eccentric who exudes kindness, and I was touched by this darker story, which tells the tragedy of two brothers with a complex relationship, and whose respective children admired their uncle at the expense of their father. No one is black or white in this story, including Jean-Jacques, and that's why we love them.
I am wary of accounts of the past, which are often surrounded by a halo of melancholy. But here, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who does not talk about his own family, plays the role of referee, and leaves the reader the possibility of forming his own opinion in the face of the sometimes contradictory accounts of the witnesses. This return in time allows an honest portrait of the people we are talking about, allows a real clarification, and I find that rare.
There is something special about Anne's writing. If you are looking for a new Quebec author, start following her. I have a feeling that her talent is only going to grow.
Mon père ne m'a jamais dit pourquoi il était mort ("My father never told me why he died")
Anne Fleischman
