Roux clair naturel ("Natural Light Red"), by Fanie Demeule

I too was once a redhead.

Like everyone else, I've had the image of the voluptuous, flamboyant redhead burned into my brain my whole life. For the little blonde that I was, it was an unattainable ideal: hair color is genetic, it doesn't change with age. Until one day, I became friends with this beautiful girl with long, curly, mahogany red hair that went down to the middle of her back. She was beauty incarnate. For the first time in my life, I felt shy in front of a girl. And when I gave her the inevitable compliment about her hair, what she said back turned my belief system upside down:

"Thank you! They're dyed. I used to be a blonde."

And that's how I discovered that such a wonderful color could be artificial.

It goes without saying that when I heard about Roux clair naturel ("Natural Light Red") by Fanie Demeule, I felt called upon. I read it in two days.

Summary

The narrator of the novel was born with Venetian blond hair that seems bland compared to the carrot red of Fifi Brindacier. One day, thanks to dyeing, she can finally have the hair of her dreams. Then, a man arrives. This man has a fetish for redheads. It's love at first sight. She feels that it is the good one. He approaches, he takes a lock of her hair, he is ecstatic. And, unlike my friend, the narrator replies:

"Thank you. It's my natural color."

This little sentence is the starting point of a series of concealments that will pull her further and further into anxiety, obsession and ultimately, into the lowest despair.

Impressions

I was expecting a light story, as is, I thought, the choice to dye one's hair this or that color. On the contrary, the novel is crossed by an astonishing suspense. Impossible to stop. The sentences are short, effective. The narrator gets so bogged down in her lie that we worry about the moment when, inevitably, everything will fall. Or do we hope for that moment? I alternated between the two feelings. In any case, we feel that the narrator is too fragile to undergo such a big shock.

I was struck by the similarity with what I had experienced myself. I know this fascination for red hair, it made me suffer too. And it's not an unimportant adventure to dye your hair red. This desire that people be fooled by the color and have the impression that it is natural, I lived it. People labeled me differently: it was no longer "the little blonde", but "the little redhead". I became an Amazon, at least in my head. My reflection vibrated in the mirror, in the windows of restaurants and buses. I attracted stares. People don't comment on my blonde hair, but when I was a redhead, my hair became a topic of conversation very often.

This autofiction fascinated me. I devoured it. It made me think. I will not forget it.

To learn more about how the author tells her story in Roux clair naturel ("Natural Light Red"), I recommend this interview in La Presse.