A coffee with Alain Farah | The word that defines Alain and Farah

Not so long ago, I sent a tiny note to Alain Farah, calling him as so many people call him, “Farah”.

I forget the exact words, but the message was: Farah, you are kind.

I’ve only known him for a short time and I didn’t really know him when I wrote a column^⁠1 on his wonderful book of humanity, identity and Quebecness, A thousand secrets, a thousand dangersa UFO book, in the sense that it was a critical and popular success…

I am not a writer. But from this environment, I have distant echoes, undoubtedly distorted, about deadly rivalries, small and big hatreds between writers. I’m not saying that literature is more inclined to bitchiness than genius. I’m telling you what I read between the lines when book fair regulars have two drinks in their noses…

Not Farah, ever.

And Farah, on her social networks, spent the last Book Fair praising everyone who came across the lens of her phone, with heartfelt and emphatic words.

I thought he would make a good guest for the “Coffee with” section on the theme of kindness. In this era of anger and vileness which has the gift of reaping likesFarah embodies, it seems to me, a light that we all need.

He accepted the coffee and that was the first thing I said to him, after he sat down with his chai latte:

“You’re nice, Alain…”

I realized that “Farah” is for writing, in person, I always call him “Alain”. And I also realized that the word “nice” made him wince, it darkened his face a little, above his tie, which he always wears when he is performing, even at the café.

“In France, “gentil” is an insult… They have this word, “stupid”. »

I tell him yes, but no: that’s not at all how I perceive it. I feel sincere kindness when he praises others, when he rejoices in the success of others. I tell Farah that this ostentatious rejoicing in the face of other people’s successes is out of place in life…

There, Alain Farah’s face becomes luminous again: “It’s not a stunt, he said. It’s sincere. Above all, it doesn’t take anything away from you when others get something. This difficulty that people have in celebrating others is perhaps based on a worry that it will take something away from them. »

I will give you an example of this kindness of Alain, of this sincere rejoicing…

A year and a half ago, I was in Paris for a few days. The stars meant that Alain was there too. One evening, we walked, we had supper. He had been in France for some time, to respond to all invitations related to A thousand secrets, a thousand dangers. He did a lot of canvassing with booksellers to talk about his book, to encourage them to read it and talk about it. It seems to be crucial in France.

He wanted to “sell” his book, of course, an immense success in Quebec (tens of thousands of copies sold, the Governor General’s Award, a film by Philippe Falardeau to come, the second largest success of the house Le Quartanier , After The plunger by Stéphane Larue), but Farah also wanted to prepare the ground for her next novel…

And “preparing the ground” meant making oneself known beyond the front page of the literary notebook^⁠2 from Journal The world (another mark of the success of A thousand secrets, a thousand dangers), it was precisely to make a name for himself so that his next novel could sneak into the finalists of the major French literary prizes…

And there, move the cursor forward one year.

Kevin Lambert, young Quebec author, is catapulted into the literary stratospheres of the French-speaking world with May our joy remain : the novel flirts with the Goncourt, before winning the Décembre and Médicis prizes.

Anyone other than Farah could have just said nothing. But that’s not knowing Alain well: at each stage, the author of A thousand secrets, a thousand dangers celebrated the success of Kevin Lambert.

“You sent me your little note about the prizes won by Kevin. I was happy for him for December. But the Medici! He beat all the odds! He’s a guy I admire both literary and for his way of coping, like when he had a hard time on the issue of sensitive readers³⁠. Me, at 31 years old, I would never have been able to win the Medici. I’m not capable at 45! »

We start talking about envy, a widespread sin. A feeling that perhaps prevents so many people from rejoicing in the success of others…

Alain Farah cites his family origins, his Christian family from the Middle East, his father was born in Egypt.

I point out to him that A thousand secrets, a thousand dangers was a huge success. I point out to him that not everyone is afraid of the evil eye.

“Have you been aware of the desires of others? »

He takes another sip, thinks about it. I feel that Farah is weighing her words. He ends up giving a diplomatic answer, no, no bad words, no bullshit, he assures me. Before adding:

“The worst thing in this environment is the silence.

— Are there people from whom you thought you would receive congratulations, but who said nothing?

– Yeah, adds Farah, and at the same time… You can’t keep a list. »

Another silence, then his face breaks into guilty laughter:

“But I did it!” »

The conversation takes all kinds of turns. About a Parisian bookseller, Théodore Dillerin, who fell in love with A thousand secrets, a thousand dangers, who sold 400 alone, in his bookstore Le Comptoir des mots. About his working method (preparation, with notebooks and pencils; writing on the computer, relying on the handwritten plan). About his allergy to power, his disillusionment with those in power…

This novel by Farah is an ode to immigration without sentimentality, the story of immigrants who were all Quebecized in a few years. The story of a son of immigrants, Farah, who straddles several cultures – Christian, Egyptian, Quebecois, hip-hop (!) – and is deeply, unmistakably Quebecois…

I remind him of that evening last summer, when he showed me the places of his childhood, Cartierville, Saint-Laurent, Little Lebanon.

I talk to him about this divide between Montreal and the rest of Quebec.

“If you had to give a guided tour to someone who had prejudices about Montreal, where would you take them?

— One, I spend time with her. It wouldn’t just be a tourist visit. »

The conversation drags on (I top up my parking meter twice) and deviates again to A thousand secrets, a thousand dangers, popular wherever he goes outside of Montreal; on his father, who experiences disillusionment with the health system; on female authors, who have to deal with misogynistic attacks when success knocks at their door…

And Farah names those he appreciates, as women and as feathers: India Desjardins, Daphnée B., Emmanuelle Pierrot…

I think, rereading the notes of my interview: Sacred Alain, again and again shedding light on others…

Do you know what, Farah?

OK, we’re going to delete the word “nice”.

And we’ll take the one you prefer, and maybe it suits you even better…

Your generousAlan.