In the story Name the livingfirst book by Mélilot de Repentigny, “winter remains an ordeal” where her alter ego, Myrique, is prey to suicidal thoughts, haunted by “these reassuring ropes and their saving knot”.
At the opening of the story, Myrique, openly non-binary, is at her lowest: “ [J]Observe the small bruise that has formed where I was injected in the morning for phlebitis. Near this bruise my liver is fighting. If he has the same strength and courage as me, he will give up soon. » Myrique has swallowed a hundred Tylenols and is looking for her bearings in the psychiatric wing of the hospital.
Around, other beings experience other struggles, whose distress is sometimes anchored in reality with absurdity: “To calm her down, we yell at her to stop yelling. » To bring out its depth and find something to nourish, perhaps, a little hope, Myrique undertakes to recognize, describe and name this humanity in crisis.
In the process, the anonymous walls of the hospital are adorned with faces, moments and encounters snatched from the void. The nursing staff and, above all, people with various mental health problems then become characters flooded with light. This caring projection is therapeutic for Myrique, who is finally released from the hospital. But the end of one cycle is unfortunately only the beginning of another.
From Montreal, Myrique moved to Rimouski, to fill her need to reconnect with the territory, the horizon, the river and the diversity of trees. Indeed, the generosity of nature and its exhilarating mushroom pickings prove beneficial… until the return of winter: “ [L]Suicidal thoughts always come back, again and again, like a well-trodden path from which it is impossible to deviate since it crosses a much too dense forest population. »
The providential flora
In a biographical deprivation which recalls the courage of Notches by Marie-Élaine Guay, but carried by a more delicate language, the proposition deploys a systematic empathy, sculpted in respect for others and the grandeur of living things. The horizon is covered repeatedly, but the words stay the course.
Several secondary subjects run through this intimate quest which, without seeking to fuel a debate, enriches our view of the psychiatric aid network and our relationship to forests and living things, in general. Laurentian flora by Brother Marie-Victorin is also at the heart of a moving climax, which takes the form of a tribute to the rhythm, diversity and richness of the flora.
This flight, as close as possible to a truth, even fragile, even vulnerable, is gut-wrenching. She embodies what is most beautiful and strongest in this story: the power of words which allow us to tame life and celebrate its jewels. Name the living, in short, to reroot yourself there.