Like a long tank crash, it is the first novel by Joël Martel, a character on the Quebec Web known for his offbeat and good-natured humor. Against all expectations, he talks to us about death, the last subject we would have imagined him writing about. And yet, he makes us laugh to the point of tears and moves us to tears, all while telling us stories of reassuring and luminous simplicity.
The book by the forty-year-old Almatois presents itself as a string of pearls, a series of short, brilliant anecdotes. Even if there is continuity in the tone, you don’t need to know his video clips and comical Facebook publications to appreciate each gem. He takes the reader by the hand and guides him into his universe, he presents his gang. But those who have read his columns in different media will recognize the tact with which he notes the significant snippets of everyday life.
When finishing the interview, we feel the same feeling that when finishing the book: a capsizing of emotions. Throughout the discussion there are laughs, deep thoughts, moments of pure authenticity, and even references to MC Hammer.
According to the author, this first novel “is a book about the dead world”. Joël Martel starts this from the outset with the most benevolent of frank speaking. He provided this short and striking summary to the few people who asked him, over the last few days: “What is your book about?” » But he notes that it is not the “ pitch sales” of the year. “It’s heavy, and then I try to pull myself together by swearing to them that it’s not that bad…”
To reassure everyone, let us point out that it is a book based on characters who surrounded the author and whom he loved deeply. These are little “99%” autobiographical stories, he calculates, told with casual gentleness and disarming humor. “There is fiction, but it’s in the way of telling it,” he explains.
“I like the same stories as everyone else, but I like the versions of those who smoke ‘topes’ outside. When I write a story, I try to imagine that I’m out there with people I love, people who might not have had a place at the dinner table, but who shine outside , all of a sudden, when they have a cigarette in their mouth. » And it’s a perfect image to open a door to the world of Joël Martel: his heroes are everyday, imperfect, but beautiful in their authenticity.
“Not that serious”
As he tells us about his mother’s illness, his perinatal bereavements, the breath in the heart of his “Monuncle Yvon” or the wanderings of the central character, his father, Jici, we recognize ourselves, we recognize our loved ones. It is the echo of realities that everyone experiences one day: hospital waiting rooms, small talk around a loved one or not so close one who is suffering from cancer, the anxiety at the idea of visiting someone in palliative care… In short, Joël Martel reminds us with simplicity that death is part of life . For example, he writes: “One day, my grandmother told me that she had a presentiment that she would die soon. Since she had said that to me as if she were warning me that she was going to the grocery store, I laughed wildly, hoping that she would defuse the situation by bursting out laughing in turn, but she simply smiled and told me that it was “not that serious”. »
So why write about death if it’s “not that bad”? He explains that he had dreamed of writing a book for over 20 years, since university. But, at the end of his university career, his position as a librarian took away his desire to write his novel. Beautiful paradox. The quality of the literary production to which he had access made him doubt his talent and his relevance. A teacher also pointed out to him that “everyone has a good idea for a novel, but very few find the right way to tell it.” For several years, he satisfied the need to write by publishing a regular column in the newspaper The Daily of Saguenay–Lac-Saint-Jean. It felt like he was slowly writing a book, “one page at a time.” Moreover, his texts were also included in The sun from Quebec, which allowed him to develop an even wider readership, but without knowing it. He was unaware that his writing was read in Quebec; this “detail” had escaped him. This candor is pure Joël Martel.
Then, the idea of Like a long tank crash hit him when his father was living his last moments. The irony was that Jici had often told him that one day he was going to write him a book in which he would collect all his anecdotes. “His case never made much progress,” says Joël, laughing. But the strangest thing is that Jici comes back to life in her son’s book. It’s so beautiful, especially considering the contrast. “I was angry with him for a long time,” explains Joël. He learned to love this imperfect, absent father and inveterate smoker “late in life”. Jici’s incredible life anecdotes became a warm bond for an otherwise dysfunctional father-son relationship. “His death perhaps gave life to my career as an author,” he raises. Quite a legacy for an absent father.
Make humor out of death?
Freud said that humor is a means of defense against death. Maybe it is. But can we really make humor out of death? Did the author impose limits on himself? “I think you can laugh very well at death, but if it belongs to you. I’m comfortable laughing at my death. It’s inevitable […] I think we can laugh at his and those that belong to us. I wouldn’t be comfortable laughing at someone else’s death, even someone I hated. » These deaths that belong to us are those of our loved ones, those who upset us, those who mourn us.
Thus, Joël’s benevolent humor plays down the tragedy and brings peace. Ultimately, this book could do a lot of good for people going through difficult stages. “That would make me really happy, and I can tell you that writing has given me that too. »