Living things are in danger. It is cruel to say it, anxiety-inducing to remember it, and exhausting to repeat it. Climate catastrophe threatens life that took millennia to generate and, every day, many plant and animal species disappear. But what do we know about these living species with which we coexist?
They make their way through the cracked concrete of the streets, populate the forests, scent the springs and outline the sky. For some time now, the titles of children’s literature which make them their subject have multiplied, striving to represent them, to stage them, to describe them and, through them, to tell stories. What do these works tell us, what are the motivations that drive their creators and, finally, what emerges from our imagination when we suddenly start to name the living things that surround us?
Name, for love
In the introduction to his magnificent work Our flowers, Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette writes: “To love Nature, you have to know how to name what makes it up. It’s difficult to say that we like “people”, in general… but it’s easy to say: I like Manoé, Ulysses, Mishka; I love Edmond, Oscar, Albert, Romane, Mai, Lou and Jules; I love these people and I know how to name them. And if I love them, I want to protect them. »
Can we love without knowing or, at the very least, recognizing? Julie Lanthier, author of Feather and enchantment — ecological fable where, through the will of animals, life returns to the world —, wanted to reweave the broken thread between the forms of life. “It’s easier to protect what you know and what you love. At the school where I worked in Minganie, few children went to the forest, and this disconnect worried me. I wanted to invite the children into the woods so that they develop an attachment and want to preserve it. »
For Mathilde Cinq-Mars, to whom we owe the illustrations of Our flowersbut also Our birds, in particular, it is not enough to represent the species to arouse interest. Rather, embody them in their relationship to the living and infuse them with a unique character, this is the invitation she offers to the young readership. “For me, flowers are friends. While drawing them, I found it obvious that they had their personality, their look, their environment. And when I received the texts from Anaïs, I felt that it was that for her too, and it did me good to hear, through her, the voice of these flowers. »
An approach that Agathe Tupula Kabola, speech therapist, columnist and author, encourages, emphasizing that the child learns better in a more authentic setting than through a simple representation taken out of context. “Between an apple that we designate in a picture book and the one that we encounter in the orchard, there is a world of difference. Afterwards, we come home, we can wash the apple, peel it, cut it, we can make a pie from it, it’s a much richer learning experience. Because there is suddenly a whole network of meaning in the apple, rather than the simple representation of the image. »
Living stories
Having had the chance, at a very young age, to have a real encounter with plants, Iris Boudreau, creator of Gervais and Conrad — documentary comic which humorously addresses flora — has since maintained a special attachment to them. It was therefore natural for him to draw on his memories to approach the flora. “I have a relationship with plants that goes back to my childhood, in my relationship with my mother — who cooks and transforms wild plants — and through my bond with my grandparents. My grandmother, for example, taught me to use plantain to soothe itchy insect bites. »
It is by seeking to recreate this friendly spirit, which summons the senses, and through humor, which transforms learning into play, that Iris Boudreau wanted to transmit her love of plants. “I wanted to talk about the nettle, because my connection with the nettle goes back to my French grandparents, and also because the nettle is a little unloved. Its flowers are not particularly beautiful and, what’s more, it stings. It also allowed me to add a recipe, and I love putting recipes in my books. »
When we integrate ourselves into life in this way, instead of just looking at it from a distance, our connection to other species is rebuilt and, better yet, multiplied. This is how, in turn, as Mathilde Cinq-Mars tells us, flowers revive stories. “I created bouquets with wild flowers and it was amazing how people, as soon as they got their noses in the bouquet, started telling me stories that the smell of the flowers had brought to life. »
When we give voice to other forms of life, the whole world regains its colors. For Julie Lanthier, animals are not only endearing or impressive, they are a true inspiration. “We are still the only animal that destroys the environment in which it lives. Unlike our over-consumer society, animals only take what they need. I think this is an example to follow. »
A memory to preserve
Recognizing and naming species, out of love and for the sake of the world, seems necessary, especially as it involves the preservation of a memory. By reappropriating these names of the living, we also perpetuate a link with those who preceded us.
Evoking the magnificent Nutshimit, by Mélissa Mollen-Dupuis and Élise Gravel, Agathe Tupula Kabola reminds us that certain denominations are sometimes dependent on a single language. “Some indigenous languages have, for example, specific terms to designate fauna and flora – some of which are specific to their territory – and if a language disappears, it takes with it unique and specific knowledge. »
This is what encourages Mathilde Cinq-Mars to use a designation anchored in the territory: “I like to use popular terms to name flowers. Often, they are linked to a time of year, an element of our culture or our territory. »
Through the power of words, human beings find their roots and can thus invite themselves into the great dance of life without risking losing their footing. Thus rooted, strong and open, these creators, through their stories and the transmission of their knowledge, hope to reverse the trend and breathe hope into a world that sorely needs it. A world, Mathilde Cinq-Mars reminds us, in which we do not have to play the bad role. “We are one of those flowers. We can sow them, we can help the tillers to develop. We are in dialogue with what surrounds us. We do not have to see ourselves only as destroyers of nature, but as those who can accompany and help it. I have a fairly positive vision of the link we can have with the planet. »