At 3492 Laval Avenue, the Writers’ House has creaky floors. I have always loved its sounds, its cozy atmosphere, its libraries and its grand staircase. The Union of Quebec Writers (UNEQ) has maintained its head office there since 1992, renting premises to literary associations for related activities, some of which are open to the public.
This building bears the vestiges of its past on its facade and in its walls. We see them floating between the floors, the posters and the books (several bequeathed by the literary critic Réginald Martel). Filmmaker Claude Jutra lived there for seven years. Gaston Miron pushed his rants and his laughter there. The poet Émile Nelligan, who lived nearby in the 19e century, passed in front of it, like so many regulars of the Square Saint-Louis after him: Gérald Godin, Pauline Julien, Gilles Carle, Xavier Dolan and other colorful birds.
The beautiful heritage home is expensive to operate. Tax problems related to future subsidies from the organization in change of vocation would put the finances of the UNEQ in the red. Its management decided to sacrifice the said white elephant. Bad communications helping, the game got tough.
The planned sale of the place of memory, decried by many, from Gilles Vigneault to Jacques Godbout, was approved by vote of the members in a Zoom meeting on March 29, by a small majority, in a hurry, under technical glitches, after d other agendas. The fate of the building still divides writers. Since the adoption of the new Act respecting the status of the artist, last June, the UNEQ can negotiate collective agreements for authors (like the Union des artistes with performers), and make financial contributions to its troops . Its mandate has grown.
A moratorium of 18 months was approved by the members so that a buyer could be found who would respect the vocation of the place. However, thunderclap: soon, another management team will take over the file. So how can we predict what will happen next?
The UNEQ trembles on its base. Last week, the resignations (which will take effect on May 31) of president Suzanne Aubry, general manager Laurent Dubois and members of the board of directors illustrated the failure of the acrimonious talks. In the same ballot on March 29, voters overwhelmingly voted against imposing union benefits on members and non-members to allow the organization to better negotiate with publishers and represent divided troops. . Paying dues, for some authors, it hurts. Many would like everyone’s economic situation to be taken into account on the contribution side. The devil is with the cows!
One thing is certain: the members of the future leadership have an interest in putting water in their wine to pass the wind of reform, after the failure of their predecessors. Because the box must take control of the activities in one way or another. What to do ? By the way, if the talks surrounding the dues failed even more, would the UNEQ need to sell the house to replenish its coffers? Not clear…
The new Status of the Artist Act, which has been demanded for 20 years, seems, alas, strewn with pitfalls. The literary community feels shaken. Authors used to negotiate their own contracts with publishers for better or for worse. An old cliché assures us: no more individualistic than a writer! This is sometimes true, sometimes not. The UNEQ’s misadventures with countless heartbreaks and virulent letters to newspapers and on social media make the uninitiated dizzy.
Throw in a pot authors of literature and cookbooks, the wealthy and the penniless, the elderly and the blues, rare specimens who live by their pen, those who work elsewhere – already unionized or not — stars and shadow figures, romantics and pragmatists, socialites and misanthropes, Cassandras and jovialists. Bring together several strong personalities skilled in handling words with the habit of fighting, sworn enemies and natural allies. Opposite an ill-prepared administration. It creates a mess. Like on the pages that so many writers have given us to read to vent their anger.
Difficult to see clearly under these entangled wires. Massive arguments are brandished on all sides. At least these fights testify to the passion of the scribes for their flying words. Beyond the uncertain outcomes, one experiences a guilty pleasure in seeing them scrap with such ardor. Proof that with so many musketeers on guard, the book is not about to die. No but…