As an epitaph to his autobiographical essay This desire points meClaire Legendre quotes, as she did in Bermuda (Leméac, 2020), his previous novel, a Quebec writer and a French author, Marie Uguay and Georges Bataille, such a reminder of the hybridity of his journey and his identity. The first says this: “On the other side of desire there is no serenity, there is nothing. Nothing. » The second, more optimistic, retorts: “To love without doubt is the furthest possible. »
These two facets of fantasy — lack and vital force — are at the heart of the essay by the Montreal author of French origin who, based on an experience of a decade of involuntary celibacy, dissects the complex avenues of desire, including sexual desire, desire to please, desire to possess, and desire for influence, which manifest in the absence and expectation of love.
You don’t have to look far to understand that these questions have obsessed the writer for several years already. In Bermudaloves only existed in their impossibility of happening. Truth and love (Grasset, 2013) probed the pitfalls of sentimentality, while The skinned alive (Grasset, 2009) explored the power of the gaze of others in self-concept.
However, it was during an invitation to a conference on desire that the project of a book entirely devoted to this subject came to fruition. “In the call for papers, there were the words “the drama of desire,” says the writer, seated in a café in Plateau-Mont-Royal. It immediately appealed to me, because I like to think about the mechanisms of behavior and relationships, and it summed up what I had been interested in in recent years. I wanted to write something that was more systematic, that perhaps took a bit of the form of The water lily and the spider [Les Allusifs, 2015], in which I explored the symptoms and sources of fear in the form of a list. » The result is ultimately more constructed and linear, more focused on reflection and connections, but just as invested and anchored in the personal experience of its author.
Filling the gaping hole of loneliness
Looking back on her ten years of solitude, Claire Legendre sought to understand the fictions and fantasies she created to fill the gap and survive celibacy and its “steamroller violence”. “I was in a relationship from 18 to 32 years old. When I came out, I found myself without any bearings. Social existence is really different when you are alone, especially after 30. At the same time, I was also experiencing immigration. By going home alone in the evening, I hardened myself. I tried to review all the expedients that we find to overcome loneliness, in particular consumption and dating applications, which allow us to lull ourselves with dreams, with imagination, with possibilities, by letting us believe that everything can change with the click of a button. »
These fictitious desires concocted in the comfort of our homes, however, take the form of a trap; to exist and continue, they cannot be filled. “So that’s the Platonic perspective. Etymologically, desire would be the absence of a star or the tension towards this star. I wondered what would become of me if I had nothing left to hope for. As a novelist, it’s important to have something to desire, to imagine that is not in my daily life. I had this romantic idea that we are so much more interesting when we are unhappy. I fight against these mythologies of women writers. »
Furthermore, dating apps are designed so that love seems accessible, without ever becoming too real. Indeed, what would they be worth if each of these users found their soul mate? Ironically, the meeting is therefore incidental to it. “These apps are so consumer-driven that they force us to establish a set of criteria that are impossible for one person to meet. What ultimately prevents the encounter is that the other becomes obliterated by his image, his concept and his profile before I can have access to him. »
Make the desires of others your own
As Claire Legendre clearly points out, desire, in order to persevere, is extracted from the possible relationship between two human beings. He must find intellectual approval which comes first and foremost through the judgment of others. “My desire is not discriminatory,” she writes. Only my imagination and my narcissism are. »
“We become a little prisoners of these absurd prerequisites that we have created for ourselves with our culture, our family, our circle of friends,” emphasizes the author. Is it possible to go beyond initial attraction? Is there finally a moment when we throw away all social injunctions and find ourselves face to face with ourselves and with others, for what we really are? »
According to the essayist, the same process begins when it comes to consumption in the material sense. “The desire for material possession is also an attempt to stimulate the desire of others. We play a three-cushion billiards game: I desire what I believe others desire, and if I have it, I believe they will end up desiring me, metonymically,” she remarks in her book.
Everything is reinforced by the contemporary hegemony of influence, an industry built entirely around desire and desire. “Will there be anything left if I dissociate myself from all these influences that weigh on me? I don’t know. We can refuse the injunctions that Instagram offers us, but it is more difficult to detach ourselves from those transmitted by our parents, our family imagination, our network or romantic mythologies. I believe that we still have the possibility of making choices, but we have to be extremely vigilant. »
While writing, love finally made its way into Claire Legendre’s life. Suddenly, his desire was fixed, found an object to embody. Fortunately, his fears did not materialize. “I understood that it is not because our desire comes true that all the rest of the imagination disappears. I discover that happy imagination is better able to embrace the world. After this long period of solitude and introspection, I want to rediscover a romantic impulse, to return to fiction. I also want to give voice to others. » We can’t help but look forward to what’s next!