Excerpt | Hubert Reeves: “A great chance to have lived”

The day Hubert Reeves died, his luminous reflections on life and death came back to us. He was one of 14 octogenarians and nonagenarians we interviewed two years ago for our collection 80, 90, 100 per hour!. At the time, the astrophysicist was still so busy! He was preparing to write a new book, giving conferences… and practicing the art of wonder full time. Today we present to you an excerpt from this interview.



Your autobiography, which you published in 2008, is entitled I will not have time. A very evocative title for someone as active as you… Could you tell us about it?

It’s the title of a popular song by Michel Fugain. That means I won’t have time to explore such a big universe. I monitor scientific progress in all areas very closely. This is my passion. But I am frustrated at the idea that, in a short time, I will no longer read these scientific journals which teach me so much. You see, my frustration is knowing that knowledge will continue to develop, but that I will no longer have access to it. At least, as far as I know, because I have no reason to think that the possibility of learning can continue beyond the death of the body. Often, I get up at night to learn things, I tell myself that I will take advantage of it because one day I will no longer be able to read my magazines Nature Or Sciencethe ones that excite me the most.

Wait… Do you get up at night wanting to understand the world?

Yes ! This has happened to me several times when, for example, I knew that there was an interesting article that had been published, which explains something that I don’t know or understand. There were times when I stayed up late at night trying to figure it out. When I was a student, even when I was sick, I always attended classes given by good teachers. It was something very important to me. It’s like an emergency to live, an urgency to know this famous world in which we have landed. I would like to understand what the meaning of this life is. Maybe I’ll never know, and that’s the thing that frustrates me the most. What are we doing on this planet where there are, at the same time, such beautiful and such ugly things? Where were the Nazis and Mozart?

Do you think about these questions a lot more today than when you were 50?

Yes quite. And I see it through all these people who are interested in astronomy. It is very attractive to older people because they feel that they are approaching things that are difficult to understand. They say that astronomy, the universe, has a link with these questions. I myself am very curious to learn everything about astronomy. And I want to learn other things. When we are young, we are active, we are busy. When we’re older, we come back to these deep questions. What does that mean? What is this life all about? What are we doing here? And I believe that science can teach us things about this. Not about the ultimate goal of life – that, I think, is beyond us. But on the framework of this life. What is this universe in which we exist? What is this planet where life appeared? Why doesn’t it seem to have appeared elsewhere on another planet? These questions always fascinate me, I can’t stop thinking about them and discussing them.

In one of your books, you quote Françoise Dolto who said, to those whose imminent death plunged them into sadness, that “death is a normal thing, it is an event linked to life”. Are you as serene as she was with the very idea of ​​death?

I couldn’t tell you that. I often spoke with Françoise Dolto and I liked the way she said that we are very lucky to be born, to have come into the world, to have experienced human life. I really liked his very serene way of contemplating death. And I said to myself that maybe this is the attitude we need to take after all. I think we must first be content with what we have, tell ourselves that we are extremely lucky, and that we cannot ask for more. I don’t see in what capacity we could do this. Especially since we, Canadians, have had fantastic advantages if we compare ourselves to other peoples, whose children are dying of hunger, where war is raging. We are truly privileged. I have never been hungry in my life, I have never had to sleep outside. Why was I privileged? I do not know. I can ask myself questions, but I won’t find an answer. I can thank… Thank who? I would say I can thank life. I consider it a great happiness, a great chance, to have lived.

80, 90, 100 per hour!  14 inspiring octogenarians and nonagenarians

80, 90, 100 per hour! 14 inspiring octogenarians and nonagenarians

Editions La Presse

2021


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