columbine,
Marie St-Hilaire-Tremblay
After his noctilucus (Les Herbes rouges, 2020), Marie St-Hilaire-Tremblay will offer us columbine (1er November), flower here quite poisonous, covered by lamentations which diminish and those of the sister which increase. In the face of death, the great fear of loneliness invades the mind. The big sister is missing the other. Even if the mother’s complaints always insinuate themselves, the women grow up, leave each other. The living sister goes her way of bereaved. And the question remains whether we can extricate ourselves from the nagging pain of absence. The eldest then gives birth, here, to a daughter “gifted for ghosts”. And this collection questions in depth: “Who dares to heal here? » Poetry then opens up to « pretty dead virgins ». The strangeness of the proposal, not to say its audacity, arouses curiosity. The poet chooses the columbine as the symbol of survival, because this flower is able to resist defoliation. Thus, in front of dead children, in front of death, the collection will pose, it seems, a fundamental question, namely how to resist or cohabit with our dead, if not with death itself.
Atiku Utei. The heart of the Caribou,
Rita Mestokoshō
Atiku Utei. The heart of the Caribou (Mémoire d’encrier, October 14), by Rita Mestokosho, would propose, by its title, to look head-on at the very strength of a people and its humility. Born in Nitassinan in 1966, the author of Ekuanitshit, an Innu community on the North Shore, continues to commit to her land, her culture and her language. His poetry accompanies the march of the living through obstacles, meets the spirits of animals, here expressly the caribou in the heart of forests and drums. Listening also to a great figure like Mandela, here named Madiba, she goes over the poems, as on the very water of obstinate lives. It is towards an immersive healing that the writing of this collection seems to be accomplished, undertaking a journey that is as real as it is interior: “I speak to you of the North / in the manner of the footsteps of the ancestors / silent and respectful // footsteps that touch the seasons / footsteps that climb the mountains / footsteps that know the silence / because I know the North for having listened to it / in great moments of cold. The purpose of this precision work calls for “the healing power of the heart.” It will be a question, when the time comes, of accompanying him in this open quest.
Closer to absence,
Sylvie Dion
In these times of stupefaction, death rallies the poets. Sylvie Dion is no exception, she who, with Closer to absence (The Full Moon, November 2), will dive into this unifying theme. We have known the poet since her Passenger of the intimate (L’Hexagone, 2014) and, this time, she would act as an oracle, situating her collection as a “omen before the pandemic time”. “The starting point of the collection is based in part on the philosophical thought that death ‘defies discourse'”, this is how the editor defines the content of this book, with approaches that could seem off-putting, but which will, hopefully, -the, find the way to a certain light. The collection will go in search of images or representations that would serve (is it illusory?) to counter the implicit silence that smolders. This book should be put into perspective with columbine, by Marie St-Hilaire-Tremblay, whose themes come together strangely; the collection of Sylvie Dion making three voices heard: that of “the companion”, that of “the dying” and that of “the bereaved”.
Cravings,
Anne-Marie Desmeules
Cravings, by Anne-Marie Desmeules (Le Quartanier, October 4), dare to bring into play “the violence that pits women against themselves and against each other”. Risky proposal if there is one, but from the outset courageous. One announces “poems bitter and tender, cynical and afflicted”, which opens formidable prospects, which whets our appetite. Some women seem to have it all, some don’t. Stripping hypocrisy, saying it out loud, revealing the unthinkable, here is a program which, if it keeps its promises, could well reveal one of the strong collections of the season. Anne-Marie Desmeules received the Governor General’s Award and the 2019 Booksellers’ Award for tendon and bone (The hexagon). She will have given us the beautiful Still life with knife (Le Quartanier, 2020). This time, reading the first stanza of “Laure threw her kettle out the window”, part of her cravings, we are already admiring: “enough cooked blood / she says / finger glued to the plate / temple to the iron of the door / and hair flattened by a wind from afar / a wind of hot potatoes / of bread poor and violent. In the same way, other titles of parts make you dream: “We are still talking about Susan-Lee’s pipes” or “Marie-Pierre shoots a line on her shadow”. We are eagerly awaiting the release.
iron wood,
Mireille Gagne
One of the strangest projects of the season will undoubtedly be iron wood (The people, 1er November), by Mireille Gagné. If we dwell on it, it’s because it’s right in tune with the times, as if this book was responding to a fad. “Mireille Gagné signs an ecological text”, tells us the back cover, the “I” of the collection metamorphosing into a tree. The texts are written in prose, like a long story, one paragraph per page. The tone is in no way Kafkaesque, but in no way prevents the reference. Of course, a trend that continues, the collection does not spare us, here and there, lists. Poem 114 allows us to access the very essence of the moral implicit in this book, here it is Verbatim “You have to keep hoping that a part of yourself can be saved. » Reserved for those who shudder in front of any plant fragility: « Once my life is over, sawn into slats three-quarters of an inch thick, I don’t think I will be sold among the select wood. I will probably be placed directly on sale as soon as I arrive at the hardware store. “Strange poetic prose that serves a message.