Next Thursday, it will be 83 years since the great Virginia Woolf took her own life by slipping into the River Ouse, near Monk’s House, her country home in Rodmell, England. She was 59 years old. To commemorate her death and the immense literary legacy she leaves us, the Montreal bookstore Un livre à soi — which clearly has a bias towards Woolf — organized a few days ago a fascinating discussion moderated by Julie Laferrière (with Blanche Baillargeon, Antoine Marquet and Juliette Petillot) around the work of the writer, still so current. More precisely aroundA room of one’s ownhis most famous book with Mrs Dalloway And Orlandowhich is at the same time an essay, an autobiographical story, a utopian fiction and an ideological manifesto.
Of course, there has been a lot of talk about the multiple interpretations of the title. First of all, if only in the first degree, there is this “room of one’s own” in the sense of a concrete place to write when you are a writer. Above all, as far away from the stove as possible… From a more metaphorical point of view, “a room of one’s own” perhaps also refers to the legitimacy of women being able to also enjoy professional recognition, in the same way as men, and, of course, to obtain financial autonomy. Among other things, for the freedom of being able to set sail whenever they want. “ [J]”I would say, to use a cosmetic cliché, that his essay has not aged a bit”, declares the no less distracting and caustic Marie Darrieussecq in the preface to a recent edition of the literary bombshell of 1929 published under the modified title of ‘A place of your own.
The test certainly didn’t show any wrinkles. The concept ofA room of one’s own neither. But slaps, yes. Less than ten days ago, in our country, the political news was not exempt… In an arid social context, steeped in injustice, marked by an increase in violence against women, the existence of A “room of one’s own” even takes on a completely different meaning in my eyes which has nothing to do with literature. I would argue that, on dry land and very real, it has never been so urgent and essential as a mode of protection. A question of life or death itself. When these “rooms” as places of accommodation intended for women victims of violence run out, worse, when, after the wake of important resolutions on the subject in 2021, the promise of their creation will be forced to remain in limbo, as that decreed on March 14 by the privileged Minister of Housing France-Élaine Duranceau, from the top of her Petit Trianon, there is reason to revolt. Especially since Quebec has already had four feminicides since the start of the year.
This government twist also raises the question of the relevance of the role of our elected officials in times of crisis. To what extent can some of these millionaires who are completely out of step with reality be useful and adequate, some having never had to struggle, draped as they have been for a long time in financial ease which keeps them safe from several forms of aggression or exploitation? The recent example of Minister Duranceau’s statement, who did not understand why tenants were rebelling against an article of Bill 31 giving all the powers to owners to refuse a lease transfer and were not investing in real estate, already testified to this. With such comments, we cannot be aware of the demands of the times for our citizens. Obviously, that was just the tip of his attitude iceberg.
There was a time when the writer Yann Martel sent books to Stephen Harper when he was prime minister of the country. I have the crazy desire to imitate her with Minister Duranceau. Apart A room of one’s own by Virginia Woolf, there could be A thousand little nothings by Jodi Picoult, The heatwave of the poor by Jean-Simon Desrochers, The joke of the century by Jean-Christophe Réhel, Penances by Alex Viens, a biography on Marie-Antoinette… Other ideas?