A candid look at a career as a writer

A candid look at a career as a writer

MISE & Agrave; DAY

At 88 years old, Gilles Archambault takes a frank, authentic and sincere look at his writing career in his new collection of stories, It's getting late . With a meticulous, thrifty, but very efficient pen, he evokes his beginnings, his models, his fellow travelers, and speaks in filigree of his life as a father, as a lover, as a man.

His texts are overwhelming, tinged with nostalgia. “It's a book that depends, like my last books, on the fact that I'm no longer young. I'm 88, you know. What do I think of life? It’s a wonderful thing, it’s obvious. But since it has to end, and since I don't believe in a life other than earthly life, well, there is always an anxiety that goes with the fact of growing old & nbsp; ”, comments the writer, in an interview./p>

Culture to ward off anxiety

That said, he tries, in his books and in life in general, not to be pessimistic. “& Nbsp; It doesn't work. At the end of a life, I can't complain about anything. I often come back to this thing: born in a working-class environment, where there were no books, I succeeded as a result of decisions that I made, and also because of the hazards of life, to discover what is called culture. And that's what kept me awake, which served me throughout my life […] as a screen against too strong an anxiety. & Nbsp; “

” & nbsp; He Just a few years ago, I was still saying that I really enjoyed living and wished I had three lives – stuff like that. And I was sincere when I said that. But that's not my current attitude. I don't want to die, but I don't want to go on living in pain. This is where I am now. & Nbsp; “

He expresses his gratitude for life. “It could have gone a lot less well. I say thank you. And I'm waiting. & Nbsp; “

He writes in It's getting late to have sorted through his CDs, his books, his photos. And that he finds it difficult to hook them up to something that will be of interest. He gives an example. “I had to do this. Three or four years ago I was looking at my nightclub where there were 6000 CDs. I don’t do jazz shows anymore: it was useless, really. Rather, this monstrous nightclub was a reminder of something that no longer existed. 'he wrote It's getting late , he also destroyed everything he had for records about his books. “I've been keeping all of this since 1963. I said to myself: this is no use and it will annoy my children.” I wanted to make a clean house. & Nbsp; “

Gilles Archambault takes stock of his long and fruitful career as a writer. & Nbsp;

“& nbsp; I think I was what we call an honest writer, who did everything to give what he could give better. But it is clear that I am not a writer who has a destiny like that of Gaston Miron or Michel Tremblay. I am a true writer, but in a very particular, intimate field which is mine. & Nbsp; “& nbsp;

EXTRACT

& nbsp; At the moment of my death, I wish to be alone. So much the better if I am in a deckchair, facing the sea. We imagine that good Aschenbach sees his life in an instant, that he thinks of the beauty that he has imperfectly evoked in his works. I, who would be at best an honest craftsman of words, I would like when I enter nothingness to see in a flash the gestures of a woman, yours, Lise, and to hear the voices of children. It would be an almost fitting death for me. But I would be alone. Don't give me a show. & Nbsp; “

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