A silent story | A unique housewife among many others

In A silent storya first novel of intelligence matched only by her sensitivity, Alexandra Boilard-Lefebvre brings photos and members of her family into the spotlight so that her grandmother Thérèse, who died tragically 55 years ago, finally appears. years. An unhappy housewife with unfortunately too banal despair.

One evening, after the end of her classes at UQAM, where she studied literature, Alexandra Boilard-Lefebvre rushed towards the Grande Bibliothèque, more precisely towards the section where tons of various archives are stored.

“I went in, a little dramatic, I went to an archivist and I said to her: ‘I’m looking for someone who died, but I don’t know anything about her.’ »

This person is Thérèse Lefebvre, née Larin, Alexandra’s paternal grandmother, who died in 1970 at the age of 27 in tragic circumstances worthy of a bad soap opera, suffocated by her vomiting in her sleep. Alexandra’s father was only 2 years old.

“It’s the classic family story that we don’t talk about. I think we all have one,” suggests the author, back at the Grande Bibliothèque, during our interview. There is indeed nothing as universal as family secrets, although not all of them are that disturbing.

“I have known for a long time that this woman existed, without having a precise memory of a moment when I learned about it,” she confides. Thérèse has always been an evanescent figure, like a ghost, who appears from time to time. Someone names her during a conversation and it creates a shock wave, because usually, no one ever names her. »

Sans issue

In A silent storyher superb first novel, Alexandra Boilard-Lefebvre sets out to make this silence speak through archival documents and the rare photos she was able to glean, all carefully described in a language that is at once everyday, precise and shimmering.

The granddaughter also spoke with those who knew Thérèse, informal conversations transcribed verbatim, in all their involuntary poetry and their revealing awkwardness. A process to which his family, including his grandfather, touchingly fragile, lent himself generously, despite the taboo which permeates a death like this.

A quest propelled by the heart, this long intimate report also outlines the great story, often neglected, of so many women locked up, literally confined, in the domestic sphere, those who suffered from what the journalist Betty Friedan called the “housewife syndrome”.

The Thérèse with the diaphanous complexion and babyish air who is on the cover ofA silent story is only 18 years old and is preparing to marry Roger, Alexandra’s grandfather, without really knowing him, in order to free herself from a stifling family situation. Transplanted to Chicoutimi because of her husband’s work, the young woman languishes and takes refuge in the harmful land of barbiturates.

A universe of unspoken words where everyone sees themselves locked into their role, including men, with no other outcome for women than divorce (and the social opprobrium that accompanies it), or the irreversible one, a one-way ticket to the big nothing.

“What I’m saying, we have the impression that it’s far away, we could imagine it in black and white,” observes the author born in 1992. I myself had the impression of digging into the past of a great-great-grandmother, but Thérèse could still be alive. » Roger, her husband, a proud octogenarian, is after all still with us.

“That’s why when we see a return to somewhat traditional values, we must not forget that there are real consequences to that, that there are lots of women who have died because they did not have access to their dreams, because they did not have a voice. »

Memory, this fiction

Driven by a fine knowledge of the narrative forces of cinema (Alexandra Boilard-Lefebvre is general director of Videographe), A silent story combines intelligence and empathy in order to talk about the history of Quebec, intergenerational traumas, as well as social classes, the obstacles which will have padlocked the development of the Lefebvre couple not being without link with their environment.

A silent story also sheds an oblique light on the functioning of human memory. As the testimonies accumulate, which often contradict each other, the portrait of Thérèse becomes clearer while becoming blurred. Strange double movement.

“Sometimes,” she continues, “my father told me stories and I took them, I respected them, but they were stories that his uncles told him, from their perspective, from their bias. These stories are presented as truths, but everyone has made their own editing choices in their anecdotes. It’s very human, but we always talk a lot about ourselves when we talk about others. »

What to remember from Thérèse? “It’s funny to say, but I don’t know if I know her any better than when I started the book,” replies Alexandra. I wanted to preserve his memory, but also respect his absence. If I had frozen her too much, I would have felt like I was contributing to her disappearance myself. »