"Ma bouche sera la bouche des malheurs qui n'ont point de bouche, ma voix, la liberté de celles qui s'affaissent au cachot du désespoir."
When I first read Cahier d'un retour au pays natal in Montpellier, France, I knew. This literature stuff really COULD move mountains, change the order of things, express what you can't express on a day-to-day basis. It could be put to good use, serving as a witness to events and experiences that otherwise go unheard.
Last night, I went to my first (of many I hope!) theater performance in Geneva, an adaptation of Cahier performed by the director of my theater workshop.... and it was a return to my initial love story with Francophone literature. I remembered why I do what I do, why I love listening to the French language, reading it and sharing it with others. It was my first night out on the town since my quarantine phase... and it was great to bring together a crew of people I adore in Geneva. On a fait trois soirées en une!, as my friend Bérengère put it (We had three parties in one!). Theater, followed by a drink at a bar, followed by the American Party. And then... we could have made it four with the Usine folks near Plainpalais, but it wasn't much of a party, so we continued along on our journey home. I must say, whizzing around Geneva at night, with all of its twinkling lights, that is pretty magical. :)