Pélagie-la-Charrette

by Maillet-A

Chassée par les Anglais en 1755, une veuve, devenue esclave en Géorgie, décide de revenir en Acadie avec ses enfants. Rejointe par d'autres exilés, son odyssée de toutes les amours, de tous les dangers, durera dix ans. De Charleston à Baltimore, en passant par les marais de Salem, Pélagie et son peuple croiseront les Iroquois, connaîtront la guerre d'Indépendance américaine, souffriront la haine des protestants de Boston et un hiver rigoureux avant de regagner leur Terre promise. On ne sait ce qu'il faut admirer le plus de cette épopée : la langue d'Antonine Maillet, ce français violent, coloré, magnifié d'Acadie, ou l'héroïsme d'une femme incarnant le courage de nos lointains cousins.

Genres: Fiction, Canada, Historical Fiction, France, Canadian Literature, Literature, Historical

316 pages, Paperback

First published August 1, 1979

Reviews

[Daniel Grenier · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Les sorcières se lamentèrent toute la nuit dans le vent des marais de Salem. Mais au petit matin, le soleil sauta à l'horizon et fit sonner le ciel comme un gong."

Une grandiose montagne russe de roman picaresque. C'est un conte, c'est une saga, c'est de la magie. Lisez simplement les quelques paragraphes de la disparition de Bélonie pour vous en convaincre. Maillet a des tours et des tours dans son sac, ça explose d'inventivité à chaque page. Ça se voit, ça s'entend, ça se ressent jusque dans les tripes.

Je me mets dans la tête des gens chez Leméac qui ont reçu cette patente-là sur leur bureau un beau matin de 1978.
-Sur quoi tu travailles, Antonine?
-Oh, un petit truc sur l'Acadie, comme d'habitude.
-OK, quand t'es prête, on a hâte de lire ça.

Ça n'arrive pas tous les jours, un truc pareil. C'était un événement et c'en est encore un aujourd'hui, alors que nos lectures et nos sensibilités ont évolué. Il y a ici une belle occasion non pas de simplement refermer un livre parce qu'il a mal vieilli, mais de reposer la question sensible de l'universel et du particulier en littérature. Je réfère à la critique d'Amélie Panneton, publiée ici, dont je partage la vision et les interrogations, au sujet de la représentation caricaturale, voire grotesque, des minorités dans le roman.

Le récit national que l'Acadie s'est créé pour survivre (et celui du Québec, ne nous le cachons pas) a toujours valeur historique, même si on est de plus en plus conscients que la souffrance des uns n'efface pas celle des autres, celle des Autochtones et des personnes racisées, qui ont souffert de la colonisation et de l'impérialisme, qu'ils s'écrivent en anglais ou en français, et dont on a eu tendance à faire un angle-mort confortable. De la même manière, Pélagie-la-charette a toujours valeur littéraire, et l'inconfort qu'il apporte de nos jours se doit d'être scruté pour les générations à venir.

[Jeffrey Poirier · Rating 4 out of 5]

Plaisant de relire cet oeuvre pour une deuxième fois, 20 ans plus tard. Difficile de bien apprécier ce livre comme un p’tit cul de 16 ans mais émouvant de le lire à 36.

[Chase Cormier · Rating 5 out of 5]

C’est basically notre Exode à nous-autres, t’as qu’à ouère !

[Louise · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pélagie-la-Charette raconte l'odyssée du peuple acadien, à la fin du 18ème siècle, et leur long voyage vers leurs terres natales d'Acadie, que les Anglais leur ont confisquée une quinzaine d'années plus tôt. J'ai découvert un pan de l'histoire du Canada et de la francophonie que je connaissais pas : l'histoire tragique de la Déportation des Acadiens aux Etats-Unis vers 1755, réduits à la misère ou à l'esclavage. Quinze ans plus tard, certains entreprendront le voyage retour, pérégrinant des années durant à travers les Etats-Unis, munis de leurs pauvres effets personnels et de leurs fantasmes de la terre promise en tête. Vieillards, nouveaux nés, familles "tricotées serrées (que j'aime cette expression Québécoise) qui se "défrichètent" pour comprendre son histoire familiale éparpillée par l'ennemi anglais... tous avancent à qui mieux-mieux, en guenilles et crevant de faim, chassant le porc épic ou mangeant des baies sauvages, emmenés par l'héroïque et romanesque Pélagie, qui semble guider tout son peuple derrière sa pauvre charrette de guingois.
J'ai adoré lire un français que je ne connaissais pas, car ce roman possède une oralité extraordinaire : on se laisse porter par la poésie de cette langue inconnue mais qu'on comprend et qu'on ressent, ce français pas français, du 18ème siècle, qui "pigouille" le cerveau et les sens. Et pas grave si on butte sur les mots, la narration d'Antonine Mallet est d'une poésie folle. C'est romanesque et truculent, à la fois tragi-comique et grandiloquant : il y a du Don Quichotte dans cette quête un peu absurde, du Rabelais (qu'Antonine Mallet connaît très bien) dans cette gouaille paysanne, et du biblique aussi : Pélagie guide son peuple comme Moïse en son temps, tend la main aux plus faibles comme le Christ des Evangiles, harangue fermement ses ouailles comme le patriarche Abraham. Elle est tout ça à la fois, elle est la Charrette (le toit), et la Résilience, l'Obstination, la Témérité et l'Amour pour les autres, et pour son peuple.
De l'humour, du pathétique, du grandiose aussi, et l'art de redonner dignité et grandeur à une nation persécutée, non mais lisez-ça !
« Un reste de peuple errait à travers plaines et vallées, grignotant les dernières racines pourries, les derniers brins de plantes surgies par hasard entre les failles des rochers. Un peuple en lambeaux, fourbu, semait sur la terre d'Amérique des enfants en bas âge et des vieillards épuisés. Et Pélagie se mit à craindre pour Grand-Pré. Si on allait perdre la meilleure graine en route, que sèmerait-on, rendu au pays? Les charrettes ne traînaient plus que des quartiers de familles, des retailles de l'ancienne Acadie. »

[Éric Bégin · Rating 4 out of 5]

En achetant ce petit classique de la littérature acadienne à la librairie Pélagie cet été, dans la ville de Shipapagan (NB), je voulais en apprendre sur l'histoire acadienne que je ne connaissais que trop peu. Je peux dire que j'ai été agréablement servi! Un roman historique riche en histoire, en folklore, en généalogie, en shiac, en expressions, en légendes et en humour. J'ai adoré la plume d'Antonine Maillet, dont j'ai été agréablement surpris d'apprendre qu'elle fût la première femme non européenne a remporter le prix Goncourt. J'ai bien aimé l'alternance entre la narration et les dialogues très familiers ("t'as qu'à ouére!, j'allions point, c'est-i chrétien ça?, v'là..!"), qui s'entremêlaient souvent comme si la narratrice commentait les nombreuses péripéries des personnages qui étaient mis en récit.
Je ne m'attendais pas à autant rire en lisant ce livre, je devais souvent me contenir dans le bus. C'était très farfelu, mais aussi très poétique et inspirant pour la résilience acadienne qui perdure encore à ce jour.
Une petite étoile en moins pour quelques longueurs, et veut veut pas, certains passages que j'avais du mal à comprendre dû à mon manque de connaissances.
Je termine en célébrant le dicton intemporel de ce livre : "Et Merde au roi d'Angleterre!"

[Chelsey-Lynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hot take : Pélagie est une wayyyy meilleur héroine de la mémoire collective acadienne qu'Évangéline, c'est deffinitivement le meilleur récit de retour et retrouvailles post-Déportation, (surement car c'est écrit par une femme pi car c'est écrit par une actual Acadienne), j'peux pas croire que j'ai jamais lu ça avant cette année; messemble j'aurais dû avoir ça à lire en cours de français au secondaire dans la Péninsule Acadienne t'sais.... anyways, j'ai beaucoup aimé!!!

[Amelia Jacobson · Rating 5 out of 5]

An educational read for class. I wish my French was better so I can really understand all the nuance.

[Kereesa · Rating 4 out of 5]

It has been 15 years since the Deportation of 1755. Pelagie, a widowed, aging woman buys herself a cart and some oxen, and with a small band of friends and family, leaves Southern British American and heads for the only true home: Acadie. Along her decade-long excursion she will find fellow travelers, long lost Acadians, a slave, and maybe even true love. Life, death, and love, all things find themselves on the cart and in the heart of Pelagie's people.

If you have no idea what the year 1755 means to you, or are confused about both the Deportation and who these Acadian people are, this book probably isn't for you. Not until you've done some research anyway. For me, while this book was technically a required reading, it hit me a bit close to home, because even though I'm not Acadian (got them Quebecker French blood in my veins apparently), that history, that Acadian presence has been something I've known about through my friends, my neighbors, and my hometown. And even though I'll never ever be apart of that culture, Pelagi felt meaningful to me as a person of French decent, as a person who practices (40% of the time anyway) French culture, and as a New Brunswickan, especially one raised in a town where French were the majority.

The disappointing aspect about my crazy love for this book is that I didn't read it in the original language. *Sigh*

Pelagie is the story about the aftermath of British Deportation of the Acadian people living in the Maritimes, as well as a story about their culture. Well along with that narrative stuff about Pelagie and her gang. And while the story primarily focuses on Pelagie and her cart, those other things about the Acadians' history and culture somehow remain tied to what's happening character-wise, plot-wise, and narrative-wise.

I guess the best way to explain this is through the most interesting aspect of the narrative style itself. So, throughout Pelagie, there's actually three different narratives going one. You have Pelagie and her gang, the decedents of those people telling the story, and you have Maillet herself scolding everyone and making it all just absolutely hilarious. And these bouts of interchanging narratives don't have breaking points or different fonts or ANYTHING to help you out. Instead like a good folk tale, everything is jumbled together until you're able to immerse yourself fully into the story, and then:

Like clockwork everything makes sense.

And it's wonderful that sense of connection to the story, that push that makes you almost part of the story, that allows you to breathe, smell and taste the cart, the road, and the dirt under your characters' feet. You feel almost Acadian, almost a part of the cart if that makes any sense.

Ha, that probably made no sense, but I think what I'm getting at is that like the intertwining narratives in this novel, the thematic purposes of it are intertwined as well in showing you (crash-course-like) the many aspects of the Acadians-historically, culturally and as a people in general. Maillet wants not only to show the world the Deportation's effects on the Acadian people, but to also show them the essential culture part of the people and how they differ, and how they matter so that they become more to us than numbers in a history book.

In terms of general reviewy stuff, Pelagie features a nicely rounded cast of hilarious, stern and vibrantly diverse characters that grow, die and come to life throughout the piece. Pelagie herself is, perhaps, one of the most compelling characters in this novel, because not only is she the main character, but she is also the strongest and most determined of them all; she keeps the cart together, even when she's dying inside, and remains the Acadians' leader through the death, the hunger, and the sickness that surround them.

The plot is very much a moving, fluid being that floats through time easily as it shows us instances and moments of the ten year journey, but at the same time leaves us without that nagging did-I-miss-anything sense when the pages move from 1774 to 1775. The narration, as previously discussed, remains the only real obstacle when reading this novel, something easily overcome once you allow yourself to get into the piece.

The language is perhaps where Maillet's narration becomes the most convoluted, though this could be a consequence of the translation, and the narration style Maillet continues to strive for. Nevertheless, it still remains folksy, and almost beautiful.

All in all, Pelagie is a novel for all people, those who know about Acadie, and those who don't (though I recommend a little research). It's is both a shared experience for those who understand, and a learning one for those who're new. The novel, however, no matter what the audience, doesn't fail to get that singular point across in showing us the undeniable, uncrushable human will.

[Joyce · Rating 1 out of 5]

I'm really disappointed. I purchased the novel in Nova Scotia this summer when we were in Grand Pre, and because it had won the Prix de Goncourt, I didn't even question whether to buy it for the library. For one, it's great to have some stories about Acadian history & culture, and last year the Writer's Craft kids had to review a novel in translation. However, the translation, now there's the problem. It's SO bad. It's a fight to get through the book, the language is oblique & dense, and the idiomatic expressions (of which there are many) just haven't been translated in a way that makes any sense. I should have read more than the back cover before I bought it! I keep thinking 'it can't be that bad', but so far it is. I don't want to recommend it to any student, and for the French teachers, I'd recommend that they read the original (which is what I hope to do some day--I'm going to give the version I have to Bernadine, if she wants it). They really need to get another translator if they want English-speaking people to know their story, and so far, from what I can tell, it's pretty worthwhile to know their story.

[Joan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a translation to English of a French novel republished by Goose Lane Press. It won the Goncourt prize in France, France's Booker, in 1979, Maillet being the first French novelist to win this award who was not from France, but from Bouctouche, NB.
It is a romp and rollick from Georgia all the way back to Acadie where the people were rudely ripped from their families, and their homes burned, fifteen years before by the GD King of England. Pelagie starts off with 6 oxen, a cart she had lived in in Georgia, her three children, and old mad, almost 100, who sees the black wagon coming to take his soul, and a female healer with a club foot. Along the route they pick up more and more of their people, more carts until one group decides to try out New Orleans and branches off. Then they rescue a Black slave from an auction with great hullaballoo, meet with natives who protect them and a new boyfriend for Pelagie, a pirate. Seventeen years later they arrive at Grand Pre to an empty land and disperse again up the coast of NB. All true history, but, oh well, maybe not the characters.

[Sophie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Même si on ne comprend pas toujours toutes les expressions acadiennes d'antan, Antonine Maillet a une superbe plume. Poésie et humour s'entremêlent et arrivent toujours à nous faire sourire. Pélagie est une véritable héroïne et une femme inspirante. Si le parcours est intéressant, j'ai fini par m'en lasser au trois quart du livre. Certaines péripéties ne semblent rien ajouter à l'histoire et au développement des personnages. J'ai eu l'impression que le parcours vers l'Acadie ne faisait que s'éterniser. Ce qui est réussit cependant, c'est que j'avais autant hâte que Pélagie de retrouver sa terre natale. Et quand on y arrive enfin, c'est beau, c'est simple, on reprend un grand souffle et la vie continue.

[Janice Kenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

This story spoke to my Acadian soul! Definitely 5 star for the story but the English translation was a bit difficult to follow. I would like to think that I’m alive today because of this generation’s perseverance and love of the land, that many made their way “back home”, after being deported by the British.

[Kathy Piselli · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a saga, hundreds of refugees from the French and Indian War bundled into ships without regard to keeping families together, not even allowed to bury their dead and "dumped off at random" at points along the Atlantic seaboard and beyond, nearly always without permission of that state or territory, without any arrangements made for their lives. Maillet begins her heroine in Georgia, a bit of coastal history I never knew, as a determined Pelagie saves up to buy a cart and ox team for 15 years and heads north, picking up other stranded Acadians along the way, following the cry "Come on back!" Maillet covers a lot of ground, indeed nearly every Acadian experience is mentioned here - there is even a character symbolizing the Africans who made the trip north to Acadia in the 18th century. Pelagie's countrymen have no country any more - there is a ship without a flag, captained by a historical figure - but though they work hard, they are desperately poor. They pull into Philadelphia as bells are ringing everywhere for the victory of the American Revolution, but the Acadians hear it as bells tolling death: "The remains of a people wandering through plain and valley nibbling the last rotting roots and shreds of plants clinging by hazard in the clefts of the rocks. A tattered, foundering people sowing the land of America with young children and exhausted elders." There are almost no records of what became of these travelers; some historians have pieced information together only by the family names they left along the way. Translator Stratford renders "Le Grand Derangement" as the Great Disruption, for its wholesale clearcutting of family trees, leaving children orphaned, family heirlooms and livelihoods lost to them. In spite of this desperation, Maillet includes, and Stratford conveys, a great spirit, humor, and preservation of culture and song here. Pelagie is astonished to marry off her daughter with an internal monologue typical of Maillet: "her eyes misted over even before they turned to rest on her daughter. Already? Why, sure, Pelagie! She was born in the hold of the Nightingale, not long into the year 1756. Twenty years, count them. At that age, Pelagie, you'd already brought all your children into the world, remember that." The original version of this book apparently includes some original French terms of 18th century Acadia; the translation includes a few choices that maybe convey that, like "to scrimshank". Pelagie at the end, learning of the fate of the hometown she has sought for all these years, puts her Grand Pre into her apron to carry with her: "into her apron pocket, she also stuffed a stock of words, ancient words sprung naked from her grandsires' gullets, words she wouldn't leave as a heritage for foreign throats; and in it, she stuffed all those legends and tales, marvelous, terrifying or prankish, that her line had been passing on since the beginning of time; and in it, she stuffed beliefs and customs hung round her neck like a family jewel, which she in turn would leave her heirs; and in it, she put the history of her people, begun two centuries before, then whirled around by the four winds and left for dead in the gutter…" A beautiful testimony to the strength of the children of the cart.

[Glen · Rating 4 out of 5]

What is a nation? This novel will have you thinking about that question as it follows the ragtag assemblage of exiles attempting to return from the 1755 Acadian diaspora, coming up from the Carolinas, Georgia, Maryland, and wherever the original European settlers of North America were forced to flee the wrath of the British Empire. To this day the Quebecois separatist movement and uneasy union of French-speaking Canadians with the rest of Canada carries echoes of this story, or ones like it. As other reviewers have noted, this reads like oral history, and the multiplication of family names and voices from different times sometimes makes for difficult reading, but there is much here to recommend the novel: a distinctive voice, a unique self-perception of a people, a good deal of humor amidst tragedy, and above all a dogged determination to reunite with a land long absent but never forgotten. I am quite sure that much gets lost in an otherwise able and brave translation, so if you can read this in the original, do so (generally good advice I'd say), but in either event, do read it.

[Spencer Folkins · Rating 4 out of 5]

The novel reads as though it's being told orally, which accounts for its seeming to ramble on and explore inconsequential tangents. As a result, readers may find some portions of the novel to be unmemorable. Also, the passage of time is difficult to track as the narration seems to jump back and forth unmarked (I argue this is intentional, in keeping with the oral-storytelling motif). The narrator's tendency to evoke legendary qualities in events seems to negate the stories historic realism at times. This novel emphasis the labour of interpretation; like their travels, the novel itself is at times hard to get through but deeply rewarding. The novel does well to depict the possibility of a journey home after many years, the creation of a family motivated by survival-oriented reliance on others, the deep-rooted disturbance festooned by exile. The final paragraph about Catoune is breathtaking.

[Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 1979, Antoinine Mailet won the French Prix Goncourt for the French version of this story. I figured I had to read it now that it was in English, given my fascination with all things Acadian. And my own ancestors. And the greater facility I have in English than in French.

What a metaphorical ride through the follow-up to the ethnic cleansing of the French Neutrals from Nova Scotia in 1755! I like the high-spirited, snarky journey back to home, though I can see how that might not set well with some folks, especially those looking from the outside in to Acadian culture.

Thoroughly enjoyed this.

[Stephen Ring · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read for my Maritime Fiction course, so in a way it was required reading. Interesting insights to the history of Acadian people and their struggles to return. Totally fictionalized account; very few Acadian travelled or attempted to travel by land for the return, most took ships

[Wendell Hennan · Rating 1 out of 5]

Rambling, too many names to ever keep straight but it hardly matters because there are few individual characters, just families and families. I really tried but about page 125 I realized I was not having fun and there were too many other books calling for me to cavort and carouse with them.

[Jacob Aubut · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really struggled in the beginning with understanding what was happening. I think that is because of the translation in combination with the narrative style. I did love the power of this story though.

[Karine Desruisseaux · Rating 4 out of 5]

Il faut un peu s’habituer au language acadien si on n’est pas familier, mais une fois que c’est fait, on embarque avec plaisir dans l’aventure d’un peuple, dont l’histoire est trop peu souvent racontée.

[Coady Nickerson · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Odyssey of Acadians returning home.

[Abby · Rating 4 out of 5]

I agree with other reviewers that Maillet’s work deserves a better translation, but this novel should be considered a classic of North American literature,

[Barb · Rating 5 out of 5]

Being back on PEI where there are many proud Acadians who are friends and having seen the dikes etc. they built before being exiled this was the perfect book to welcome me back!

[Louise · Rating 3 out of 5]

Tres intéressant

[Marc · Rating 1 out of 5]

Bon. J’ai écouté la moitié du livre sur OhDio, mais je n’ai pu me résoudre à le terminer…encore une fois. Il porte une rengaine qui a définitivement éteint ma motivation à lire cette œuvre primée.

[Mathieu Dionne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Apparence que dumeshui je suis un grand fan du peuple acadien. Ça se pourrait-i que ma grand-mère Landry du bas du fleuve en soit du pays?

[Julie Baldwin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Très heureuse d’avoir lu cette autrice grande dame.

[Clément · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exceptionnel. Une retransciption écrite des légendes orales de l’Acadie, un tour de force, justement récompensé par le Goncourt.

[Alyson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Prior to 1755, the Maritimes were once known as La Nouvelle France (New France) or Acadie. The numerous French immigrants who migrated from France to the three Maritime provinces are known as Acadians. After over one hundred years of their colonization of Acadie, beginning in 1755, the English colonists decided to deport the Acadians. Some Acadians were able to escape deportation and hid until the deportation was over. Some were not so lucky. Some of the Acadians were sent back to France, and others were deposited here and there along the eastern coast of the United States. Those who ended up in Louisiana began to call themselves Cajuns.
Pélagie: The Return to Acadie is the story of a group of resilient Acadians who were deported to the United States who seek to return home. The story is narrated in a tone which is designed to invoke and mimic oral narration. The style of narration is absolutely crucial to the storyline as it demonstrates the richness of Acadian storytelling. Antonine Maillet, the author of Pélagie: The Return to Acadie , has greatly studied oral storytelling. Maillet also has a PhD in literature and taught folklore at numerous universities in Canada and the United States. This knowledge of storytelling allows for a seamless blending of an oral tradition within a written text.
As the story is told in an oral format, the narrators are essential pieces to the story as are the main characters. The narrators are the descendants of the characters of the story. It becomes evident throughout the story that there are alterations and changes to the storyline as it is adapted and retold throughout the generations. One of the flexibilities which an oral tradition provides is its ability to adapt and change throughout the years. When a story has been retold time and time again, it takes on the status of legend. Pélagie: The Return to Acadie exhibits the same traits. Although the story is grounded in a historical narrative, there are mythic storylines and characters which changes this story from history to legend.
I have to admit, when I first read the first two pages, I was confused. I was extremely unfamiliar with the structure, and I ended up getting the characters confused. Unfortunately, the narrators have the same or similar names to the characters in the story. I can imagine that there would be people who would pick up this novel out of curiosity only to put it down again due to being extremely confused at the start of this novel. As for me, I didn’t have that option. In order to write essays and get decent marks, I had to keep reading. After I got past the first few pages I began to appreciate the layering structure.
Pélagie the grouch and Louis-a-Bélonie are the narrators of the story. Their ancestors are Pélagie Leblanc, called the cart, as well as the original Bélonie Maillet sometimes called the old chinwagger. Genealogy is important in the novel as it is important for many Acadians. Very often, Acadians will introduce themselves by introducing their family line as an extension to their first names.
For those who can read in French without difficulty, I would greatly recommend reading this novel in its original French language rather than its translated English version. The novel contains many colloquialisms which are translated awkwardly into English. Even though I could have read the original French version (and I did attempt it), I found the French version difficult to read as it is written in an older Acadian dialect. If I would have taken my time, I probably would have understood the story, however, I was pressed for time and had to content myself with reading the English translation.
Once you get past the colloquialisms unique to Acadian culture, underneath is an engaging story that anyone can connect with. Acadian culture is extremely vibrant and lively just as the narrative voices of this book as they excitedly tell you of the adventures of Pélagie’s cart. Pélagie: The Return to Acadie follows a similar storyline to the biblical story of Exodus. Pélagie represents a maternal matriarch figure who leads her people back to the promise land of Acadie. Meanwhile, the story weaves in mythical structures and characters such as a romantic captain who swoops in just in time to save the day, a midwife healer who can save someone from the brink of death, a giant with an enormous amount of strength, and an old storyteller who is continuously pursued by an ominous death cart.

[Totochelamouche · Rating 3 out of 5]

-Fallit point faire ça, Charles à Charles, fallit point vous laisser aller. J'aurions pu sougner vos jambes, et vous règler les boyaux à l'harbe-à-dindon, j'aurions pu.

Pélagie reconnut là les entrailles de Célina qui cherchait à prendre en défaut celles des autres.

C'est le Basque qui avait raison: vous couperez point le souffle à cestuy-là qui garde son souffle en-dedans.

Et Pélagie qui gardait depuis quasiment deux ans les rênes de sa charrette entortillées sur ses poings fermés, ouvrit toutes grandes ses paumes à la rosée du petit jour.

...Bien heureux qui peut mourir une fois pour toutes!

Il avait pris garde Beausoleil, de ne pas s'engager à sauver l'équipage. Une parole est une parole; et son peuple avait déjà payé assez cher une parole donnée au roi d'Angleterre qui, sur une clause controversée d'un serment d'allégeance, l'expédiait à la mer sans plus de cérémonie.

Et sans les prouesses intempestives de l'abbé LeLoutre, l'ours aurait pu dormir encore longtemps, aussi bien à Londres qu'à Chibouctou qu'on commençait petit à petit à nommer Halifax.

Car à l'époque, on parlait encore d'Acadie française ou Acadie libre, sise au nord de Beauséjour et par conséquent face à cette Acadie déjà tombée et appelée Nova Scotia.

Une patrie que la Dispersion était en train d'agrandir de toutes les îles et toutes les anses capables de cacher un peuple disloqué. Car la Grand'Goule s'était mise à débarquer des Arsenault et des Haché dit Gallant à l'Île Saint-Jean; et des Vigneault aux Îles de la Madeleine; et des Chiasson à l'Île Royale dit Cap Breton [...]

J'en ferons un ragoût de pattes de cochon, que s'esclaffa un Basque en se tapant sur les cuisses.

Hé oui, que me confia Louis-le-Jeune, mon cousin, se chausser du pied gauche pour se garder du mal de dent.

On la retrouva quelques heures plus tard en train de se réanimer les joues au jus de bettes.

Une couleuvre, c'est une créature du bon Dieu, comme les autres, faut bien que ça serve à quelque chose. Ça servirait à huiler les essieux des charrettes.

Si l'Acadie n'avait pas péri corps et biens dans le Grand Dérangement, c'était grâce aux femmes.

On manquait de tout, et tout s'en allait à l'épouvante: les paillasses rendaient leur paille à grands trous; les boeufs semaient entre les cailloux leurs fers usés et cobis; les gencives rongées par le scorbut saignaient et Célina, secondée par son Fou fidèle, n'arrivait pas à stopper les hémorragies.

Elle n'avait pas mérité un seul jour de vie, de vie pour elle, Pélagie, après une existence entière au salut des autres?

C'est pour dire que personne ne comprenait très bien le chavirement des charrettes en ce printemps 1774, trop envahi chacun par sa propre métamorphose ou trop occupé à retenir son coeur en dedans. La Marilande était leur premier relais franchement hospitalier en quatre ans, et les déportés en prirent une longue respiration de réserve.

Et elle défricheta pour les Bourgeois, Giroué, Allain et autres récriminants, les broussailles de la Marilande qui tenait son nom de la lande - tout comme si l'on vous disait en français le pays - de la Vierge Marie.

Car en bon conteur de sa profession, il se réservait pour ses contes, Bélonie, et ne gaspillait jamais sa salive dans des obstinations perdues.

Les jeunes gens, c'était les trois fils de Pélagie et sa fille Madeleine qui rangeait déjà les affaires de Célina avec les hardes, les victuailles et les paillasses, tout ce qui restait de biens aux LeBlanc, après quinze ans de Géorgie. On avait tout vendu: linges de toile et coupes d'étain réchappés du Dérangement, meubles, volailles, moutons, même un abri de planches qui avait soulagé leur exil et empêché la famille de partir à la dérive comme tant d'autres.
- Pas moi! qu'avait crié Pélagie en voyant tomber les déportés comme des mouches tout le long des côtes géorgiennes. Je planterai aucun des miens en terre étrangère.