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The Simplicity of Life
by Christian-Eric Falardeau
235 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-0977; ISBN 1-55395-263-4; US$21.50, C$25.95, EUR16.90, £12.50
The Simplicity of Life is a novel in four parts exploring openness, its consequences and its advantages.
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About the Book
The Simplicity of Life is a novel in four parts exploring openness, its consequences and its advantages. The first three parts take place in a fabricated world that shares many traits with our own pre-industrial agricultural society. The last part is contemporary.
'A SIMPLE VILLAGE' presents a society where everyone has been taught to say what they think frankly and quickly defuse any conflict.
'A WORM IN THE APPLE' is about a man slowly taking advantage of the above societal situation, twenty years later, and how the aberration spreads, starting with those closest to him.
'THE MIRROR' follows a scenario much like 'A Simple Village' but, this time it is thirty years later than 'A Worm in the Apple', and we see the consequences of the social changes that began therein.
'MAN'S ONLY FRIEND' is about an honest man, such as might be raised in 'A Simple Village', dropped into contemporary society. We see his interactions with neighbors, friends, colleagues, and his dog--the only truly honest presence in his life.
About the Author
Christian-Eric Falardeau was born in 1968, on a little farm near the village of Beaudry, now part of Rouyn-Noranda, in Abitibi-Temiscamingue (north-west of Quebec). He was raised amidst cows and some of them might have influenced several of his characters. He also has two brothers and three sisters.
In 1990, he graduated from Sherbrooke University with a degree in computer science, embarked on a career as a programmer analyst and, later on, became a software development manager. He retired from the industry in March 2002.
He wrote his first novel in 1993 (Saint-Jolivet of Pendleton) quickly followed by a second one (Paul III of Montreal) before slowing down to accommodate the demands of a busy profession. Writing on and off over the next few years, he came back to literature on a more serious level in 2001 with the completion of his third novel (Caroline) and various short stories.
Now a full-time writer, many new novels and short stories can be expected in the coming months and years.
See also:
The Alas League (English)
Caroline (English)
Caroline (French)
Le faux écrivain (French)
Paul III de Montréal (French)
Paul III of Montréal (English)
Saint-Jolivet de Pendleton (French)
Saint-Jolivet of Pendleton (English)
La Ligue des Helas (French)
La simplicité de la vie (French)
The Universe and Other Stories (English)
Excerpt
1
"When I plant my spade, it not only pleases me, but I think that with each blow, with each effort, a mouth will be fed. And when I'm through counting over the whole village, I go on to allow new babies to be born."
- Gregory
Gregory was in his fields as usual on a summer day. The main harvest had not yet begun, but there were several minor crops that required constant maintenance, and some of these were ready for partial picking. He did a little everyday. He was using his favorite spade, one that looked as old as the world, for precision work. He loved this direct contact with the earth and its fruits, felt an almost sensual bond with his bountiful friend.
He had already inspected his grain. It contributed to feeding the entire village, and sometimes, when the crop was abundant, the nearby communities if they were in difficulty. This year he was somewhat concerned, because, like last year, the beautiful flora decorating his fields had not yet reached the expected height for this point in the season.
The village had some reserves, but if the phenomenon were to repeat itself again this year, they would perhaps have to employ draconian measures. He would dutifully discuss his fears at the next council meeting. The latter, after deliberation and a decision by its leader, would find the right path to follow.
His thoughts moved away from that topic as he continued the satisfying work of unearthing the first vegetables of his garden: good, large, round radishes. They were intended mainly for his personal use because his little family liked them so much. He gave and exchanged some with a few neighbors who shared the same inclination, but he did not cultivate enough for everybody.
Digging out a particularly attractive specimen, he was delighted in advance for the joy it would bring to his wife. His mood darkened for a few moments. He didn't know if it was his imagination or if he had unconsciously detected some signs--visible solely to the eyes of a life partner of two decades--but a question had suddenly come to him; was his wife still happy with him?
Twice already, the idea had irrupted in his mind and this most recent occurrence completely drew his attention. At the first signs he had not reacted, but he could no longer ignore the message. He was hoping he was mistaken and that it was just a problem with him.
Had he developed habits that weighed on his wife? Perhaps he didn't show her enough affection? He promised himself he would discuss it with her this very evening in order to be reassured or find out what he had to change--or improve--so they could both have their old joy back. They had been in such true accord all their lives, but people changed and evolved, and sometimes became less compatible, if not outright antagonistic.
Since he could do nothing about it there and then--and since he would know everything that night--Gregory was able to smile again. So, after having uncovered some additional plants, he dug his spade firmly into the ground and used it as a support. A small break for some water, from a bottle ever present at his side, would do him some good.
As he paused, he spotted his neighbor Clifford coming towards him. He was undoubtedly going to the village and must have decided to pass through the fields rather than use the road. He was not really saving any time or distance but, like Gregory, he preferred the landscape of the rising crop to that of the sterile path the horses and wagons used.
"Hey, farmer Clifford, are you trespassing on my fields?"
"I wanted to ask for your permission, but my voice doesn't carry that far!"
"Perhaps I should move my garden closer to your house!" laughed Gregory.
"Yes, that would be most convenient! I wouldn't have to walk so far just to speak with you."
"You were coming to see me? I thought you were going to the village."
"I am, but it seemed to me that we hadn't had a chance to chat for a long time. So I said to myself: pass through his fields, if he's there, good, if not, too bad! In any case, you know that I'm responsible for making the rounds of the crops and drawing up a complete assessment for the next council meeting. So I'm killing two birds with one stone."
"Splendid idea, my good man. Well now, what do you make of it? My grain is not even as high as it was last year at this time."
"Tell me about it! My cows are so thin I can almost see through them. And I'm afraid it isn't going to get better before the end of the year."
"Two years in a row. It may be too soon to panic, but I have a feeling that we'll have to ask people to avoid having children for a year or two."
"I fear that may be true. It would be a pity. There were many marriages this spring. We've already asked them to be careful until we know if the harvest will be good or not. The beginning of my circuit isn't very encouraging."
"I remember a situation like this very well. I married Agnes during the great drought and we had to wait five years for our first child."
"I remember that. I was luckier. I had my daughter the first year. By the way, I think she finds your Michael quite to her taste. She's still a little young, but you never know!"
"You never know. Michael doesn't seem in a hurry. He must be starting to look at girls, but I think his younger brother is more passionate!"
"Perhaps, is he more interested in boys?"
"Maybe. I haven't spoken to him about it yet, but now that you mention it, it might be time for me to have a new conversation with him. The last one was a good two years ago. He might know more about himself by now."
"You should. It's important to keep the channels of communication open. Sometimes young people have thoughts they don't understand and they hesitate to open up."
"Yes, that's all true enough. Just lately I'm more worried about my wife."
"Yes? Something serious?"
"I don't know yet. I've just been trying to figure it out. It's as if she's less happy. In any case, I'll talk to her this evening. I'll see to Michael tomorrow."
"Yes, speak to her as soon as possible One should never let these things wait. Take my wife and I, for example. We had problems a few years ago. It could have degenerated. We waited too long before initiating the dialogue. Fortunately, everything fell back into place, but we needed three months in separate bedrooms all the same."
"Oh yes, I remember that. It was quite a difficult time. Sometimes there is nothing better than taking a step back though."
"My opinion exactly. Now, just for a change of subject; I went to see my Aunt Beatrice last weekÉ"
"The one now living in Springfield?"
"That's the one. Things aren't going very well over there. The drought is even worse than here. I think they're going to need some assistance."
"Is that right? We'll see in due time. They'll have to start thinking about the future. Their lands are not very good. Maybe they should exploit some other resources? We'll just have to see. It looks like our provisions are likely to be quite small this year, but if we can help we should; we'll just have to tighten our belts a little more."
"Yep, that's how it goes. They do need to think of something, or maybe move their village. The regional council is supposed to meet next month. That would be the right time to tackle the subject."
"Yes. I'll mention it to Charles before he goes there."
"Speaking of Charles. What do you think of his mistake with the town hall? Do you think we should talk to him and maybe start looking for a new leader?"
"We won't have much choice but to talk about it. He feels guilty and will certainly propose a discussion very soon, but to go from there to replacing him... I'm not so sure," concluded Gregory after a few seconds of reflection.
"We'll go deeper into it at the meeting. I brought it up simply because your name is often bandied about as the next village head."
"Oh no! That's a lot of work and responsibility."
"Yes, I understand. It's always a bit annoying to have your own farm taken care of by other people when time runs short. Nevertheless, for the good of the community..."
"There's still some time to deal with this, and I'm not in any hurry."
"As you said, we'll see. Well, I must take my leave of you. I still have a lot of things to do today."
"If you run into Albert, could you remind him that I'll be waiting for him tonight?"
"Albert? Do you have problems and need help from the city bank?"
"No, no. Nothing so dramatic. Simply an idea I had. I'll talk to you about it some other time."
"I'll pass the message on then. Bye now!"
"Bye!"
And Gregory returned to his spade. He had a few more hours work ahead of him. Now that all his business was well organized in his head, he went back to work thinking of nothing more than the pleasure of laboring in his fields.2
"I love my husband; we built everything together. I have two beautiful children. However, there are days when I can feel the fire in my veins."
- Agnes
Agnes left the barn by the door leading directly to the house. She tried to maintain an upright and dignified posture, but she only managed it for a few steps. One hand on her belly, she wavered and had to lean on the wheel of a nearby abandoned old cart for support. All her senses were razor-sharp. It had been years since she had felt this excited. As she leaned on the wagon, she began to regain control of herself.
She was hoping that Philip had left the premises, as he had promised, and that he would not pursue her while she was so vulnerable. Part of her wanted the exact opposite, of course. Nevertheless, Philip was a gentleman and he would never take advantage of her weakened state. A new wave of desire made her bend her knees slightly. She took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, as if she were coming down to earth like an autumn leaf.
It was now over. Agnes was breathing freely and her thoughts became clear again as she renewed contact with reality. For a while now, she had been reading more than friendship in Philip's eyes and finding that she was not immune to it. Her first assumption had been that it was just a small and inconsequential flirting interlude.
This morning however, he had come into the barn, looking for Gregory. They had exchanged some banal words, which had turned out to be more revealing than a balcony serenade. Their vague feelings had gradually taken fire and they had fallen into each other's arms, kissing passionately. Suddenly ablaze, they had sought each other's bodies, completely detached from this world. Philip was the first to recover his wits and had broken off their embrace.
Agnes, initially confused, also regained control, and forehead to forehead, they had remained silent for several minutes, savoring the moment that would perhaps never be renewed. Philip had spoken first. He'd told her that he was very attracted to her. He had believed it to be just a small thing, but he was realizing now that it was much more than that. He had apologized for his incipient passion bursting out in such a manner, without warning.
Agnes had acknowledged that she had just gone through the same thing. However, she was married and it would not be fair to Gregory to go any further without first talking to him. Philip agreed. He was a friend and he would feel better if the situation was clear for everyone. She told him that she had to think things over. After all, even though they now knew that a strong attraction existed between them, was it sufficient? He felt the same way. It was necessary to let some time pass, to confirm the validity of their feelings or dismiss them. After another kiss--more controlled--they separated for good and left each other to go their separate ways.
Agnes, confused, sad, happy and decided, resumed her way towards the small house where she had been living with Gregory for a little over twenty years. She didn't know yet how she would tackle the subject or what she would say--still being unsure of her feelings--but she had to talk to him this very evening. She would find the words and Gregory would certainly help her. With this thought, her heart became lighter.
Between her and her husband, although they were no longer in the first blush of their original passion, there existed a great friendship, and she loved him very much. She now had to decide what was most important to her. On top of that, there were the children. They must not be forgotten. Of course, they would understand, but Gregory and she had to make sure that, in the advent of a separation, they had the opportunity to express their feelings, and that the arrangements between her and her husband would satisfy their needs as much as possible. Philip came back to her mind and a new surge of heat traversed her body. It was now more like a soft wave of anticipation--easily controlled--giving her new resolve.
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