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Today, old and bedbound, she finds herself alone. She knows we are always alone at the end of life, even when relatives are holding our hand, even wh… - Évelyne Trouillot
" "Today, old and bedbound, she finds herself alone. She knows we are always alone at the end of life, even when relatives are holding our hand, even when those who love us are shedding genuine tears. We must confront death all alone. There's no longer any way to hide behind plans, intentions, or dreams. It's necessary to look at the life behind us and say good-bye to it. We can pretend otherwise, but what good would it do? Along the way, illusions and self-deception help us to continue, but at the end of the road, they become useless masks that we must discard, for whether we like it or not, the flesh is laid bare and revealed for what it is. (chapter 1 p31)
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About Évelyne Trouillot
Évelyne Trouillot (born January 2, 1954) is an author and professor who lives in Haiti. She writes in French and Creole.
Also Known As
Alternative Names:
Evelyne Trouillot Ménard
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Additional quotes by Évelyne Trouillot
"when a house falls down, you don't accuse the window of not closing properly!"..."Never explain to a man being whipped how to avoid blows. Every one learns to protect the body part most sensitive to him, his most vital part. You'll see all sorts of ruses that we slaves invent to try to survive this horror. Some will seem ridiculous, others barbaric, but who can really judge? A human being will do whatever he needs to do to make sure the breath that fills his voice belongs to him. It's his right." (p42-3)
I detest death. It's been around us all my life, invading our slightest movements. Unknown dead people dominated my childhood and adolescence. All those anonymous fatalities I mourned. Family members with frozen expressions in yellowed family photos. I abhor the atmosphere in which you raised me-oozing with fear and regret, anger and powerlessness, with unfinished farewells forever dangling. An atmosphere devouring every intention I had of living happily. Swallowing up all my possibilities of pleasure and joy.
I detest this dour gravity I inherited from you.
I weave through the maze of paths between the shacks, taking care to go the back way, avoiding the one window through which I can glimpse the dark, damp rooms inside the house. My blue serge skirt swirls around my legs, and I hold it up with one hand to keep it out of the puddles from yesterday's rain. I run, ignoring the occasional scolding looks and grumblings that follow me, responding to well-meaning advice with a flick of my hand. (first lines)
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