"I like to hunt down murderers and put them away." -- Luc Vanier and the Vigilantes, by Pamela Davison
Nelly Arcan, the talented and beautiful Quebec writer who
committed suicide in September 2009 (see my Globe Books post here) has published a controversial posthumous story called Shame (La Honte).
In the story she alludes -- without naming names -- to her appearance on the hugely popular Sunday-night Quebec television show Tout le monde en parle in September 2007, when star Guy A. Lepage and his associate Dany Turcotte teased her on her décolleté.
complains on the show's blog that Arcan “demonizes him” in the story,
attributing to him nefarious intentions that had a disastrous effect on her. He claims to be deeply troubled by
Arcan’s story, since he had always enjoyed her books. Not wanting to create
a media storm around a writer who died two years ago, he just suggests we all read the story, take a look at the 2007 television interview in question, and decide for ourselves.
He adds that it is impossible to judge the extent to which Arcan’s performance on the show provoked audience reactions that may have caused her distress.
La Honte appears in Arcan’s most
recent book, Burqa de chair (Burka of Flesh) published
posthumously just yesterday by Éditions du Seuil.
The book is introduced by novelist
and essayist Nancy Huston, who told La Presse literary editor Chantal Guy that she
found Lepage's treatment of Arcan “unpardonable.”
You would never see a man sexually humiliated like that in front of millions of viewers. I'm sure he doesn’t feel guilty, but he is, whether or not he knows it, as are others incapable of recognizing this woman’s intelligence.
Viewing the video this evening, I would say Arcan looks increasingly uncomfortable as the interview proceeds.
A Nelly Arcan website has recently been unveiled.
© Linda Leith 2011
Part I is here.
Part I of this article is here.
When Raboy passed
the torch to the audience, a young woman went up to the microphone to ask
Vidal, “What is the most important thing in life for you?”
Vidal thought for a moment before saying a single word, “Anaesthetic.”
Anaesthetic there had been and anaesthetic there would be.
Who can forget Hancock's saggy, saturnine face in a bunny costume he was forced to wear while working as a toy store clerk--until he was outed by a child shrieking in a very English accent, "You're not Uncle Bunny! Uncle Bunny is good and kind!"?