The writer Jacques Poulin has gone; He died at the age of 87.
Jacques Poulin, discreet, experienced his existence sheltered from the effervescence that could have given him notoriety, preferring a peaceful daily life, with his cats. A little like his pen, moreover, which depicted the little things of life, the little music called it. His work, made up of fourteen novels, is a warm, sensitive and filled with this delicacy in the details, that only those who know how to observe the world with a benevolent acuity can tell.
His third novel, The big tidesis crowned with a literary prize from the Governor General, but it is with Volkswagen blues that he conquered his audience. With The old sorrowhe won the Quebec-Paris prize. He also wrote The fall tour, The heart of the blue whale, English is not a magic language, Jimmy, Mistassini’s blue eyes as well asA jukebox in the head. In 2008, he received the Gilles-Corbeil Prize for all of his work. He had slow and posed writing; Several years could separate one novel from the other, leaving us in expectation. In bookstores, the books of Jacques Poulin offer themselves to young and older people, people with a curious passage to know Quebec, readers who want to read sublime, to those who want to escape with beauty and who wish to be a sweet song whisper.
A precious author, therefore, who has enriched Quebec by quality as much as by the precision of his writing. His books, which cross the Gaspésie, the River, the City of Quebec, the island of Orleans and America, testify to this desire to honor the territory, to put its words there as imprints. Jacques Poulin has offered us books that persist and sneak in a library, such as pillars or monuments, which cannot be forgotten, reassuring and comforting by their simple presence. It is now up to us to make his words flower in the imagination of those who have not had the chance to read it.
