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A priest's diary

Modifié le : 2019/08/04

I’ve had his lit­tle book on my tablets for years. It had been passed to me by my uncle Serge Giguère so that I could take a look at it. It is a diary of the late Ray­mond Roy, a work­er priest, his work pub­lished in semi-pri­vate, with the means at hand, by Les Édi­tions de l’Autrement (it still exists?), in 1996.

It was by sort­ing through the few books I still have left that I came across the book­let which is part of a larg­er whole.

I believe that the priest in ques­tion had had a tor­ment­ed life, fight­ing against some eth­yl demons. Any­way, I reread some pas­sages. The writ­ings date back to 1995, in the mid­dle of the ref­er­en­dum cam­paign. If some pages can be ignored, some oth­ers are beau­ti­ful­ly hemmed (from an encounter with for­mer con­fr­eres ordained at the same time as him : Seven of my con­fr­eres are “extin­guished,” as pet­ri­fied, show­ing no bleed­ing wounds, mute, for­bid­den for the future, and inca­pable of guilt. And fur­ther on, con­cern­ing a bap­tism cer­e­mo­ny held at the same time as the famous wom­en’s march in Que­bec City in 1995 : The “big bap­tism” I was cel­e­brat­ing in the morn­ing seemed to be a con­tra­dic­tion to this slo­gan “Bread and ros­es.” A hun­dred guests, under the con­trol of a vis­i­bly matri­ar­chal will, parad­ed through all the “gad­gets,” bal­loons, videos, recep­tions, and dress­es ordered by over­con­sump­tion.)

I won­der what hap­pened to these texts. Are they part of the now dried-up rivers of mean­ing that will have carved the cliff of our col­lec­tive uncon­scious ? It puts my own writ­ings into per­spec­tive. We are so few things ; we are our life, we are our future in per­pet­u­al precariousness.

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