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"The Good Old Days" 1981
- University of Ottawa Press
- Chapter
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Andre Major Translated by David Lobdell THE GOOD OLD DAYS Andre Major was born in Montreal on April 22, 1942, and left school at the age of eighteen to pursue a career in journalism and literature. He wrote for the weeklyPetitjournal, became a frequent contributor to Liberte, and in 1963, with Hubert Aquin and others, he began publishing the magazine Parti pris. From 1967 to 1970 he wrote for Le Devoir, and from 1972 to 1979 for La Presse, and was also active in the founding of the publishing house La Cooperative d'editions les Quinze. He is currently a reader of manuscripts for Editions du Jour, and since 1973 has worked as acultural programmer for Radio-Canada. Major's first novel, Le Cabochon, was published in Paris in 1964, and this was followed the next year by La Chair depoule, a book of stories published by Partipris. His study of the influential novelist Felix-Antoine Savard, author ofMenaud, maitre draveur, was published in 1968. The followingyear, while living in Toulouse, France, Major began writing a trilogy of novels set in the Laurentians and Montreal: UEpouvantail (1974; The Scarecrows of St. Emmanuel, 1977),L'Epidemie (1975;Inspector Therrien, 1980), and Les Rescape'es (1976), for which he won the Governor-General's Award for Fiction in 1977. A second book of short stories, La Folle d'Elvis was published in 1982 and translated by David Lobdell as Hooked on Elvis in 1983, and it is from this book that "The Good Old Days" has been taken. In reviewing the book, Joyce Marshall noted that it contained "wry stories about possible encounters that fail to take place, or when they do takeplace are merely tentative or disillusioning." Though perhaps less overtly political than many of Major's other works, "The Good Old Days" is definitely a story about disillusionment —a theme that runs through all of Major's writing. 326 ANDRE MAJOR "The Good Old Days" is reproducedfrom Hooked onElvis (Montreal: Quadrant Editions, 1983) and was originally published under the tide "Le bon vieux temps" in La Folk d'Elvis: nouvelles (Montreal: Quebec-Amerique, 1982). THE GOOD OLD DAYS 327 [54.235.6.60] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 06:08 GMT) I s he'd ended up accepting; she still wondered why. Simply to avoid having a guilty conscience? For months he'd been going on about Bernard, the good old days with his friend Bernard, all the things they'd done together, the sleepless nights spent smoking in front of an open fire. Jean-Louis's eyes glowed whenever he spoke of these things, recalling new details each time that caused him to marvel. It was a Friday evening. The forecast was for a sweltering weekend. "We could go out there, if you're so set on it." "To Bernard's, youmean?" "What do you think I'm talking about?" "Oh, just you wait!You're in for a treat!" Exultant, he rushed to the phone to announce their visit, not forgetting to ask Bernard how to get to his place. "You understand, my friend, it's been such a long time .. ." She had stopped listening, preferring instead to soak in the tub. And now they were moving up the narrow, winding road, whose dirt surface was bleached white by the summer sun. The foliage had lost its lustre beneath the fine coating of dust raised by passing vehicles. The road kept climbing, with sudden abrupt curves; it hadn't been used much lately. Already, she was beginning to regret having suggested this excursion to such an out-of-the-way place. The landscape made her feel lightheaded. It was as if, deprived of all familiar points of reference, she could find nothing to cling to. But that was something Jean-Louis would never have understood , he was so excited by the view of the moutains and all the youthful memories they evoked. "It should be around here somewhere." "Keep your eyes on the road," she replied curtly. She was the navigator, sitting beside him with the list of scribbled directions in her lap. He was so afraid of missing the place. Really, it was absurd! But she said nothing. 328 ANDRE MAJOR s s For the past few weeks, they'd been at each other's throats almost constantly, and usually over the most trifling matters. The last time was still fresh in her mind. The previous evening, following his conversation with Bernard, he had begun to boast...