The Quebec Anthology: 1830-1990

"Mother Soubert's Pig" 1944

Yves Theriault Translated by Wayne Grady MOTHER SOUBERT'S PIG Born in Quebec City on November 28, 1915, of Montagnais descent, YvesTheriault studied at the Ecole Notre-Damede -Grace in Montreal, but at the age of seventeen decided to travel throughout the entire province of Quebec rather than pursue his studies. Subsequently, he worked as a trapper , a cheese merchant, a truck driver, a night-club impresario , a tractor salesman, and a Radio-Canada announcer before turning to writing. He became a scriptwriter for the National Film Board in Ottawa in 1943; the followingyear his first book of short stories, Contespour un homme seul, was published in Montreal. From then on, Theriault was one of the most prolific writers of his generation. Among his twenty-five novels, Aaron (1954) won the Prix de la province de Quebec; Agaguk was awarded the Prix France-Canada; and Ashini won the Governor-General's Award for literature. Theriault was awarded the Molson Prize for lifetime achievement in 1971. He also served for many years as cultural consultant for the federal Department of Indian and Northern Affairs. Theriault was a prodigious writer of short stories: his eight collections include Le Vendeur d'e'toiles (1961); Si la bombe m'etait contee (1963); L'lle introuvable (1968); (Euvre de chair (1975); and La FemmeAnna et autres contes (1981). Although Theriault's novels have been well received in English translation, his short fiction has not fared so well: Contespour un homme seul, curiously enough, has never been translated into English in its entirety. A study of primitivism, violence, and eroticism, in which characters struggle, often in vain, against basic and sometimes brutal human passions, it is a startling and disturbing work by a writer whose vision of society differs greatly from that of his contemporaries. Nevertheless, as "Le cochon de la mere Soubert,"translated 152 YVESTHERIAULT by Wayne Grady as "Mother Soubert's Pig," shows, Theriault was among the first Canadianwriters to explore some of the fundamental themes of modern literature. Yves Theriault died on October 20, 1983. "Mother Soubert's Pig" is a translation of "Le cochon de la mere Soubert" published in Contespour un homme seul (Montreal: Editions del'Arbre, 1944). MOTHER SOUBERT'S PIG 153 hen Maugrand's wife heard the noise coming from old Soubert's cabin, she said to herself: "Sounds serious, all that whining. I'd better so take a look." Which she did, and found Mother Soubert almost ready to give up the ghost, the pain in her stomach wassobad. "What!" said the old woman, between groans. "I'm not a young woman anymore, and yesterday I ate like a woman about to have her first baby. So today"—she barked painfully between each word—"I'm paying for it. Go away!" But the woman Maugrand was a midwife, and she knew about sickness, having taken care of enough women in the village; and even though it was true Mother Soubert was no spring chicken, she might be sicker than she thought. So Maugrand made her a tisane and said a few prayers for her, the kind that are supposed to rid a person of gastric complaints . As the day passed and Mother Soubert didn't seem to get any better, and maybe even got a bit worse, Maugrand's wife had to think about her own family, which needed looking after too. The older ones would be eyeing the table, the youngest one would be crying for the nipple. Just as she was getting up to go, having decided to leave the old woman's bedside for a while, Mother Soubert gave a loud groan, clutched at her vitals as though she would tear her stomach out, and gave up the ghost. Which annoyed Maugrand's wife no end, because she was there by herself and would now have to describe the old woman's death to the whole village, because everyone would want to know every last detail. But since that was the way of it, she pulled off the old woman's stockings and stripped her body, which did not make for a pleasant spectacle seeing that it was hard as a crust, and yellow, and anyway she ended up pulling a sheet over it. "I'll come back later to wash it and get it ready for the burial," she said to herself. And, blowing out the lamp on the table, she left...