«Sankhara», an experience to ponder

Tuesday books - Loris S. Musumeci

«I was no longer alone and free for the rest of my life. I had to be there and protect their sense of security. It wasn’t entirely clear to me, and at the time I thought I resented Sébastien for still having the social life that I no longer had. He tried to understand me, offering to take over when he got home, to let me get away for a bit… To go where? To go shopping? To see friends? Friends who talked about nothing but my babies and how much work I must have with twins? I didn’t feel like it at all. […] I felt fat and tired. As if I still had my babies inside me. I felt empty and full at the same time. When I wasn’t taking care of the twins, when I wasn’t feeding them, when I wasn’t rocking them, my body was useless and ugly. It had no existence other than the one my children gave it.»

How many women, how many mothers—with or without twins, for that matter—have felt the same exhaustion as Hélène? How many men have experienced the same unease as her husband, Sébastien? This couple is ordinary. They’re just like any normal family: two young people who started out madly in love, went on to have children whom they love more than anything, and are trying to lead a simple life—more or less happy, neither dramatic nor dull. Hélène and Sébastien are, quite simply, middle-class parents.

A couple close to the readers

Like most couples, they lead a satisfying life, though they’re never completely satisfied. Like most couples, they’re doing pretty well. Like most couples, they provide their children with the love and upbringing they need. Hélène and Sébastien are the quintessential average couple. Most readers will recognize themselves in them. Just as they’ll recognize themselves in the crisis engulfing Hélène and the weariness setting in for the couple. They wanted a simple life, but they find neither life nor simplicity in their existence. Nothing but emptiness.

This couple is at the end of their rope. When you’re at the end of your rope, you either put up with it and keep quiet, or you throw it all away. Women who, in more practical terms, dream of regaining their youthful passion, carefree spirit, and teenage bodies. Men who are giving in without restraint to the infamous midlife crisis. In the case of Hélène and Sébastien, however, there is neither a premature midlife crisis for Sébastien—even though he’s tempted—nor depression or a return to adolescence for Hélène—even though she’s tempted. In principle, you shouldn’t wait for your husband to save a marriage—unless it’s a matter of saving yourself for good.

Read also: We are Madame Bovary!

Taking Stock of Your Life

It’s Hélène who’s leaving. But only for ten days. Without making her five-year-old twins feel abandoned. She’s written them a little note for each day, which will be delivered to them every day while she’s away. Children shouldn’t have to endure their parents’ relationship struggles—at least, we try to shield them from it. Sébastien doesn’t know where his wife is going; she simply told him in a letter that she wouldn’t be reachable for the next ten days. So he feels abandoned, then overwhelmed, then angry.

It’s right in the middle of back-to-school season. It’s September 2001. Hélène leaves on September 6. And Sébastien, an overwhelmed father and journalist at AFP, will face some organizational challenges when September 11 arrives. The kids, of course, are going to act up. And Hélène is going to become disillusioned. She’s gone to a Vipassana meditation retreat that requires silence and stillness almost all day long. Not easy. Not easy at all!

But undoubtedly necessary. To withdraw from the chaos of the world—and there was certainly chaos in September 2001—in order to «see things as they really are,» according to the definition of this type of meditation. To take a look at oneself. To discover one’s true self. To free oneself from sankhara, those mental conditioning that prevent us from living our daily reality with peace of mind. To return to the world a little more freely, to save what matters: a relationship, one’s family, the freedom to be free.

An Invitation to Meditation

Frédérique Deghelt talks to us about meditation without preaching. She strikes the right balance between the distance she maintains from Vipassana meditation—as Hélène struggles to experience it—and Vipassana meditation itself, from which she seeks to convey some valuable insights to the reader. There’s also a good balance between the humorous—even ironic—tone she adopts and the deeper insights she offers as food for thought. This is particularly evident in the quotes from other inspiring authors that she includes as epigraphs for each chapter, which correspond to each day of the meditation. These epigraphs, in fact, serve to shed light on the chapter’s content; this is, after all, the purpose of an epigraph, a role it rarely fulfills.

But if Sankhara Although it deals with meditation, it is not necessarily a novel about meditation. Each chapter corresponds to a day of the meditation retreat, and each chapter is divided into two sections that recount the parallel experiences of Hélène and Sébastien, giving voice to each of them in turn. This structure is the book’s greatest strength because it itself adopts a meditative rhythm that draws the reader in, following the distinct and separate introspections of Hélène and Sébastien. Thus, this novel is a meditation in and of itself; while it addresses meditation, it remains focused on the evolution of two individuals in entirely different contexts who, through a crisis, find the opportunity first to take stock of themselves, and then to discover each other as spouses and parents.

This meditation, however, suffers from its length—am I lacking patience?—and its fleeting boredom. Sankhara does not claim to be a big novel. But it’s the sharing of a fictional experience—that of a fictional couple—which, through its closeness to the reader, nevertheless manages to speak to them and challenge them. Frédérique Deghelt is well aware that her book doesn’t fall into the self-help category—and thank goodness for that!—and that it’s no substitute for a meditation workshop or a spiritual retreat. Nevertheless, it invites us to do just that. The opportunity for a retreat doesn’t come along often, but it presented itself to me early this year, right in the middle of reading this novel. Is fate shaped by what we read—and thus by our current state of mind? Food for thought.

«How could I express more clearly what became clear to me at the end of this adventure? I was going to write, of course, but above all, I could never again close the door I had opened, nor forget what had made me realize that to be human is to take on a physical form for a time in order to gain the power to break through our walls.»

Photo credit: © Actes Sud

Write to the author: loris.musumeci@leregardlibre.com

Frédérique Deghelt
Sankhara
Actes Sud Publishing
2020
387 pages

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