The benevolent eye of Xochitl Borel

Le Regard Libre No. 35 – Alexandre Wälti

The meeting is scheduled for October 29, 2017, at 2:00 p.m. in Vevey. She’s already waiting under the tree in front of the train station lobby, tapping her foot. The weather is gray. It will clear up by the end of the interview. We’ll be discussing, among other things, the surnames, characters, and themes in her novel. The Geese of Rousseau Island, published in 2017 by Editions de l’Aire.

This second book is more ambitious than the previous one. The Alphabet of Angels centered on two touching characters, a mother and her blind daughter, while The Geese of Rousseau Island depicts seven life stories, ranging from despair to tenderness, that are set primarily in Geneva.

The Geese of Rousseau Island tells the story of the intertwined lives of Mehran, Farid, Majda, Tsyori, Fiora, Eva, and Eliott. These seven characters, who at the beginning of the story have nothing in common, gradually cross paths in the wake of a suicide. This tragedy, which is far from representative of the novel’s overall tone, is what triggers Eliott’s police investigation. This investigation serves as one of several threads that weave through the story.

On the Importance of «Identity Ambiguity»

Speaking of these characters, who are they in The Geese of Rousseau Island ? That’s the first question we discuss with Xochitl Borel. Fifteen minutes have passed, and we’re sitting in a historic brasserie near the Vevey train station. Carefully polished wood covers the walls of the dining room, giving the place a refined feel. This material reflects the style of the author from French-speaking Switzerland: the framework of the story is solid and masterful, while the heart of the narrative is tender.

First, we’ll discuss the importance of the surname in the plot. More specifically, the confusion it causes, particularly in the cases of Mehran and Farid. Xochitl Borel was struck by the fact «that some people in Geneva use a different last name depending on the situation.» « She points out that the »surname is a Western invention« and that »Afghans, for example, do not have last names.« However, the federal government requires one from every migrant entering Swiss territory. She adds that »the family name is sometimes a source of concern for this segment of our population.”.

She takes a sip of coffee, quickly sets the cup down, and emphasizes that she is talking about «identity confusion» in its entirety. Uncertainty does indeed drive all of her characters. They are searching for the roots of their identities. For example, Eliott discovers a part of his past that he was unaware of—and that Fiora doesn’t dare admit to him. This is what makes Xochitl Borel’s writing so rich. She uses her protagonists’ identities as a catalyst for plot development.

Our conversation continues as the waitress politely interrupts us at the end of her shift. We turn our attention to the radiant figure of Tsyori. She is an undocumented building superintendent who works off the books and lives in precarious conditions. As soon as we mention Tsyori, Xochitl Borel smiles, interrupts the conversation, and quietly explains the meaning of the name: «who lacks nothing.» She learned this from a friend from Madagascar.

«—Ma’am, are you asleep?”
Tsyori turns around. A little girl, her face framed by a halo of blond curls, stands before her; a simple pride shines in the girl’s eyes, radiating throughout her tiny body, firmly planted on her two legs. She holds a stick firmly in her tiny hand, which is still a little chubby from childhood.
– No, I'm not sleeping.
Tsyori propped herself up on her elbows; the little girl moved a little closer. She was wearing an oversized red T-shirt, ill-fitting shorts—which must have originally been a pair of worn-out pants—and boots that reached up to her knees; the patch of skin between the rubber of the boots and the top of the shorts is brown with dirt. […]
– You can help me if you want. I'm going to build a little house for the earthworms. […]
– You don't say a word. The other adults, usually, they're always talking… There you go, look, Ma'am: now all we have to do is wait for the worms to find their way home.
The little girl is done; she’s rubbing her hands vigorously, as much to remove the dirt as for the pleasure of the motion, just as she’s rubbing her knees vigorously but without removing anything, because there, it would take a huge bucket of water and a horsehair brush to remove the crust of mud, but never mind, she rubs her knees again, just for the sake of it; then the tiny blond ball staggers over to Tsyori and settles on her stomach like pollen; and there, in her arms, the little girl falls asleep. She simply falls asleep.»

A «character city»

This excerpt from the novel is at the heart of the only scene that takes place outside of Geneva. Tsyori is in the mountains when a child calls out to her. On one side is the undocumented migrant; on the other, the model little girl. The contrast is at its peak. And yet, affection and innocence bring them together for a moment. Xochitl Borel confirms, with a knowing look, the importance of this passage. She also confides that it is meant to evoke openness to the world and freedom of movement.

She particularly enjoys describing the unique location of the city at the end of the lake: «There’s something incredible about Geneva. It’s a river city. The Rhône flows through it and inspires travel. For the group of people portrayed in the book, there’s no way out because they don’t take the train or fly, and they have no means of transportation. So they don’t often leave the city. And yet the countryside isn’t far away.»

Xochitl Borel goes on to explain that she wanted to write about Geneva «as if it were a character.» « She focused on the »main thoroughfares,« the »details of the city,« and the »river that flows in« because, for her, they represent »Geneva just as much as its current history.” Water flows toward a center just as blood flows from the veins to the heart. She drinks the last drop of her coffee and glances briefly at the images of the Fête des Vignerons, projected onto a screen in the brasserie. There is just as much humility on the faces of the farmers marching in the parade as there is in the hearts of Xochitl Borel’s characters.

Kind-hearted people

Finally, we come to the kindness that drives all the characters in the novel. Upon hearing this term, Xochitl Borel becomes assertive and adopts an almost militant tone:

«This kindness was already evident in The Alphabet of Angels. It’s funny because that’s something people often criticize me for. People tell me, ‘Your characters are too good.‘ In response to that—and to prove the opposite—I invite them to listen to the tenderness in Brel and Bourvil, and I tell myself, ’Yes, maybe I’m exaggerating, but that’s okay.’ There are already plenty of novels in contemporary literature that go in the opposite direction—toward the trashy, the violent, the dark. The characters in *Les Oies* also have their flaws; I don’t strip them of their dark side or their inner chaos.

Nevertheless, I deliberately highlight the moments when they manage to be kind to one another, because that’s ultimately how humanity endures. I feel that kindness isn’t emphasized enough, and I focus on characters who are good because I believe in it. I’d also add that I like to develop my characters’ kindness because caring people are all too often seen as “goodies” who get taken advantage of—as naive. But that’s not naivety at all. It’s also worth noting that the characters in the Geese »They have almost nothing left but kindness. I get the impression that it’s becoming the go-to solution in very precarious situations."

To cut off this call for empathy and love for others would have been a crime against humanity. Or maybe not. That’s true. Let’s not overreact. These words by Xochitl Borel are valuable because they capture the essence of the novel in just a few words The Geese of Rousseau Island and the purpose of her characters. Her writing is like a black-headed gull flying over an abandoned factory. She has mastered the art of contrast and brings intimate stories into sharp relief to remind us of our humanity.

The interview is coming to an end. We quickly exchange a few more reading recommendations from authors from French-speaking Switzerland. Xochitl Borel particularly enjoys the series Beauty on Earth, The Poet's Passage and If the sun never came back by Ramuz, and she admits, above all, to being fascinated by «the imaginative power» of Monique Saint-Hélier’s correspondence from La Chaux-de-Fonnière, as well as the connection she «has with her dreams.».

We didn't even notice the time passing. When it comes to a passion for words, it's always the same story: we read, we share, we talk, we laugh, we feel, we lose track of time, and we reread endlessly. Thank goodness!

Write to the author : alexandrewaelti@gmail.com

Photo credit: © A. Guttiérez