Tell your story: A French village memoir writing workshop experience

Tell your story. Write and exchange with others in a group. Ten sessions facilitated by a professional author. Free for locals over 60.”  said the flyer posted at the entrance of the post office/Mairie (town hall) of our Loire Valley village. I felt like giving it a try.

I’d never attempted writing anything in French since my student days. My last creative writings in French were even further back, from my “lycée” (French high school) days. I’ve always enjoyed writing and reading in English, so much so, that it took me years to read comfortably in French despite speaking it fluently, possibly because I couldn’t read in French fast enough for my taste.

The booklet published as a result of the memoir workshops.

During the first session, I was surprised to discover that the workshop intended to collect stories of the village from the local “anciens” – the senior citizens – who’d grown up here. “Hmm, maybe this isn’t for me?” I thought. I’ll be 65 soon, but I don’t see myself as a senior citizen, and I’m definitely not a “local”. If the flyer had specifically mentioned those 2 aspects presented as the writing workshop’s main objective, I would not have signed up.

“Tell your story,” said the flyer, not “Let’s collect the memories of our local senior citizens” which was what the mayor presented to us as the workshop’s main goal. We were, in fact, a disparate group; half of the participants lived in the village but were not “locals” who’d grown up here. The workshop moderator, a professional writer named Marie Remande, was open to us writing whatever we felt called to write, while gently guiding us with writing prompts inspired by vintage photos of the village.

The village mayor managed to convince some prominent local seniors to attend, who regaled us with colorful stories of the town during WW2 and afterward – tales of houses occupied by Nazi officers, of fathers taken away to prison camps in Germany, then escaping and making their way back to the village, of watching the glow of fires from the nearby bombing of the city of Tours by Allied Forces.

We learned that nearly everyone in the village grew tobacco, a government-subsidized crop at the time that provided a nice supplementary income if you had a good quality harvest. Growing tobacco was a labor-intensive activity and the adults delegated the more tedious tasks to children, including the schoolteacher who enlisted his students to help with the initial planting. He forgot, however, that they’d be absent during the summer months when most of the work needed to be done. He only grew tobacco for one season.

Written records were rare

Most of the tales told by the local seniors were not written down. It was storytelling in the true oral tradition of the “conteurs” (storytellers), an activity still happening today in France but is much less prevalent than before when it was an essential pastime during the dark winter months in the absence of radio, TV, or online media. The facilitator took copious notes during these storytelling intervals and would read back a summary at the following session, to verify that she’d captured the main points so they could be included in the compilation.

The outcome: an important booklet

The outcome was a small booklet containing a collection of our writings, tied together by a common writing prompt proposed by Marie at each session, and illustrated by some of the vintage photos we’d written about.

Marie did a heroic job compiling and editing the final manuscript so we could review it over the summer.

The mayor organized an event to present the book. Excerpts were read aloud and the “verre de l’amitié” was served (“glass of friendship” i.e. a short happy hour with drinks and snacks) to celebrate the successful outcome.

What an experience

I enjoyed the experience. The facilitator Marie created a gentle, kind, safe space.

I didn’t expect people to appreciate what I’d written. I was touched that they chose one of my texts to conclude the collection of essays. I’m fearful of the narrow-mindedness of a local community, so I was surprised by the positive reception and friendly environment, the “bienveillance” (benevolence) of it all, like they say in French.

I appreciated Marie’s presence and support while admiring her “cat-herding” skills that tied our writings together into something that could be shared with others.

My contribution

The writing prompt was to write about an object in our home that was important to us.

The essay I wrote was used to conclude our collection of writings. The original French version and the English translation can be found below.

L’objet que j’apporte est ce petit nid d’oiseau, deux nids en fait, qui sont tombés d’arbres dans notre jardin pendant des jours de grand vent. Le nid vient donc de “chez nous” et illustre le fait que nous avons construit notre “nid” à nous en venant s’installer ici avec nos enfants en 2006, il y a 18 ans maintenant. Le fait que ces nids soient tombés des arbres après des jours de grand vent illustre la fragilité de nos constructions de vie. Il suffit de peu pour que tout bascule et soit détruit. Ces nids illustrent aussi très littéralement ce que les américains appellent “le nid vide” pour désigner un foyer, encore habité par les parents, dont les enfants, devenus adultes, se sont “envolés”. Ils appellent aussi “le syndrome du nid vide” la phase d’adaptation, parfois difficile, des parents à la vie sans la présence de leurs enfants au foyer. J’écris ces mots le 6 juin, jour de commémoration du Débarquement en Normandie, qui renforce mon sentiment de la fragilité des nids de paix dans ce monde, en cette veille d’élections européennes, où la participation risque d’être faible, avec une montée des extrêmes qui sera sans doute largement commentée dans les médias. Mais revenons à l’évocation du nid et de sa construction, avec l’idée de la construction d’une histoire que se transmet aux générations futures. C’est seulement ainsi qu’elle continue à exister, au travers des histoires racontées et transmises, qui permettent à ces constructions fragiles de traverser l’espace-temps et de perdurer au-delà des lieux et des personnes qui les incarnent.”

The object that I’ve brought to reflect upon is a nest, two nests actually, that fell from the trees in our yard a few days ago, when there was a lot of wind. These nests come from “chez nous” (our place), where we built our own “nest” when we came to live in this house in 2006, 18 years ago now. The fact that the nests fell from the trees after a gusty day illustrates how fragile our own life constructions can be. It doesn’t take much for them to come crashing down and be destroyed. These nests also illustrate, quite literally, what Americans call “the empty nest” to designate a home still occupied by the parents, where the children have spread their wings and “flown away” to explore new horizons in their young adult life. Americans also refer to the “empty nest syndrome” for the sometimes difficult period during which the parents get used to living without their children.
I’m writing these words on June 6th, the day of commemoration of D-day; it reinforces my perception of the fragility of the “nests” of peace in the world, a few days before the EU legislative elections, where voter turnout may be low and extremist votes could increase, both of which will undoubtedly be extensively reported upon by the media.
Back to the evocation of the nest and its construction, with the idea of building stories that can be passed on to future generations. This is the only way that they will continue to exist. Through their telling to others, our fragile constructions will endure beyond space and time, lasting longer than the people who tell them.”


Have you ever been involved in a project like this?  Have you experienced family records that are not written? How did you handle this? Please share in the comments section below.


EDITOR NOTE:
I’m intrigued by family history and the recording of those memories. In France, I am very keen to discover family memoir writing programs or village memoir programs. the facilitator of this program was Marie Remande  (if making contact please mention Lorraine Tilbury and MyFrenchLife Magazine. This particular program was supported by the local council.

And finally if you have any knowledge of anything similar then please contact me
Judy MacMahon
info@myfrenchlife.org


Image credits: the author


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About the Contributor

Lorraine Tilbury

I learned French as a child in Greece, studied vet med in France, where I have lived ever since. On Substack I'll share Mom's WW2 stories, her marriage to my American dad, her French influence on me before I spoke a word of French.

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3 Comments

  1. Betty Carlson Oct 12, 2024 at 8:03 PM - Reply

    Hi Lorraine! That sounds like a great experience. My village had an “association” going on along those lines and they produced a few issues of a publication called “Mémoires de Nos Villages.” I’m not sure what’s become of it. I don’t think they had professional help — it’s great that your group did!

  2. Lorraine Oct 13, 2024 at 6:04 PM - Reply

    Yes we were very fortunate that the activity was subsidized by the regional “Mutuelle” (the government health insurance agency) under an initiative to stimulate social interaction for senior citizens who are often living in isolation.
    I’m not sure that they achieved that initial objective… The one local senior woman who might have fit that profile was intimidated by the idea of writing and starting what she’d written with others; she only came to the first session, told us so many wonderful stories because she was one of the village kindergarten/elementary school assistants. She remembered the name of ask the children she’d interacted with. I was astonished that she remembered the names of my 2 younger children who went to school there, although they’re now in the late 20s!
    Unfortunately her stories didn’t make it into the book because it was the very 1st session and Marie, our facilitator, had not taken any notes.

    • Judy MacMahon Oct 14, 2024 at 10:51 AM - Reply

      That’s very interesting @Lorraine
      and probably not surprising when you think more about it. These are older people telling stories about their lives and memories. My approach would be to try to engage them in a chat and record their responses. The talking is the natural part for them, the storytelling, the sharing. I wonder if that approach would render a more fulsome response.
      Judy

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