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A Wing to Fly University of New Orleans ScholarWorks@UNO University of New Orleans Theses and Dissertations Dissertations and Theses 5-18-2007 A Wing to Fly Michelle Scanlan University of New Orleans Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarworks.uno.edu/td Recommended Citation Scanlan, Michelle, "A Wing to Fly" (2007). University of New Orleans Theses and Dissertations. 526. https://scholarworks.uno.edu/td/526 This Thesis is protected by copyright and/or related rights. It has been brought to you by ScholarWorks@UNO with permission from the rights-holder(s). You are free to use this Thesis in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses you need to obtain permission from the rights- holder(s) directly, unless additional rights are indicated by a Creative Commons license in the record and/or on the work itself. This Thesis has been accepted for inclusion in University of New Orleans Theses and Dissertations by an authorized administrator of ScholarWorks@UNO. For more information, please contact [email protected]. A Wing to Fly A Thesis Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the University of New Orleans in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts In Film, Theater and Communication Arts Creative Writing By Michelle Ginette Scanlan B.S. University of New Orleans, 1985 M.A. University of New Orleans, 1993 May 2007 Table of Contents Introduction...............................................1 Chapter 1..................................................2 Chapter 2.................................................29 Chapter 3.................................................43 Chapter 4.................................................50 Chapter 5.................................................61 Chapter 6.................................................76 Chapter 7.................................................93 Chapter 8................................................101 Chapter 9................................................107 Chapter 10...............................................120 Chapter 11...............................................126 Chapter 12...............................................132 Chapter 13...............................................156 Chapter 14...............................................175 Chapter 15...............................................183 Chapter 16...............................................192 Chapter 17...............................................204 Chapter 18...............................................218 Chapter 19...............................................236 Chapter 20...............................................241 Chapter 21...............................................248 Chapter 22...............................................253 Chapter 23...............................................265 Chapter 24...............................................289 Chapter 25...............................................306 Vita.....................................................322 ii Introduction In France, as in other countries, the historical record of the events that occurred before, during WII and the aftermath is well documented in history books. Not so well known are the stories of the ordinary families who lived during these years, the period 1925-1956 and the consequences on their lives. The refugee families, those that fled the military fields of Eastern, Northern and the Parisian regions of France, spoke of their struggles as they reached their welcoming destinations, mostly the unobtrusive, non-strategic, agricultural region in the center of France, Le Berry. But like their region, the inhabitants of Le Berry, proud and lovers of their traditions, display a quiet, natural reserve, a silent endurance that has kept their voice hidden. Fictional narration has lent its flexibility in the raising of that voice and in highligting the parallels between the war, outside in the country, and the war inside the home as ordinary families must endure and deal with family struggles. Fictional narration has also enabled the highligting of rapid change, as a consequence of the war, in the country as well as in Le Berry, of human spirit being smothered, even killed by traditions, or being raised above them, victorious. A fictional Berrichon extended family, its rural branch and its urban branh, has been chosen to explore these themes. 1 Chapter I Crafting 1951 Monique woke up and, at once, remembered that the finals had ended at three o‘clock the day before and the undergraduates had been dismissed immediately after the bell. Something strange had fallen upon the campus, an eerie silence. Her plan had been to remain at the university and let the absence of people from classrooms, yards, the absence of noise, give her the peace she needed to finish her manuscript. From her bed she saw, spread on the table, the letter from her mother and remembered precisely the irritation she felt at the suggestion that she change her plans. ―You need some country air,‖ her mother wrote. ―Get away from Poitiers. Bring your trunk here, then go and stay at the little house in Fley. Aunt Célesta said in her letters that it has been well maintained. I‘m sure that it‘s just as quiet there as within those stark gray walls of the university.‖ Since her family moved to the new house, in the center of Châteauroux, Monique visited only once, for a few days last Christmas. The façade, of gray stucco, rose straight up from the narrow sidewalk. Three cement steps led to the front door. 2 It opened on a hallway of highly polished floorboards leading to a short stairway and landing. The first door on the left led to the bedroom of Monique‘s parents, the door on the right to her brother‘s bedroom but he‘d stayed away at school last Christmas. The next door opened onto too small a space to be called a bedroom, but a folding bed was kept there and placed up against the wall. Monique hesitated all day long, walking about the solitary yards of the campus, thinking of Fley, of the burnt domain. She knew that the main farmhouse had remained standing long after her great aunt moved to Paris. Her grandmother had been glad, she‘d said then, to share her apartment with her sister Célesta, glad to have her company. Monique imagined the farmhouse, lifeless, a reminder of the outrage that had taken place there, the loneliness of its furniture covered with discarded sheets. Finally it had been sold with all the land around it. She knew of the small house her mother spoke of in her letter. It had belonged to a great- great grandmother but she had never been there. It might be interesting and nice to be in the country. She returned to her campus room. She easily found a ride with a colleague and the next day she was in Châteauroux. She placed her trunk in the storeroom, 3 contemplated the folding bed and decided to leave for Fley as soon as possible. ―Maman, I‘m going to check the bus schedule.‖ ―But wait, . ..‖ ―I‘ll be right back.‖ Monique was already on the other side of the front door. There were few passengers when she got on the bus the next day. She found a seat by the opened window and, as best she could, settled her back still aching from a restless night in the hard and narrow bed. Her father would pack her typewriter and send it along later on. She was only carrying a soft bag with a few clothes, paper and pens and her manuscript. The early July air had not yet forgotten the sweetness of spring. The leaves waved by as the speeding bus disturbed the stillness of the trees lining the road. The fields exposed their rich, brown earth turned over following the recent harvest. It would rest until fall planting; probably sugar beets, thought Monique, as she imagined the large green and red leaves of the plant. She envied the peacefulness of nature as passages of her novel churned in her mind. She was writing a fictional version of the true love story a young teacher she had befriended told her; the terrible drama of her impossible love for a German soldier, the tragic end. But the writing was not flowing well. Had she made 4 a mistake undertaking a full-length work with so little experience? Perhaps away from the university walls, where the story had been told, the words would flow more easily. Perhaps in the wide-open space of the country, she could free the words from the tightness she felt in them. And seeing Fley again after so many years was beginning to fill her with an anticipation she had not expected. It was nearly two o‘clock when the bus pulled on the square, and stopped next to a large sign made of white porcelain with green letters. It said simply: BUS. Women dressed in black and men in blue overalls were sitting on the bench waiting to get on to their own destination. Of the village, Monique remembered only the church in the center of the square lined with chestnut trees. Her great aunt Célesta had never brought her to the village except to hear the Mass that she never understood. As she stepped down from the bus, the driver said, without looking at her, ―I‘ll be back at five o‘clock.‖ Monique did not respond and instead walked quickly toward the only shop with an opened door: the Café-Tabac-Bus Depot. As she walked in, trying to think of words to explain her presence without having to give more details than necessary, the woman behind the counter greeted her with a friendly smile. Surprised, Monique managed to blurt, ―My great-aunt used to live here, Célesta Basson.‖ 5 ―You‘re little Monique?
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