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January 30, 2005

memories of the carnival

In my hometown of Lafontaine we had a miniature version of the Carnaval de Québec, with a small parade, small hills to slide down on pieces of cardboard that the elders waxed for maximum speed. The high point was the Petit Bonhomme crowning, a diminutive copy of Bonhomme Carnaval. On the year my brother turned 10, he was called to duty. He got to wave from a flourished parade float, but he was also mandated to raise 200 $ for the local Optimist Club. I don’t know how familiar this organization will ring; I believe it has branches all over the world. I never had any idea what was going on at the Optimist Club, except they were always raising money for themselves and holding rocking chair marathons. The Optimist Club Junior was for kids 8-14, and my friends and I all attended it, because of rumoured dance parties. I remember getting kicked out once for my contribution being vulgar on a collage work. Everyone was kicked out at some point or other, even the quiet ones. Then we were all re-allowed into the club following the same vague ceremonials, reciting the Optimist rules, shaking the hand of those who claimed they had been offended.

I only attended the Quebec city carnival a few times, but never did I feel at ease there, nor did I manage to escape the threatening sense of being back into the Optimists’ fold, white as snow, ready to kick you out at the slightest misbehavior.

Not long after he hung up his Petit Bonhomme costume, my brother and I founded a Bitter club jr. We held a fundraiser, purported to help us buy sturdier fundraiser boxes, the ones we used being old butter pots with a cut-out hole on the lid and inspiring pity. After a few years we had amassed a pretty sum, until one night my brother raided the locked tinboxes and took off for the sea. He left me only a couple of dollars, and a note suggesting I order chinese food, like we used to do whenever we felt fortunate. But I got mad.

And from then on, I never rested. My efforts culminated in the Union certification and ensuing revolt of Bonhomme Carnaval, which got all the elders from the Optimist Club up in arms. It is now obvious that their sinister credo cannot withstand the modern world, and I have faith that with their surrender, new hope will unlock in the heart of this foolish, carnival town.

Posted by nathalie at January 30, 2005 12:57 PM