Grief, guilt, and memories in the pages of Annie Ernaux’s ‘A Woman’s Story’

Losing a loved one to death is an ordeal that everybody is bound to encounter at least once in their life. The dread of losing a parent is at the top. This fear is distinctly perceptible amongst those whose parents have started to trudge into their 50s. I certainly have this fear, and I know my friends and cousins share the same apprehension. Annie Ernaux, the 2022 winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature, has lived through this fear. As a memoirist, she has dedicated A Woman's Story (Ballantine Books, 1992) to her mother. Ernaux tries to engrave her mother's life on the pages of this book, focusing on the time her condition deteriorated due to Alzheimer's, eventually leading to death, and the grief that came with her demise. 

When I started reading the book, it felt like Ernaux wanted to commemorate her mother by capturing their shared memories, as memories tend to transform and fade away—something that is beyond our control. Ernaux acknowledges this in the book. She mentions that A Woman's Place took 10 months to complete. During that time, when she reread certain passages, she noticed that she had forgotten about many of the minor details she had initially included. However, I realised the book served more like a diary for Eranux—a means to attain closure and to explore her emotions. It's evident from the writing that she was very close to her mother. Ernaux boldly exposes her vulnerability by pointing out the multiplicity of complex emotions she faced during that time: pain, anger, guilt, sadness, and abandonment from the unconditional and obsessive love that only parents are capable of. After the loss, Ernaux became disoriented, and escaped into writing to identify her emotions—to tackle and control them, instead of letting the emotions control her. Writing about her inner upheaval and putting words to the hidden turmoil allowed her to recognise and be mindful of them. As a result, this artistic process helped her to take a conscious step towards healing. 

Similarly, Ernaux too had an obsessive type of love for her mother. She wanted to remember her mother exclusively as her mom—not as a wife, a daughter, a sister, or a friend. This represents Ernaux's possessiveness over her memories. Imagining her mother in relation to things other than that of a maternal figure tainted Ernaux's picture of the mother she had always known. After her mother's demise, she detested anything that threatened to make changes to those memories. As a result, she consciously avoided different narratives or new information about her mother's past, ones she hadn't discovered while her mother was alive. A likely reason behind this obsessive possessiveness is that she was an only child—to think that her mother could have a life beyond the embrace of her daughter was unbearable to Ernaux. Thus, she started to treat those memories as a precious inheritance that no one had the right to alter. 

There are two things that struck me the most in the book: firstly, Eranux's thoughts during the funeral, and secondly, her statement about her mother's appearance after Alzheimer's Disease had gripped her. During the funeral, she was put off by every inconvenience regarding people's behaviour, their insensitive comments, or their silly and illogical suggestions. Bearing her circumstances in mind, her reaction to the offenses was justified. Every choice she made about the rites of burial had an emotional touch. Ernaux made sure to bury her mother in the dress she had chosen for herself for her burial. Additionally, she selected a casket made of oak as her mother loved oak trees. 

On the other hand, Eranux makes a bold statement about her mother's appearance when she was sick. She writes, "Every time I went to see her, I was terrified she would look even less 'human'."  Usually, a person's facial features transform after losing all their teeth. This statement invoked my grandmother's image. At 80 with no teeth, Dadi's lips were constantly drawn inward. She would drool a lot and continuously wipe her mouth. Her face was swollen and shrunken at the same time. Her skin was wrinkly and loose. However, I thought of all the intricacies that made her look more childlike. Her movements were slow and clumsy; she would always take support of a wall or furniture while walking. But I remembered that children, more specifically toddlers and infants, would cry seeing her face. I remember my seven-year-old cousin saying, "She looks scary." 

I think Ernaux had such a conflicting reaction to her mother's transformation because she didn't get to live with her mom during the final two years of her life. She took time out of her busy schedule as a single parent and a full-time teacher, and she unfailingly visited her mother at the care facility. As a result, her eyes and mind failed to adjust and accept the gradual changes in her mother. Hence, the occasional visit made those modifications appear otherworldly. Moreover, this statement also represents her guilt. I think Ernaux felt she was abandoning her mother and the responsibilities as a daughter, because she picked the easier option by choosing medical facilities to take care of her. This guilt was gnawing at her conscience. Nonetheless, she often overlooked her love for her mother. As she was the only one alive in the family who routinely visited her mother until the end of her life—not out of obligation, but from love.  

Tahmina Hossain is first and foremost a reader, a lover of literature, and then a writer. If you enjoy rambling about literature like her, then reach out at: literary.ramblings.by.t@gmail.com.