Do What They Say or Else by Annie Ernaux

Do What They Say or Else by Annie Ernaux

Author:Annie Ernaux [Ernaux, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC043000 FICTION / Coming of Age, FIC044000 FICTION / Women
Publisher: Nebraska


The only thing left to tell is what started happening at the beginning of October. Seeing my menstrual blood was something that always made me happy. We don’t have to get in fights like boys to make our blood flow—calmly and without violence—every month. But this time it was late. One Sunday, when it was very hot, we went to Aunt Elise’s house. She asked my father, “When are you going to get your daughter married off?” My mother said, “She has plenty of time. Her studies come first. We don’t want to have more than one iron in the fire.” I smiled graciously during their conversation. Just because I didn’t like my mother anymore didn’t mean I had to cause trouble for her in front of everyone or tell them they didn’t know what they were talking about. They were smiling, happy that the order of irons in the fire had been respected so far. And it was right after that, while eating the main course, that they starting talking about Monique, my aunt who was still just as stupid as ever, and about Daniel. “It’s fine to brag about how brave you are, but you still have to find work, and he’s a hothead.” I had the feeling that I wouldn’t get it this month, or maybe even in the months to come. That it had just stopped for no reason. They were all arguing, and my brain was getting chopped into little pieces by their words. It felt like there was a big shadow falling over me, like on those evenings when we used to play at the house on Rue Césarine. Space seemed to shrink until it was no bigger than the bottom of one of the glasses on the table. It didn’t matter if I didn’t get my periods anymore. My aunt said, “Cat got your tongue, Anne? You used to be more talkative.” It was more like their tongues that I had lost track of. Everything felt jumbled up inside me, and it didn’t line up with what they were saying. With Mathieu, it still did, or it seemed like that to me, but it’s better not to think about him, or I’m afraid I’ll go crazy. That evening, my mother criticized me for eating too much. “What are people going to think of you? You should always leave the table feeling hungry.” We ate supper at home. She gathered the crumbs from her bread together and threw them onto the middle of her plate, which she had wiped clean. My father was already watching his movie. “Say,” she asked, “have you ‘noticed’ anything yet this month?” “Well, no.” “What could have happened to throw you off your cycle?” Every day after that she asked me again, with a smile but no kind word. When my father was around, she changed the subject. She must not love him anymore either.

I knew she would drag me to see Berdouillette the following Saturday. She couldn’t think about anything else.



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