Armand's Memory

Subject:	Armand's Memory
Date:	Saturday, October 17, 1998 10:48:45 -0500
From:	Jerome Camus
To:	Catherine Camus

Cambridge, Saturday morning

I met Armand and Dorothy yesterday afternoon. I spent nearly three hours at their place.

* * * * * * * * *

Armand's first words to me were: "Long time no see!" Familiarity and homeliness I had no reason to expect. I also felt apprehension towards what had become an inevitable meeting. Only later, having better understood who Armand really was, could I grasp his willingness to meet. Since he knew me, I suspect he wished all this had occurred many years earlier. He even asked me what had become of me, as he was expecting me to ring him in September instead of the first few days of October.

I know this is a different view of things, but if there is anything I must convey to you, it is the following: mom was right. Armand is clearly not the entrepreneurial type. I think the only real risk he ever took was to emigrate to the U.S. - consider this: he has lived for the past 37 years in the same house, a rarity in America.

This is what held him back. Let me illustrate. He lived his entire life between Boston and Westford. Métro-boulot-dodo; in this respect, he stayed very Parisian. Established there, with his family, he could live out all the fundamentals of his life, near his love, near his atelier, near his garden. This proximity kept him busy, kept him from travelling to France, and, kept him from believing that you could ever insert yourself in this system of life, that you might be bored in America. Again, these are only my perceptions. Yet I felt them and, since yesterday evening, I thought them through and came to the same conclusions.

* * * * * * * * *

You must also know that, as I was leaving Westford, he told me in barely veiled terms that, if I found you, you would probably be mad. He never wrote and it bothers him; when he does write he only can do so on topics that interest him or as answers to specific questions. When he does sit down and write: "It's dry" (as he said this, his face translated an expression of self-disgust). His eyes were showing a form of despair. I believe he regrets some things, deep down inside...

When I left, he said goodbye at least four times. This may surprise you. I know this is a closed door, keeping the bitterness outside. Yet, I think you should change this into a window, so that you can feel better about it all. If I can give you anything from this experience it is to tell you: "that is simply the way he is".

Mom was also not the right person for him; I think he is much better off with Dorothy. The only thing these two women have in common it is their passion for plants and flowers.

* * * * * * * * *

There. Those were the dynamics, the interior side to the meeting. Now what did it add to our history book? Relating them based on the chronological order in which they occurred, I think is best. I will attempt to integrate some answers you were looking for. Many things are identical to what he wrote in his letters to Marion. Nonetheless, I managed to go deeper and find out some new things.

membership They met at this club where musicians and a choir met. They met well before 1949. They went out together for quite a while. Mom would go there with Joseph Monnoyeur. At the time, he had problems walking, used a cane, but still walked the considerable distance to get to Montrouge; he must have loved this activity a lot.

Armand does not remember exactly when Bernadette came across the 'Marchand' story, but he recalls she had doubts, as voices were circulating at her school. She used the name Monnoyeur, but there always seemed to be a problem when her grades and dossier came up; he remembers two occasions where these documents led to some form of notable 'event'.

Take note: he knew her when she was at school.

When they decided to get married, they had to go in front of a justice of the peace for a 10-15 minute audience to ascertain what they did, what were their professions, their ambitions, etc. and thus obtain permission to get married.

By pushing my questioning along this line of inquiry, I found out that she did work before they got married. She was a draftsperson. She was apparently very good at tracing elegant lines. Somehow though, his memory seemed a bit faulty in this regard; I have no reason to doubt his sincerity here.

As for Armande and the conflict with Geneviève Monnoyeur, no new light was shed on this chapter. He says the Monnoyeur did not want Bernadette to marry so young. That Armande, being a seamstress, quite the contrary helped Bernadette choose her fabrics and patterns and made her wedding dress. This begets the questions: why not wait until October 1950, when Bernadette would have been 21 and thus avoid the legal proceeding? My disturbed thoughts are the following:

Armand must have been under some charm. It may have been more of a physical attraction than anything else.
Maman had her rage inside: the loss of her name (which her father probably explained on his deathbed) and the loss of her father, which she respected immensely according to the stories I heard.
The marriage was probably one of convenience. A way out...
Armande, must have played some part. Maybe she pushed things. If so, what was her motive; could it be she wanted two children to look over?

Did he say everything? Bernadette and Armand were both fond of half-truths. Or did something happen that he never was aware of?

Another interesting detail: Mom, to get married, had to go to the center of Paris, maybe some court, to get documents for the wedding. He does not remember what exactly, but this memory in itself is interesting: aside from a birth certificate, what else could have required her to go to the center of town. Aside from a document that related the fact she was in the custody of the Monnoyeur.

Quebec Lines The departure to America was precipitated for one reason: your arrival. They had to sail before you were born, or go through the immigration procedures anew - for three persons this time. Then, their sailing was not in the best of periods (as I had told you): the equinox. You were bounced around quite a bit my dear... And at the eighth month of pregnancy, this was risky...

* * * * * * * * *

Then life in America. He admitted, not directly but at least on two occasions, he was guilty of never being there. Work, overtime, English courses, night classes... even in the best of cases, they would have taken their toll. She had no one to talk to. Even television could not interest her (that blew my socks off, I had no TV until I was nine or so...). Alone in Niagara Falls. Alone in Cambridge. This confirms what B. Zemb told you.

The admission of failure and divorce ensued. But it went OK; no animosity lay between the two of them. No major heartbreak.

In 1958, Mom lost a child from Paul; an extra-uterine pregnancy. The fetus developed in the wrong place and she had to have half of her reproductive system removed - the left side (now I remember the scar...). She had an appendectomy, to boot, at about the same time. Armand said that Bernadette quipped: "Now I can go about having fun, no risk..." He says I may be an accident; hard to swallow... The interesting thing is Mom continued to keep Armand abreast of events. He believes it is because they shared all those years together, which made it easier for her to talk to him.

Another oddity. Dorothy said that they did not know Bernadette came back in 1960. But that is clearly mistaken, at best, since Armand knew where she lived and saw me many times. She added that they knew each other well. When? After the divorce? Upon her return in 1960? Clearly, there is a contradiction here.

He even checked with his lawyer about my name: Mom had every right to keep her married name. Marchand must have been too painful to consider, so Camus did fine. He never could get a copy of *my* Birth Certificate. As his first son was born at about the same time, this must have bothered him.

Armand believes the recognition of the divorce in France was an almost automatic thing. (I question the truth of this statement: a French magistrate friend of mine had already told me that such a procedure was long and costly...) He does not recall well when it occurred. Nor the date of change of custody. In every case, he did everything at a distance; he never went to France or any hearing whatsoever.

The curiosity lies in his belief that these events all occurred well before the dates shown on the documents. His observations were:

it is when: "...she started travelling" that he moved to change the guardianship (she only traveled in 58-59).
he believes that Armande would take you every week-end and for the holidays.
He did not know you were with the Monnoyeur, not in the least bit.

In the end, because of documents I told him I had, he admitted receiving detailed expenses from Armande only as of 1964.

* * * * * * * * *

The picture has more color now, more tone:

Bernadette used the alimony to cover the renovation of the apartment in Cambridge and had the rest go to France.
Armand was even more penny-wise. He did what he could, like pay six moths of rent after the divorce, in addition to the alimony. Yet he still was careful (he remembers his: "...first salary was $2.10 an hour"). Given his only home and the things inside, he clearly was not a big spender...
Armande sees Bernadette travelling and gets irate. She plays this card on her son: Catherine is neglected.
This goes on for a while. When Bernadette returns to America, she starts putting more heat under Armand's pot.
I come along. And I now realize that it may be because of me and my father that you did not have a mother... Sorry...
This goes on, as best as people could manage, until 1963. Armande and the Lu are not exactly on great terms. Money, is probably a part of it, as Josée alluded to...
Magda brings the situation to a head in 1963. The trip is marked by an anticipated return.

Why? Because Mom realized she had few many options. Slowly, she had abandoned you; the process was probably complete by now. You were better off in France anyway: security, family, French. And, by God, how difficult it is to make a big decision...

On her return from that trip, her decision really takes shape: she focuses all on me. The decision hurts her. Our mother, after all, was probably made to blow a lot of money away. Therefore, she punished herself by living frugally. All her eggs are in one basket with my name on it. All the while caressing the hope of returning to France some day.

* * * * * * * * *

Armand was not around much after that. He did have documents of the house my Mom bought; he even gave me a photocopy. He once soldered together an amplifier that Mom had bought. Armand noted to himself that the thing would heat up a lot if she ever brought it to France.

Then nothing. As of the change of guardianship, most certainly.

* * * * * * * * *

Armand showed me what he had - a box about the size of the one you brought back from America. Letters clearly showed Marion's addresses: rue du Par... then rue du C... It was in fact easy to trace you, under either name (he believes that you would have kept your married name). He numbered Marion's letters, just as she did. He seems to value them a lot. He appears to have memorized their content... I think Marion should know this.

He built a family tree for Dorothy's family. There is barely enough room on the wall to hold every branch he was able to trace...

Then he offered me a photo. One of his marriage with Bernadette. It is, apparently, his only photograph; he gladly offered it to me. He added that you might wish a copy eventually, if you are not too mad at all this... He did not want a copy for himself:

No, that's note necessary. I will die soon.
Soon? How is that?
We all end up dying...

I will send him one anyway, with a postcard from Montréal. With my excuses for having stirred things up. And telling him that I reached you over the phone on Sunday the 18th (never 17, you know...)

As I was leaving, Dorothy wished me luck, as did Armand. And Dorothy added: "Do come back".

* * * * * * * * *

By the way, Armand hated the 331. For him, a Frenchman having learned English late, it was pure torture trying to say that address:

"...thhhhlee -thhiltee one ah-vahd stheet". I had a nice chuckle inside...

So there. Later in the evening, Phil told me some real hot ones about Mom and my Dad. I will keep that for another episode...

All the best to you three

Jérôme