I am looking for a man. Pierre Min (1947)Isabelle
tied a big blue apron around her thin waist and plunged her red hands
in the greasy water. It was a chore not pleasant but it had to be done
after every meals. Doing the washing-up wasn’t a chore for men.
Isabelle didn’t want to leave to anyone else to care for the housework.
It was like an unexpressed agreement between men and her. While they
worked in the fields, she filled her role as a farmer’s wife. Like an
actress happy to create a character, she had at first accepted these
new occupations as a game, sometimes tiring, but always enjoyable.
Then, little by little, she identified herself to this character, and
nothing distinguished her from a real farmer, if not for the elegance
of her appearance and her gestures, which made her neighbours say that
“she wasn’t born in the countryside”. She was in a hurry to finish her
work, not to powder her bronzed nose – she hadn’t used make-up for a
while – not even to artistically tie, as she used to, her curly hair
which caressed her face: other jobs following one another in a regular
rythm, implacable, abstaining her from dreaming and hanging around.
Admittedly, Calendal was minding the animals and was taking care of the
major jobs in the farm. But in spite of this, her own share was heavy.
Cooking the meals, milking the cows, making cheese and butter, bringing
back eggs, preparing in advance jobs for the men to do the following
day, stitching up torn clothes, required from her a never ending
attention and effort. She accepted her role with liveliness and
enthusiasm because she knew that her presence dispersed an uneasiness
which, without her being here, would have already provoqued some
fearful clashes. She shooed the brave hens who were pecking at
scattered bread crumbs on the floor. How hard it was to create a cosy
house with all these impudents getting everywhere.