D'una guèrra, l'autra - Joan Saubrement

D'una guèrra, l'autra - Joan Saubrement

A simple and sympathetic account of a happy childhood, despite poverty and war, in a working-class family in Lorraine. A book that will also interest teenagers and young adults for its description of the way of life at the beginning of the 20th century.

The author of "D'una mar, l'autra" recounts his youth in Lorraine, until he became a radio operator for the merchant navy: in short, "Simbad's childhood", as his preface says.
To conclude, he makes a personal and more general assessment and, as he has "spent more than ten years as a captain in the merchant navy in all the countries of the Middle East, from the Maghreb to Turkey, passing through Libya, Egypt, Lebanon and Syria", he gives "an analysis of the geo-political situation that the events we are experiencing today in these regions have brought to the forefront.


"The idea for this book came to me following the coincidence between the assassination of Jean Jaurès and the birth of my mother in Baccarat on July 31, 1914.
I relied on the words of my grandfather, a poilu during the Great War, then on the life of my parents, just married, in the complicated period between the two wars, and finally on my personal memories of the "der des der", because I was already six years old in 1940. I wanted to give a particular look at what life was like in Lorraine at that time, in the so-called "occupied zone".
Finally, having spent more than ten years in the Middle East, from the Maghreb to Turkey, through Libya, Lebanon and Syria, I have tried to offer an analysis of the geo-political situation of the events we are experiencing today in these regions.

"L'idèia d'aquest libre foguèt le coïncidència entre l'assassinat de Juan Jaurès e la naissanca de ma maire a Baccarat, lo meteis jorn valent-a-dire lo 31 de julhet de 1914. Me siàu apielat sus lei racontes de mon grand, pelos dau grand chaple puei sus lo viscut de mei gents, just maridats, dins lo periode dificil de l'entre-doas guèrras, enfin sus mei sovenirs personaus de la "der dei der", qu'aviâu sièis ans en 1940.
Ai vougut donar un agach sus ço qu'ère aquesta guèrra en Lorrena, dins la zona dicha "ocupada". Per acabar, aguent trevat, mai de dètz ans per mon mestier de capitani de la marina marchanda, totei lei pais dau Proche-Orient, dau Magrèb a Turquia, passant per Libia, Egipte, Liban e Siria, ai assajat de ne'n desgatjar une mena d'analisi de la situation puslèu geo-politica que leis eveniments que vivém ara, an mes au premier plan de l'actualitat."

Joan Saubrement.

In occitan from Provence, Preface by Jean-Claude Forêt.

Collection Memòris, IEO Edicions - IEO-CREO Provença.

The author:

Joan Saubrement was born in 1934 in Lorraine and died in 2015. President of CREO-Provença from 1997 to 2004, Delegate President of CREO from 2004 to 2008, Vice President of Col'Oc and Treasurer for Telev'Oc (Partnership with France 3 Méditerranée). He has already published "D'una mar, l'autra" at IEO Edicions, in the collection A Tots.

Extract:

Verai que, en defòra de l’escòla, èri totjorn en cò de l’un o de l’autre, siegue au jardin que mei grands l’i passavan d’oras e mai d’oras, siegue a regardar l’Enric refistolar una cadiera, ressolar de cauçaduras subretot dau temps de la guèrra. Aviáu un pichòt banc de bòsc qu’èra clafit dei clavèus qu’en jogant, leis aviáu plantats. Quand se ne’n trobava plus, mon grand èra ben astruc de se’n servir.
Lo vesi encara, coma s’èra ièr, amb son grand faudau e sei bericles plantats sus lo bot dau nas, quauquei pichòtei ponchas caladas entre sei labras que lei preniá puei delicadament una a cha una. Lo vesi tanben, après aver passat lo fieu dins la pega, prendre son alena e cordurar la semèla de son solier.

Translation:
"It's true that, outside of school, I was always at one or the other [grandfather's] house, either in the garden because they spent hours and hours there, or watching Henry patch up a chair, reseal shoes, especially from the wartime. I had a little wooden bench that was covered with the nails I had driven into it while playing. When we ran out, my grandfather was happy to use it.
"I can still see him, as if it were yesterday, with his big apron and his glasses stuck on the end of his nose, a few little points squeezed between his lips, which he would then take delicately one by one. I see him, too, when he had run the thread through the pitch, taking his awl and sewing the sole of his shoe."