Feast of all Saints: A Refreshing Fiction
I have been a fan of Anne Rice since I was twelve years old. I t was then that Lestat held me in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. And it is becuse of this experience that the name Rice has become synonymous with all things preternatural for me. Thus, I was shocked to find, when I began reading The Feast of all Saints that the novel contained no elements of the supernatural save for a few instances of spiritual awakening. I confess that I was a wee bit concerned that I wouldn’t like this more serious version of Ms. Rice. I was trepidatious – would this novel break my heart?
I’ve been reading it for ages. Not because it was hard to read but because I was worried I wouldn’t like it and I simply didn’t want to have to change my perception of the awe-inspiring Ms. Rice. Eventually, I summoned the strength and dove headlong into the creole world that lives within the pages of this book. Knowing virtually nothing about the gens de couleur libre, I made exciting and sometimes horrifying discoveries with every page.
This book is drastically different from The Vampire Chronicles - as it should be. Those books, along with a few others I’ve read by Rice, make comments on society and human nature often in a very subtle way. They gently whisper these ideas and the ideas become apparent after you’ve read them – they become intertwined and inseparable from the story and yet still vivid. With this book, Rice has taken a much more direct path. The ideas are very often literally, shouted at the reader by various characters. Revelations about racism and gender inequality are frequent and I found myself dog-earring many a page so that I might return to the passage to savour the intensity and eloquence of the words.
One particular outburst will stay with me for always. It doesn’t directly link to either racism or gender equality but touches a matter quite close to my heart – the importance of literature. When I first read this passage, I nearly shouted out loud: someone else was able to articulate just how I felt about the written word – the idea that it keeps the thoughts and ideas they embody alive forever, that books should be treated almost like living things. This is what Marcel had to say:
“My teacher, Monsieur De Latte … handles books as if they
were dead! …. My teacher believes in those books only
because they occupy space …. I want to know what’s inside
of them … what they actually mean. We forget all the time,
I think. that things are made, that this table was made by
someone for instance, with hammer and nails, and that
what’s in books was made by someone, someone flesh and
blood like ourselves wrote those lines, they were alive,
they might have gone this way or that with a
different word …. I think, Monsieur, people forget this …
I want to understand it, I want to … find some key (11).”
I’ve always found that the simple act of writing something down leaves part of you behind. As if the words imbibe part of your personality and if a reader really looks – a truth can be discovered. This was a profound moment in the text for me.
I think the other idea that I got from this book that was quite astonishing and startling was that some gens de couleur libre wanted to stay in North America, where the environment was not always in their favour and they did not have the same rights as their white counterparts. I guess, I had always thought – if there was an escape to a place where people would readily respect you, why not take it? But over and over it was reinforced that many of these people felt they had to stay for the future of their people. Who else was going to make the changes happen? This was startling because it was also such an obvious revelation. Of course they had to stay – if they hadn’t, where would we be now?
Social structure is hard to go against. Not just because others may oppose you and look down on you if you do, but also because some part of you must break and die before you are able. There was a profound sadness that surrounded each character in this book for this very reason. Cecile, Josette, Colette and Louisa because they didn’t let this happen; Anna Bella, Marie, Marcel, Christophe and Richard because they did. There are things to be admired from both perspectives and also much to be learned from all sides. I deeply appreciate, and am thankful for, the immense strength and many sacrifices of the gens de couleur.
There is so much more I could say about how this book affected me and changed me but I would need a vast space and eons of time to express those sentiments. Suffice to say that I finished this book on the third of April and it’s almost May third now. Normally, when I finish a book, the review is up the next day. This book had such a huge impact on me and my life that I had to take time to digest the ramifications before I was able to formulate the words. I believe this book should be used in high school classrooms to promote discussions about gender inequality and racism. I also believe that everybody, and I mean everybody, should read this book.