It's been a while since I've done one of these, huh? (I actually started on this one back in November, and just didn't get anywhere with it.) And, now that I've started in on this one, I've almost entirely lost the desire to finish it. But, don't worry, I will. These days, though, writing's been difficult for me; I have no drive, no ambition, no inspiration, no creative spark: I've mostly just been sort of shambling along, in mental stasis, functioning on a level of simple existential necessity. Now that all that preambling blah blah blah is out of the way, on to the Song of the Day!
One day at work, one of my co-workers asked me about my family—how many of us there were, where we were from, how long we'd been in Canada: that sort of thing; I started with the most recent immigrant to come to Canada in my family: my paternal great-grandfather Oskari: in the 10s of the 1900s. Which my co-worker found to be quite a loose definition of recent. I then continued to my mother's family, the Melansons... who have been in New Brunswick since, if I remember correctly (I'll check with Mom at some point for something more accurate/specific and get back to you), the 1700s. I know that Mom was born in the house her great-grandfather had built and that the house was included in a book about old Acadian houses in the Shediac area of NB. My co-worker was impressed, perhaps with a hint of incredulity; he told me, smiling proudly, that his son was the first member of his family (he had come to Canada with his parents and siblings 9 years ago [if I remember correctly]) who had been born in Canada.
This conversation led me to thinking about my heritage—what my Acadian-ness means—which, of course, led me back to this song, to which I was introduced by Gabrielle.
His voice. Man, this guy can sing! He has such a clear voice, a resounding alarum bell of a voice. There's such an emotional force to this song, which, I suppose, is a damnably obvious statement, given the subject matter. It's a fiercely Acadian song; a fiercely powerful reminder of heritage, of history, of remembrance. It is an indictment. It is swollen with indignation and intense love and anger and sadness. It is infused with a timelessness; it sounds aged and present, historic and contemporary.
It's difficult to write about this song—as I've discovered even more intensely since delving into this writing, this examination, the song on repeat in iTunes—as I feel too close to it, too personally connected to the song.
I've adopted it, appropriated it as my battle hymn of familial patriotism.
This version of the song is from his performance at Le Congrès Mondial Acadien (1994), which I find weaker than the studio version; though it does still maintain the heartfelt sincerity of the original, I find it lacks somewhat in the stripped bare and raw emotional intensity of the studio recording. It still stands as a strong monument to the Acadian people.
