The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman: Denis Theriault

Image courtesy: Hesperus Press

I picked up “The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman” by Denis Theriault based on the recommendation of a friend. I am glad I did because I thoroughly enjoyed reading Bilodo the postman’s story. 

Theriault’s tale reminds me of some of the fantastical Russian short stories like Gogol’s “The Nose.” Realism and poetry mixed with a dash of the imaginary. It begins innocently enough, with Bilodo delivering mail and leading quite the ordinary life. He has a routine – deliver post, eat lunch at the Madelinot, deliver post, go home, watch TV and eat dinner. But afterwards was what Bilodo really looked forward to. Indulging in his “secret vice.” Reading other people’s letters. 

Bilodo’s life was enriched by following the stories that flew back and forth in these letters. There were “… letters from beer tasters comparing notes, from globetrotters writing to their mothers…overly reassuring letters servicemen dispatched from Afghanistan to their anxious wives…”

But it was the love letters that caught his fancy in particular. He even made a photocopy for his records and would keep them to reread over and over. It was one such letter that turned Bilodo’s life upside down.

Bilodo is instantly fascinated by Segolene’s intelligent haikus addressed to Grandpre, a poet.  And then one day Grandpre dies in a terrible accident. Segolene sends him letter after letter enquiring about the long silence. That’s when Bilodo decides to take matters into his own hands. He impersonates Grandpre and begins a long correspondence with Segolene, which takes him to the world of haikus, Japan and calligraphy. 

I absolutely loved the luminous and needless to say, poetic nature, of this book. Magical realism combined with the seductive fragrance of a romance that increasingly becomes more passionate keeps you turning pages. And the haikus. Some of them were simply brilliant. Segolene’s have a lush and luscious quality to them while Bilodo’s are more straightforward with a clear thought. Here are a couple of my favourites:

A hammering in the streets

Shutters are nailed down

The cyclone draws near

Nighttime out at sea

The shark yawns indolently,

Munches a moonfish

You can almost smell the rain in the first one and you can hear the waves in the sea in the second one. Even the prose is as evocative. 

“Still the cursed loop. The serpent bit its tail. Time cannibalized itself.”

I particularly liked the way Theriault shows Bilodo’s transformation. He comes alive, slipping completely into Grandpre’s skin, and immersing himself in Japan and poetry. It’s interesting to see how on one hand he gains control of haikus and loses control over himself on the other. As he grows closer to Segolene he goes farther away from reality.  

Theriault’s words are like dancing lights skimming the page. They glide over you and you can’t stop turning till you reach the last page. I generally don’t wax poetic in reviews but this one deserves it. Playful, masterful, emotional and with just a hint of the lugubrious, this is a beautiful, little novelette to be savoured. 

Verdict: One for the collection

Rating: 4.8/5