Voluntary exile

A new month and a somewhat different post. For as long as I can remember, I've had a big interest in books. Was it a form of escapism? Perhaps. I like the luxury of sitting comfortably and travelling places through the words of other people. In 2015 I went to my favourite local bookshop, then called La Librairie Internationale V.O. owned by Môn, to see who won the first Des Racines et des Mots award. I joined the group of readers for the next year. The group Les Amis de V.O. reads all year and selects books for the Longlist and Shortlist before a Jury decides which of the five books on the shortlist wins. I have been reading and selecting books somewhat regularly. This year I'd taken a break for personal reasons, but I definitely will be back among the readers next year.

The prize was awarded for the tenth time yesterday. The bookshop is still in business, albeit with a new owner, Camille, and under a slightly different name: La Nouvelle Librairie Internationale V.O. Despite the fact that I'd taken a break from reading, I decided I wanted to join to see who would win this year. It's José Vieira, for his book Souvenirs d'un futur radieux. It's the first book he wrote. Since it was the tenth edition of this prize, previous winners and nominees were invited to join. Among those present for most of the events were Eliane Serdan (2016), Maya Ombasic (2017), Carine Fernandez (2018), Yahia Belaskri (2019) Doan Bui (2022) and Sabine Huynh (2023), this year's winner José Vieira and nominee Abdelkrim Saifi. The events were organised by Les Amis de V.O. (Môn is the President of this wonderful Association), the Médiathèque Jean Lévy, the Musée de l'Hospice Comtesse, the Couvent des Dominicains, and many other partners, because a prize like this is possible thanks to the time, love and hard work put into it by many, many people.

A very interesting discussion about exile, language and roots this morning made me think of my own voluntary exile back in 2012. I left my country voluntarily because I'd found work in France and had fallen in love with the French language some years earlier. I never regretted my decision. In theory I could apply for French citizenship now. The discussion made me wonder about that. If France awarded me French citizenship, I'd have to give up my Dutch citizenship because the Netherlands only allow dual citizenship in very specific cases; sadly not in my case. Although I never regretted my decision to leave my country, there's some kind of nostalgia and a certain resistance to giving up my Dutch citizenship. It's like my country says: "You want to be French? Fine, but then you're not Dutch anymore." But I am. I was born in the Netherlands. I also feel French, because I came here soon after finishing my studies, built my life here, have friends here, work here, pay my taxes here and last year I was even baptised here. It's a subject I want to write more about. Maybe I'll write a book someday? Who knows. I was definitely inspired by all the people present today.

Yes, it was my decision to leave my country. No, it wasn't easy to make it work. Then what must it be like when you're forced to leave your country? I can only imagine and thanks to the imagination of others and my own imagination I felt safe throughout my life. I feel safe wherever there are books. I'd even go as far as saying I feel somewhat ill at ease when there are no books around. Book bans bother me. It only incites me to read those stories. Why are they banned nowadays? Why do governments get to decide what we read? Are they afraid? If so, of what? I'll let you think about that. In the meantime I encourage everyone to read, read, read.....