FOUR VERSIONS OF A POEM: L’HOMME OR VII

Chedid once described herself as a "sculptor of words" when asked at what time of the day she prefers to write:  "I sculpt in the dark because we have so much darkness within us that I need the sun of the morning in order to get to the end of it" (Chedid International Colloquium,York University, Toronto, Canada, May 1995). Her words seem simple and clear at first, especially when composed in an uncomplicated syntax.  They seem almost transparent, like flowing water.  However, as Chedid, herself explains, these words have been worked and reworked countless times:

For poetry, since it's really a rough draft, it can be written whenever or wherever...even on a notebook or a piece of paper, then I go over it again, I rework a lot" (Accad, Evelyne.  "Profil d'une œuvre:  Andrée Chedid et l'écriture." Bahithat 2 (1995):  222).

In order to see exactly how Chedid as a "sculptor of words" produces her text, I will examine four versions of a poem, "L'Homme," or "VII," the last poem of the final section, "Territoires du silence" in Par delà les mots, published by Flammarion in 1995.

*Note of interest:   

This poem was first published in 1994 as part of an illustrated text, Territoires du silence, accompanied by original paintings of the Spanish-born painter, Leopoldo Novoa. Chedid told me that she saw Novoa's paintings before composing her poems. In the painting that accompanied this poem, "L'Homme," one sees what appears to be a leg with a foot in a sandy grey color that is "touching the ground."