Okay, Universe: Chronicles of a Woman in Politics
Okay, Universe: Chronicles of a Woman in Politics
So that’s the story. They’ve asked me to head the new p.r. department. It’s a big change, but I’m up for the challenge.
You’re going to be amazing, I know it. Not gonna lie, I’m a little jealous.
Oh, come on Simone! I thought you liked your job . . .
I do. The work is good, the benefits are great . . . But I’ve hit a plateau. I feel like I could be making more of a difference. I mean . . . we’d better hurry if we want to change the world!
Let’s drink to that!
Speaking of drinks, I’m going to get another bottle of wine from the cottage. Anything else?
It’s a weekend get-together at someone’s lakeside cottage in Ste Agathe-des-Monts, a town located in Les laurentides, the Laurentian Mountains north of Montreal. In the excerpt above, a group of friends are sitting around a campfire, catching up on each other’s lives. Simone Simoneau is at a career crossroads, ready to do something new, and after the call for drink refills, she heads out to the dock overlooking a lake. Sitting in quiet darkness, illuminated only by a full moon, she makes a decision: “Okay, universe . . . I’m ready for a new challenge.” (p. 13) This 102-page graphic novel, authored by Montréal’s mayor, Valérie Plante, and illustrated by Delphie Côté-Lacroix, is the story of Simone’s taking up that challenge.
As the story begins, a municipal election is upcoming in Montreal, and a political party named Action/Reaction Montréal has sought out Simone. The party is especially interested in recruiting female candidates, and Simone has extensive experience, having served in a variety of volunteer positions with women’s, immigrant, and environmental groups. During her interview at the party’s headquarters, she is asked to describe why she’d be a good choice of candidate. She thinks to herself, “Remember, Simone, in job interviews, men overestimate their qualifications by 30 percent and women underestimate theirs by 30 percent.” (p. 22) With that in mind, Simone offers the reasons why she’d be a good candidate, but when asked about her “contacts” – the people who might donate to the campaign – it seems as if she’s hit an obstacle. Still, a few weeks later, she gets a call back, and after being offered a candidacy in one of the downtown boroughs, she’s off on a mission: raising $5,000 for the campaign.
As a political newbie, Simone’s contacts are somewhat limited, and their finances even more so. Simone quickly understands why many male politicians come from the world of business or the legal profession where they have friends or colleagues with deep pockets. At a local block party, she sees the other party’s candidate surrounded by a team of volunteers and supporters, and, daunting though it is, she plunges into the crowd: shaking (sanitized) hands and introducing herself to total strangers. At the block party, Simone meets Mateo, a self-confessed politics nerd, interested in her election platform of “active transportation, more green spaces, quality of neighbourhood life” (p. 38), and he becomes the first member of the motley crew who make up her campaign team. Soon to be accompanied by Lucie (a student of political science and feminist studies), Pascal (a bike messenger), and Claude (an artist and activist), she and they devote countless hours to the endless grind of a political campaign: knocking on doors, putting up posters (often defaced with moustaches or obscene graffiti), and listening to the issues faced by the culturally diverse population living in the neighbourhood in which she is running.
As a student, Simone lived in the neighbourhood, but she is a parachute candidate, and some constituents are skeptical about her desire to green up the neighbourhood. As one shopkeeper puts it, “Listen, lady, you can build all the parks you want, but you better make sure that people can pay the rent, or else the kids in those parks will be going hungry.” (p. 56) A campaign visit at the home of Mme Lemieux, a long-time resident of the area, highlights the problems that come with urban gentrification: rents go up, and the stores which used to sell necessities like groceries are replaced by boutiques selling “soap, perfume, candy, lotions . . . nothing olive oil and lavender.” (p. 72) A male friend compliments Simone’s performance during an interview on Radio Canada and then comments to others, “Wouldn’t you like to have a pretty councillor for a change?” (p. 77)
Simone may be a “happy warrior”, but, after that remark, she’s speechless. Nevertheless, she brings significant advantages to her inaugural run: there’s Hugo, her supportive partner; her two daughters who remind her that she does everything with heart and sincerity; and the personal energy that a first-timer can summon up in the pursuit of a new goal. At the party’s final meeting before the election, she’s proud to acknowledge Action/Reaction’s active support for female candidates and to give credit to the volunteers who cover the field. Win or lose, every politician makes a “thanks to the team” speech, but Simone does so with genuine sincerity. When the big day finally arrives, the Action/Reaction party gathers at a theatre to watch the results roll in. It’s back and forth for a while, but Simone does win her seat on the city council, and the story ends as the sun rises on a new day in her universe.
Simone Simoneau is the alter ego of Valérie Plante, and undoubtedly, Mme Plante has brought much of her own experience to this tale of a woman’s foray into civic politics. Delphie Côté-Lacroix’s illustrations are simple but direct, rendered in a muted palette of blues, greys, neutrals, and, of course, green, Simone’s signature colour. Anyone new to the world of politics will face a myriad of challenges, but women face issues that men do not. Men typically don’t have the “what to wear?” dilemma, whether at an interview or on the campaign trail, and while their campaign posters may be defaced or graffittied, it’s usually not with epithets like “slut”. Simone is forthright in pointing out that female partners in a political marriage are often the ones to hold down the fort; she tells her mom that Hugo gets plenty of kudos for supporting his wife’s campaign, praise that would be deemed unnecessary for a woman because support is just expected. To her credit, Plante is non-polemical in her presentation of these issues, and, while every female candidate may not experience Simoneau’s first-time success, this story is a reminder that the race can be worth running.
I enjoyed Simone’s story although I believe that it has a rather limited audience amongst high school readers. It’s likely that young women with interest in political life, feminist issues and activism would find it an easy and enjoyable read. Also, this book is definitely urban in setting and, even in translation from French to English, it is very much situated in Montréal. Neighbourhood diversity, gentrification, active transportation, – these are issues faced primarily in established neighbourhoods in very large urban centres. I think that Okay, Universe: Chronicles of a Woman in Politics is a book that would find more readers in a public library collection, rather than a school library, and for that reason, I recommend it “with Reservations.”
Joanne Peters, a retired teacher-librarian, lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Treaty 1 Territory and Homeland of the Métis People