Structured like a kaleidoscope of short scenes, Morte Rose tackles the theme of death head-on with humor, tenderness, and poetry, in a unique and inventive style. Through this work, the author pays tribute to all the grandmothers in the world.
Rose is a grandmother. Zoé’s grandmother. And she has just died. Zoé then begins a grieving process filled with emotion, absurdity, and surprises. As her world reels, she seeks to preserve the traces of the woman who left such a deep mark on her: her voice, her gestures, her belongings, her memories. She also recalls how, in a not-so-distant past, they tried to come to terms with death together. Through fragmented memories, Zoé revisits their incredible journey, their visits to funeral homes, their laughter, their bickering, their peeing in unison, and their unique way of facing the inevitable with refreshing boldness. But beyond their improbable escapades, it is their deep bond that is revealed: two vibrant women, united in their quest to tame the inevitable, with their disarming humanity as their only weapon.
After journeying with them through these moments that are both dramatic and candid, bittersweet and tender, we close Morte Rose with a wry smile, our hearts moved by the mark left by these lives too grand to fade away.
From14 years old
Finalist - 2026 Espiègle Award - 12-17 ans
The novel's main themes explained by Sarah Lalonde (publisher's website - translated from French)
Coming to Terms with Death
For me, death has often evoked two very different feelings: fascination and fear. I have memories of myself as a child pretending to play dead in the window of my mother’s office. Memories of myself thinking about the deaths of my loved ones, which would put me in emotional states that were, to say the least, peculiar. Memories of myself almost obsessively imagining the final moments of the people I see passing away on my social media feeds.
When my father recently nearly died following a heart attack, two questions arose: can I come to terms with death better, and if so, how? It was therefore the right time to go and meet the Grim Reaper. First through reading, then through writing this book, which allowed me to broaden my horizons. This story served as an excellent excuse to chat with a former thanatologist, a palliative care volunteer, a friend who had had a near-death experience, and a funeral ritual facilitator. I invented a character who came to terms with death, and, at the same time, I was doing much the same thing myself.
My Grandmothers and Grief
My grandmothers have been gone for several years now. One in 2009, the other in 2011. At the time of their deaths, I can’t say for sure if I truly grieved in a way that matched the love I felt for them. I just didn’t know how, I suppose.
This book is part of my grieving process, like a very personal ritual fifteen years later (what can I say?! I like to take my time). But isn’t it lovely to realize how grief is never truly over, how it transforms and takes on different forms?
Toward the end of her life, my paternal grandmother had said to my father, “When I die, don’t do anything!” That had made an impression on me. I realize now that rituals are not so much for the dead as for the living. And that rituals, like grief, are important stages that deserve our full attention.
Beans (spoiler alert – read this section only after you’ve finished the book!)
In the story, there are passages that mention beans. As an amateur gardener, I’ve discovered a multitude of bean varieties, each more beautiful and poetic than the last. Take the time to look at them: they’re little masterpieces of nature.
Intuitively, because I like them in real life, they also found their way into my imagination. And, as I was reading yet another book about death while finishing writing *Morte Rose*, I was stunned to learn that beans symbolized death in ancient Rome. What-what!?! That’s crazy! So I added a passage about it at the very last minute before putting the final period on this novel.
