I am usually not a big fan of book reviews. The ones to read, or to write. For me, it feels like a pleonasm (adding words to an artform that should speak for itself), or a futile attempt to make a reader feel something that should rather be directly experienced.
But for one book that I recently had the pleasure to read, I felt compelled to share my whole sensory-emotional perspective upon entering the universe of its author. I am not really reviewing the book as much as processing my felt experience of it. I couldn’t go to sleep without finishing the last chapters. I have been in complete awe of this first-time author’s ability to transform his life after the hardships he endured.
Gabriel Nadeau is a French-Canadian author and LGBTQIA+ advocate. The original version of Exorcisé: Sortez-moi de moi [Exorcised ("Mom, I'm Gay!")], a 2024 memoir that is also Gabriel’s first publication, is in French, and he is working on an English translation at the moment. I think many of you will find doors to enlightenment within the pages of Gabriel’s story. Some of his experiences might resonate with you, and perhaps break a sense of aloneness.
Curiosity, admiration, and solidarity are what led me to buy Gabriel’s book three months after its publication (the morning of its release, it was already sold out on Amazon, so I had to wait until I traveled to Quebec to find a bookstore that had it in stock). Without revealing too much about the book, let me say: for someone who claims to not like reading or writing—this someone being Gabriel— I find his book to be narrated in an exceptionally skillful way. I wish I could be good at things I don’t like, too! It was meaningful to obtain the book on December 30th, as a ritual for the 13th and last New Moon of 2024, and right before starting 2025.
The next day, I got the author’s autograph—because we spent New Year’s Eve together. Gabriel is not any celebrity. I have known him since his infancy. Because Gabriel is a beloved cousin.
And on January 1st, I began reading Gabriel’s offering to our world during my layover in Dallas. I was enraptured during the flight. There was something elevating about the story, one of survival. A gifted boy, Gabriel’s gender fluidity and androgynous traits were shamed and condemned when he was growing up. I had heard the story in bits and pieces over the years. But this time, it was enlightening to hear it approached in such a cohesive way.
Gabriel, a ballet prodigy, beautifully calls what I consider the highest form of art “poetry of the body.” His whole being is pure poetry, I recall thinking later. His journey is a succession of enactments by various archetypes: victim, orphan, wanderer, creator, magician. Gabriel suffered his parents’ acrimonious divorce, their religious radicalization (and the shaming of normal sexuality that came with it), panic attacks, a benign tumor in his arm, and bullying at a highly reputable ballet academy, before giving up ballet to dedicate his life to becoming a preacher.
Because his homosexuality was conceptualized as the demon, Gabriel was subjected to three exorcisms in adolescence at the Pentecostal church his mother took him to. He fasted and committed himself to middle-of-the-night Bible-reading sessions, but also suffered from bedwetting until he was able to stop it through his own willpower at age 18. One winter, he was even kicked out of his home after his mother found (and burnt!) a Harry Potter book. But during all of this torment, there remained a background passion for all of life and intense sensitivity to music, to the point that for Gabriel, these became mystical experiences...
Having cycled through deep sadness, compassion, endearment, fascination, admiration, I was almost done with Gabriel’s memoir when the plane landed. And I immediately cried, feeling like I was back in (harsh) reality. Knowing that, in a way, I will no longer be the same after having been that close to someone else’s suffering.
Since Gabriel is someone I know deeply and love dearly, I can attest to the veracity of many elements of this book, including his effervescent childhood. I was about 20 when Gabriel was born. I remember cuddling with him and his two brothers, playing with them and marveling as I witnessed their development, finding them exceptionally gifted as I compared their milestones to the freshly-learned concepts from my child psychology textbooks. But my cousins and I lost sight of each other once I married and moved to the USA. The exorcisms, which I had no idea had happened, took place while I was busy as a new mom, having my own children. This is the part that saddens me. I wasn’t there. I wish I had known.
About 10 years ago, we saw each other for the first time in over a decade at a New Year’s Eve party at my dad’s. My three sons and their dad were also there. I don’t think I had seen Gabriel since my wedding. That night, he joined the party with his two brothers and his mom. I was struck by his magnetic exuberance, his high-pitched, contagious laughter. Then he came to my mom’s to spend the night, and we continued to talk and laugh until late. I was truly impressed with him, with who he had become. He was so kind, warm, sophisticated and funny. He shared details about his journey as a gay man.
After that reconnection, we remained in touch and became very close. Every time I go to Quebec, we arrange to see each other and celebrate with fanfare, whether enjoying a milestone birthday with a themed outfit, or going to Les Grands Ballets Canadiens to enjoy a performance of Nutcracker, which he was part of as a child. He even visited me just this year. His presence was pure light and joy in my home. There was something about our moments together that felt bigger than life, and it took me many days to absorb all the awe my soul had been swimming in.
I am deeply grateful for Gabriel. Life is more beautiful with people like him in it. His story and mine have similarities, despite our age and gender differences. He teaches me why loving ourselves fully as we are is so important. He has learned to accept himself, love himself, and be proud of his whole being. And love is not a zero-sum game. He is living proof of that truth. The more he loves himself, the more he loves life and other people. I see it and I feel it. I cannot think of someone more filled with love and compassion than Gabriel. He inspires me to be a better person, every day. I am immensely proud to have him in my life.
May everyone who is currently struggling meet someone like Gabriel. As I mentioned in my blog* (to immortalize his delightful visit), he is an amusement park, a spa, a psychotherapy session, and a musical combined! Among my large chosen family, he is probably the person who is closest to the divine, and therefore, to his true essence. Gabriel reminds us of the core of us, because divine is what we all fundamentally are.
