In the middle of July, Clémence travels with her partner and three children to a cabin in the woods in Gore, a village in the Lower Laurentians. She knows that she will soon lose the baby she conceived a little over two months ago. A few days earlier, she received confirmation that the baby's heart had stopped beating.
On the night of the 10th to the 11th, while her family sleeps upstairs, she gives birth to a bubble of water, alone. All she has with her is a television with the sound turned off, a candle, and a worn copy of Les Filles de Caleb, found there by chance.
Reading interrupted by contractions. The daughters of Caleb fall apart, in a jumble of words. It is from these very crumbs that the poems are composed. Here is the distillation of an extreme experience, of a night when boundaries are torn apart. Filles de Gore is a book of broken poems. Then there is the next morning, with “three living children standing upright.”