‘죽음’이 명사가 아니라 동사가 될 때 [.txt]

The term "death" can transform from a noun to a verb. In Simone de Beauvoir's work, "A Very Comfortable Death," death is a central theme woven through various pieces. Beauvoir examines death from a personal, social, and existential perspective in works such as "Everyman Dies," "Old Age," and "The Finality of Goodbye." However, "A Very Comfortable Death" stands out.

Unlike other works, this piece is written by a woman who is not a philosopher or intellectual, but rather a daughter observing her dying mother. Beauvoir admits, "I am grieving over someone I love." Who was this person? They were the mother who entered the author's body, embodying the entire life of an individual. Was this person the mother who gave birth to Beauvoir?

Beauvoir's mother and the woman who gave birth to her. This is a deeply personal grief. The reason this grief is so pressing is that all of us have lost or will lose a mother. But the resonance of this book goes beyond mere empathy. It contains the author's "experienced life," the time spent confronting a specific situation, which is imparted to the reader.

Going through someone else's loss makes the reader confront their own limitations. Yet, one question remains unanswered by the book's title, "A Very Comfortable Death." What does this mean? Is it a death that quickly passes after a painful moment? Or a death that arrives unnoticed? The answer is uncomfortable, as no one can say they were "comfortable" in their death.

Beauvoir viewed death as an event experienced by an individual, an unjust violence. Every person dies because of "something." It could be illness, accident, or old age. What could be less gentle than the cause of our existence? Thus, why do we add modifiers like "comfortable" to death? It is not for the dying. Only those who remain alive must understand and endure death.

Remove the modifiers, and what remains? I ask myself, what name would I like to hear? It is Françoise de Beauvoir. Françoise, Beauvoir's mother, underwent diagnosis, surgery, swelling, and fluid. As we turn the pages, we see a body that is increasingly damaged but still alive. The pain, the desire to stay alive, is palpable. Françoise endures painful injections, believing they are good for her.

She asks her daughter, "When will I be discharged?" She says, "I don't want to die." She adds, "It's hard to breathe." To me, this sounds like a desperate plea to breathe. Françoise wanted to cling to life until the end. In "A Very Comfortable Death," death is not a universal concept, but rather an individual journey. Beauvoir's grief reclaims the term "death," transforming it from a noun into a verb.

"mourir" is the process of an entity moving towards the end of life, and the author places the name of the mother at the beginning of this verb. This is a story of a woman reclaiming her name, the story of a daughter who gives life a larger meaning than death, and the story of one person reclaiming their life in the face of death.

Through Françoise's suffering and damaged body, we are reminded that we must yearn for life more than ever in the presence of death.