Lucien Perrin was born in Milly on November 25, 1911.
In his family, blindness is passed down from father to son—a hereditary condition that only affects the men. They’re not born blind, they become so. The sight problems begin in infancy and, for generations, not one of them has seen the flames of his twenty candles dancing on his birthday cake.
Lucien’s father, Étienne Perrin, met his wife Emma when she was still but a child. He knew her when he could still see. But, little by little, Emma disappeared from his field of vision, as if a veil of mist had settled over her face. He loves her from memory.
Étienne tried everything to save his eyes. He poured all sorts into them: elixirs, spring water from France and beyond, magic powders, infusions of nettles and chamomile, rose and cornflower water, iced water, warm water, salt, tea, holy water.
Lucien was born by accident. His father didn’t want to have children. He didn’t want to risk perpetuating the curse. And when he learned that it was a son, not a daughter, who had just been born, he was in despair.
Emma describes the child to him: black hair and big blue eyes.
In the Perrin family, no one has ever had blue eyes. At birth, they are black. The pupil can’t be distinguished from the iris. Then, as the years go by, they lighten, ending up gray, like unrefined salt.
Étienne starts to hope that Lucien’s blue eyes will protect him from the curse.
Just like his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, Étienne is an organist and organ tuner. He is called upon to play Johann Sebastian Bach at church services, and also to tune the region’s organs.
In addition, on weekdays, Étienne teaches Braille. His books are made by a first cousin, himself visually impaired, in a small workshop in Paris’s fifth arrondissement.
One morning in 1923, Emma leaves Étienne. He doesn’t hear her closing the door, very gently, behind her. He’s busy with a pupil. Nor does he hear the voice of the man who is waiting for his wife on the sidewalk opposite. But Lucien does see her leave.
He doesn’t try to stop his mother. He thinks that she’ll be back later. That, understandably, she’s gone for a drive in the gentleman’s fine car. That his father could never offer her such an outing. That she surely has the right to have a little fun.