Dr. Barberet is professor of humanities at Polk State College in Lakeland, Florida.
Let us admit right away that it is (in a sense) a bit difficult to grieve and mourn the death of a one-hundred-year-old man—father, husband, grandfather, uncle, professor, mentor, neighbor, colleague, cook, gardener, swimmer, biker, and benefactor.
Not that we do not grieve of course.
But the fact that such an extraordinary man lived such a full, generous, and active life should fill us with DELIGHT at his accomplishments, and PRIDE that we all got to know and love him—and continue to be inspired by him.
Gene was strongly influenced by his older sisters—Marie, Madeleine, Evelyne, Julienne, Aliette—who out-numbered his two brothers Jules and Maurice (Morris). Perhaps for this reason, Gene [whose original name was Jean, until he had it legally changed to the American English male homonym Gene] never displayed what is now called “toxic masculinity” nor any form of “machismo” … although he was always debonair and impeccably dressed.
His older sisters used to call him “bunny.” In fact, there is a photo of him taken in France of Gene dressed in a bunny costume during a party. So, I’m not sure if these two things are related, but one thing is sure: Gene would be the first to make fun of himself. You get to know yourself very well when you have lived a long and full life.
Yes, he was a great conversationalist, who would rather talk about YOU than about himself. [Some called this “the “Socratic method”; others, like my wife Leigh, called it “the Great Interrogation.”]
Yet he was in a very important sense, a private person. He was deeply religious and was quite active in this very building, as Father Richard noted. He sang loudly in church, and he prayed loudly at night, with his hands over his face. We could hear him sometimes. He always prayed for John F. Kennedy and then later for June Gilliam.
If y’all are physically inside Saint Thomas Aquinas right now, believe me when I say that I can remember every sight, smell, alcove, balcony, sacristy, dressing room, rectory, and the basement below you, with its stage. I served as altar boy there for 5 years, although Gene was there before me and after I left Storrs.
Are there still little white stars set against a light blue sky on the ceiling above you? I’ll bet Gene’s DNA is stuck on there somewhere.
Are the twelve stations of the cross still (oddly?) portrayed showing only Christ’s feet? One day my therapist and I will broach this subject.
But not today. Today we celebrate Gene’s life, and mourn the obvious fact that so few today are like him: a teacher’s teacher, a friend’s friend, a devoted husband, a wise and informed snail-mail correspondent [forget email, it just didn’t happen with him despite some attempts], a convivial host of the French-language discussion group Les Causeries, and a beloved father, grandfather, and uncle to his adoring nieces and nephews.
Gene gave me a fine bi-lingual dictionary when I set off for graduate school in 1981. On the frontispiece he wrote “Cherche! Il faut toujours chercher” (Search! One should always search.)
This is a key motto of Gene’s: search—but do not expect to find. Linguistically, he is saying that the verb “to search” is an intransitive verb, with no object, sufficient unto itself. As if the soul is in a constant state of searching and employs every one of the gifts granted it to continue to search: for new knowledge, for self-knowledge, for growth, for an extension of the self into the universe with the help of others.
In this universe of ours, some of us enjoy sunrises, while others (like le Petit Prince in the adult children’s tale by Antoine de St-Exupéry) enjoy the melancholy spectacle of sunsets.
Now that the sun is setting on Gene’s long life, let us partake in this melancholy, guided by the poet Charles Baudelaire. This poem [“Recueillement,” often translated as “Meditation”], one of Gene’s favorites, asks us to meditate, to reflect, and to LISTEN to the soft approach of the gentle night, which will envelop us all.
Calm down, my Sorrow, we must move with care.
You called for evening; it descends, it’s here.
The town is coffined in its atmosphere,
bringing relief to some, to others care.
Now while the common multitude strips bare,
feels pleasure's cat o’ nine tails on its back,
and fights off anguish at the great bazaar,
give me your hand, my Sorrow. Let’s stand back;
back from these people! Look, the dead years dressed
in old clothes crowd the balconies of the sky.
Regret emerges smiling from the sea,
the sick sun slumbers underneath an arch,
and like a shroud strung out from east to west,
listen, my Dearest, hear the sweet night march!
— Robert Lowell, from Marthiel & Jackson Matthews, eds., The Flowers of Evil (NY: New Directions, 1963)
https://fleursdumal.org/poem/321 • N.B. any remarks in [..] are ex post facto.
Gene Barberet of Storrs, Connecticut, was the youngest of eight children. His parents, Jules and Louise Barberet, had emigrated in 1911 from their home in Alsace, France. Gene attended Clark University and earned a bachelor’s degree in French in 1941. His studies were interrupted by World War II, when he served with the Air Force in Assam Province, India, working at a support job for the Air Transport Command in the Hump Operation. After the war, he completed his master’s and doctoral degrees in French literature at Princeton University in 1948 and 1951, respectively. A specialist in 20th-century French literature, Professor Barberet joined the faculty at the University of Connecticut in 1949, spending his entire academic career at UCONN in the Department of Modern and Classical Languages. He directed the university’s study-abroad program in Rouen, France, for two years during the late 1960s and once again in 1981-82. In 1956, Gene married Audrey Havican; they have a son John and daughter Rosemary and four grandsons. Audrey received her master of arts degree in French at UCONN and accompanied Gene on his three study-abroad trips to France. A lifelong Democrat, Audrey gave more than twenty-five years of service to the League of Women Voters and the Town of Mansfield, including a term as mayor from 1975 to 1977. Gene Barberet retired in 1990 after forty years of service, teaching an estimated 3,500 students. In retirement, Gene initiated the Causeries en français, a weekly conversation circle in French, at the Mansfield Senior Center, where he made many friends. On January 11, 2020, family, friends and colleagues celebrated Gene’s 100th birthday at UCONN.
Sadly, Dr. Barberet succumbed to Covid-19 on January 11, 2021. Remarkably, it was his 101st birthday. His warmth, intellect and admirable character will continue to inspire all who knew him.
A memorial is planned for summer or fall. If you would like to honor Gene, the family would appreciate an unexpected act of kindness for someone in Gene’s memory. Donations are always welcome for the Gene J. Barberet and B. June Gilliam Scholarship Fund (for students majoring in French) or the Dr. Gene J. Barberet Fund (for study abroad in France). Please make checks payable to: The UCONN Foundation, Inc., and send to: UCONN Foundation, 2390 Alumni Drive Unit 3206, Storrs, Connecticut 06269.