(Version français ci-dessus)
There's a certain time of night that I love in Paris. It comes just after sunset in the summer when the cool air starts slipping in and makes the clouds coagulate from a smooth blur into distinct outlines. Sometimes it's a darkly dramatically swirling sky against a mostly purple background as in Vincent van Gogh's paintings. At this time of night, the skyline, enveloping all the buildings and the people looking out or walking between, looks like a still life painting. Still life paintings always make me feel sentimental. Something about their detail yet distance allows the viewer emotional freedom to examine the picture more closely.9:21 p.m. It's my favorite time of night. The light is just leaving. I'm sitting at Au Depart, a café across from the Jardin Luxembourg. The café is quite deserted. A young, attractive female sits in the corner by the window, checking her SMS messages on her mobile. I wonder what it's like to be her - young, beautiful, with long blond hair and lots of people always pursuing you. Across from me sits a businessman, still in his business costume. He is eyeing me keenly. Maybe he is imagining what it's like to be me - a stranger, from a strange country, thinking strange thoughts as I watch strange people. The Eiffel Tower is lit up now, its lights twinkling in the dusk.
There's a languid feel in the air. People are moving toward their final destinations for the evening. It's the time of night when I most feel like an outsider - watching everyone else go "home". Home to their houses, family, friends. It's the time of night when I feel my aloneness most keenly. Sometimes I relish it; other times I feel its pang. I relish being detached and able to watch others voyeuristically, knowing I can stay outside and watch their nights progress. I am the one. I am everyone. I am whoever I want to be, whoever I choose to watch. I am free.
Paul Verlaine
Dans ses poèmes, "Chanson d'Automne," de 1866 et de "Romances sans Paroles" de 1874, Paul Verlaine a exprimé un type de langueur qui a existé 8 ans ou plus. Il exprimait un ennui de la vie. C'est intéressant parce qu'il avait pendant ce temps-là une celèbre, turbulente liaison avec le poète, Arthur Rimbaud. Paul Verlaine explique lui-même que son ennui venait de lui-même. Apparemment, de sa vie, c'est vrai.Comment Paul Verlaine exprimait sa langueur dans ses poèmes? Premièrement, il a utilisé le mot "langueur" pour décrire son coeur dans les premieres strophes des deux poèmes: "blessent mon coeur d'une langueur monotone..." et "quelle est cette langueur qui pénètre mon coeur?" Deuxièmenent, il a obtenu une longue, constante, langoureuse texture dans les deux poèmes. Le premiere poème est en dimètres qui coulent très vite usualement. Mais, son poème commence et se termine avec 6-vers strophes avec 3-vers strophes entre le debut et la fin. L'effet est celui d'un fil long tiré ou d'une note jouée. Le deuxième poème emploie les mots à plusieurs reprises sans chaque strophe: "pleure/pleut", "pluie", "raison", et "peine." L'effet et d'une bruine constante.
Je peux ètablir un rapport entre les sentiments qui vienne de la personne elle-même parce que j'ai eu une depression pendant 11 ans. Il n'y avait pas d'importance que j'ai eu bon travail ou j'ai eu petits amis ou j'étais engagée deux fois. Ma depression venait de moi-même. Comme Paul Verlain a dit, l'était "sans raison."
Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon coeur
D'une langeur
Monotone.
Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l'heure.
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure;
Et je m'en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m'emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.
de "Romances sans paroles"
Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon coeur?
Ô bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits!
Pour un coeur qui s'ennuie
Ô le chant de la pluie!
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce coeur qui s'écoeure.
Quoi! nulle trahison? ...
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C'est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon coeur a tant de peine!
La Vie des Cafés dans Paris (English version below)
Il y a un certain temps de nuit que j'aime à Paris. Il vient juste aprés le coucher du soleil en été quand l'air frais commence à glisser dedans les nuages et se les fait coaguler à partir d'une tache floue douce aux contours distincts. Parfois c'est un ciel obscurément tourbillonnant contre un milieu pour le plupart pourpre comme une peinture de Vincent van Gogh. À cet temps de nuit, puis le ciel enveloppe tous les bâtiments et personnes qui regardent dehors ou marchent entre, il semble une peinture de la vie immobile. Les peintures de la vie immobile me rendent toujours sentimental. Quelque chose sur leur détail et distance permet la visionneur la liberté des émotions d'examiner l'image plus approfondie.9:21 p.m. Il est mon temps favorit de nuit. La lumière vient de partir. Je m'assieds à Au Depart, un café enface du Jardin Luxembourg. Le café est presque abandonné. Une jeune, attirante femme s'assied dans le coin par la fenêtre, vérifiant ses messages de SMS sur son mobile. Je songe à que je sois elle - jeune, belle, avec de longs blonds cheveux et nombreaux de gens me poursuivent toujours. À travers de moi s'assied un homme d'affaires, toujours dans son costume d'affaires. Il me regarde profondément. Peut-être il imagine à qu'il soit moi - une étrangere, d'un pays étrange, pensant des pensées étranges sur les drôles gens qui j'observe. La tour d'Eiffel est maintenant allumée, ses lumières scintillent dans le crépuscule.
Il y a l'air de langeur. Les gens se déplacent vers leurs destinations finales. C'est la période de la nuit où j'ai le plus sensation d'être étranger - quand j'observe chacun autre va "chez soi". Chacun revient à sa maison, sa famille, leur amis. C'est la période de la nuit où je sens je suis tout seul le plus profondément. Parfois je le savoure; d'autres fois je sens sa douleur. Je savoure que je peux observer d'autres détaché et voyeuristiquement. Je sais que je peux rester dehors et observe leurs nuits progressent. Je suis celui. Je suis chacun. Je suis celui qui que je veux être, celui qui je choisis d'observer. Je suis libre.
Il est 4:25 p.m. - entre le petit café et le pastis, ou comme on dit entre chien et loup - un temps de vacance, de vide, de silence. Le patron a quitté la caisse, on l'entend besogner dans la réserve. Le grand garçon donne un coup de torchon, ou fume une cigarette, appuyé à la machine à café.
C'est le moment que choisit pour entrer le quincaillier voisin (ou le boucher (ou le coiffeur)). Il ne dit rien. Le grand garçon pose soigneusement son mégot sur le bout du comptoir et verse un ballon de rouge (un blanc sec (une biére)).
Sans un mot, le client d'aprés midi tient son verre à la main bien posé sur le zinc. Le tourne dans ses doigts. Observe sa couleur.
Il ne dit rien. Il ne pense pas. Il est libre. Léve alors son verre et le boit d'un trait. Jette le monnaie sur le comptoir, salue d'un mouvement de tête et s'en va.
Elections 2002 in Paris, France
I'm sure you've heard, the big deals in France these days are the elections. The 2002 Elections were the first time France faced a serious chance of a far-right extremist group gaining political power. This is the story. April 21 were the 1st round Presidential elections. In these, all presidential candidates ran. Since no one candidate got more than 50% of the vote, there was a run-off election on May 5. Surprisingly, Lionel Jospin of the Socialist party and the current prime minister came in 3rd behind Jacques Chirac for the Gaullist party and Jean-Marie Le Pen for the Front National party, FN. Le Pen raised national consternation because his following was unexpectedly strong, especially among the unemployed and in small towns with large immigrant populations (Le Pen got 38% of the unemployed vote and 26% of the blue collar vote in April). His shocking platform consisted of: taking France out of the EU, reverting the currency back from the Euro to the French franc (taking France out of the EC), and sending all foreigners out of the country. His message was that the reason for France's hardships were foreigners taking jobs and resources away from French people. He also made public anti-semitist comments and referred to the German 3rd Reich and the fact that one concentration camp was actually located within the borders of France as mere historic details.I had a sort of Rosa Parks experience on the metro where I felt these sentiments. I was mindlessly sitting down when I felt a thump of the seat, a strong hand push, and some loud French cursings. It was coming from an older, white, drunk (probably unemployed) French man who did not think an asian should sit down in the metro. I went to a different part of the car and sat down while he cursed at me from a distance. None of the onlookers interfered or showed any reaction to the incident.
So, the May 5 run-off presidential elections were to determine between Chirac or Le Pen for President of France. There was lots of consternation because France is historically a liberal country and if Chirac won, it would most likely be because many voters chose to vote for Chirac as a vote against Le Pen and it was uncertain what voters would do. Rumor was many leftists wanted to vote for Chirac with clothespins on their noses as signs of protest that they were forced to vote for someone they didn't want in order to keep someone else they really didn't want in office. (Kind of like our Gore/Bush election.) However, if they did so, voting authorities warned that they risked having their vote disqualified. France is a democratic country and takes their democracy very seriously. There is no electoral college as we have in the U.S. It is not allowed to show your voting preference at the polls, the reason being there should be no doubt everyone voted of their own volition.
Given this background, between the April 21 and May 5 elections, there were riots at the Bastille and marches between the Places Bastille and Republic. (Rightists traditionally march on the side of the street closest to Joan of Arc's statue in the Louvre pavillion, while leftists march on the opposite side of the street.) Leftists usually rally in the Place Bastille or Place Republique which are working class districts. Rightists usually rally near Pyramides which is in the haute shopping district. I also saw lots of rallies in the 5th where I live, the student section of Paris. May 1st saw 400,000 people take to the streets, blocking all traffic through the Bastille and Republic. Some people in the Place Republic got trapped by the crowds and couldn't get out either by car or by metro for 2 hours. After the May 1 show, Paris police ramped up.
The big day, May 5 arrived. I went to a voting station to see what it was like. It was very quiet and hardly crowded. I guess because voting's on Sunday, they don't get the crowds between 6-9 p.m. like we do in the U.S. from everybody trying to vote after work. Separate papers each showing the choice of one candidate are prepared ahead of time . Each voter is required to pick up one paper for each candidate and take them all into their booth. In the booth, they put the paper of their choice into an envelope, drop the envelope into a slot, and discard the rest in the recycling bin. That way, there's no chance of "punching" the wrong hole or punching their choice incompletely. (Remember our last election fiasco? The final hand-count in Florida now declares Gore won after all.) The French ballots are counted by hand by the election officials on site. Election results were televised at 8 p.m. that night. (How did they do that so fast? The voting station near me didn't close until 6 p.m.) Chirac won 82% of the popular vote based on a voter turn-out of 81%.
The day after elections is an implicit holiday (versus an official holiday. I noticed it because the student cafeteria was closed, but no had said anything about it). There was a sigh of relief that Le Pen and his FN party didn't get their 30%. However, the story's not over. Parliamentary elections happen in 2 rounds June 9 and 16, and it's still to be seen how many FN party legislators get elected to the National Assembly and what will be the final make-up of the Parliament. (The relationship President/Parliament is similar to our President/Congress. Also, the relationships Parliament/Senate/National Assembly are like our Congress/Senate/House of Representatives.)
George Sand - A Role Model
Here's a set of letters between George Sand (her pen name since women weren't accepted as writers then), and her lover Alfred de Musset. I almost hate to translate it, the message so cleverly hidden. But if you want, scroll to the bottom, to see my translation...
Lettre de George Sand à Alfred de Musset, l'été 1833:
Je suis très émue de vous dire que j'ai
bien compris l'autre soir que vous aviez
toujours une envie folle de me faire
danser. Je garde le souvenir de votre
baiser, et je voudrais bien que ce soit
bien compris l'autre soir que vous aviez
toujours une envie folle de me faire
danser. Je garde le souvenir de votre
baiser, et je voudrais bien que ce soit
là une preuve que je puisse être aimée
par vous. Je suis prête à vous montrer mon
affection toute désintéressée et sans cal-
cul, et si vous voulez me voir aussi
vous dévoiler sans artifice mon âme
toute nue, venez me faire une visite.
Nous causerons en amis, franchement.
Je vous prouverai que je suis la femme
sincère, capable de vous offrir l'affection
affection toute désintéressée et sans cal-
cul, et si vous voulez me voir aussi
vous dévoiler sans artifice mon âme
toute nue, venez me faire une visite.
Nous causerons en amis, franchement.
Je vous prouverai que je suis la femme
sincère, capable de vous offrir l'affection
la plus profonde comme la plus étroite
en amitié, en un mot la meilleure preuve
dont vous puissiez rêver, puisque votre
âme est libre. Pensez que la solitude où j'ha-
en amitié, en un mot la meilleure preuve
dont vous puissiez rêver, puisque votre
âme est libre. Pensez que la solitude où j'ha-
bite est bien longue, bien dure et souvent
difficile. Ainsi en y songeant j'ai l'âme
grosse. Accourrez donc vite et venez me la
faire oublier par l'amour où je veux me
mettre.
difficile. Ainsi en y songeant j'ai l'âme
grosse. Accourrez donc vite et venez me la
faire oublier par l'amour où je veux me
mettre.
Musset s'empressa de répondre :
Quand je mets à vos pieds un éternel hommage,
Voulez- vous qu'un instant je change de visage ?
Vous avez capturé les sentiments d'un cœur
Que pour vous adorer forma le Créateur.
Je vous chéris, amour, et ma plume en délire
Couche sur le papier ce que je n'ose dire.
Avec soin de mes vers lisez les premiers mots :
Vous saurez quel remède apporter à mes maux.
La réponse de Sand en imitant le rhythme de Musset:
Cette insigne faveur que votre cour réclame
Nuit à ma renommée et répugne mon âme.
[Les italiques et caractères gras sont les miens]
Voulez- vous qu'un instant je change de visage ?
Vous avez capturé les sentiments d'un cœur
Que pour vous adorer forma le Créateur.
Je vous chéris, amour, et ma plume en délire
Couche sur le papier ce que je n'ose dire.
Avec soin de mes vers lisez les premiers mots :
Vous saurez quel remède apporter à mes maux.
La réponse de Sand en imitant le rhythme de Musset:
Cette insigne faveur que votre cour réclame
Nuit à ma renommée et répugne mon âme.
[Les italiques et caractères gras sont les miens]
------English version-------
From George Sand to Alfred de Musset, summer 1833:
I am happy to tell you that I have
understood very well the other night that you had
always a crazy desire to make me
dance. I will keep the memory of your
kissing (in French also means fucking), and I would like that that should be
there a proof that I could be loved
by you. I am ready to show you my
affection in all neutrality and without cal-
culation (French word for "ass"),
and if you would like to see me as well
you unveil without any artifact my soul
completely naked, dignify me with your visit.
We resulted in friendship, honestly
I will show you that I am a woman
sincere and capable to offer you my affection
the deepest as the narrowest
friendship, in a word, the best wife
that you could dream of because your
soul is free. Think of the abandonment where the
bite is very long, hard and often very
difficult, in dreaming of that, I have a good and heart
big. Rush rapidly and come make me
forget. To the love that I would to you sub-
mit. (French word for "put out").
understood very well the other night that you had
always a crazy desire to make me
dance. I will keep the memory of your
kissing (in French also means fucking), and I would like that that should be
there a proof that I could be loved
by you. I am ready to show you my
affection in all neutrality and without cal-
culation (French word for "ass"),
and if you would like to see me as well
you unveil without any artifact my soul
completely naked, dignify me with your visit.
We resulted in friendship, honestly
I will show you that I am a woman
sincere and capable to offer you my affection
the deepest as the narrowest
friendship, in a word, the best wife
that you could dream of because your
soul is free. Think of the abandonment where the
bite is very long, hard and often very
difficult, in dreaming of that, I have a good and heart
big. Rush rapidly and come make me
forget. To the love that I would to you sub-
mit. (French word for "put out").
Musset's pressing reply:
When I put at your feet an eternal hommage,
Would you that in an instant I change my appearance?
You have captured the feelings of my heart
That for you to be adored the creator formed you.
I my dear, love, and my feather of delight
Sleep over the paper that I dare not mention.
With care to my verse read the first words:
You will know what remedy to bring to my words
Would you that in an instant I change my appearance?
You have captured the feelings of my heart
That for you to be adored the creator formed you.
I my dear, love, and my feather of delight
Sleep over the paper that I dare not mention.
With care to my verse read the first words:
You will know what remedy to bring to my words
George Sand adopting de Musset's rhythm:
This sign of favor taken from your court
Night to my reputation revulses my soul.
[Italics and bold mine]
This sign of favor taken from your court
Night to my reputation revulses my soul.
[Italics and bold mine]