Francofile

The French are so-o-o-o rude!

I have heard versions of this remark snarled, whined, and growled so many times, it's a wonder I ever dared to venture onto French territory. An article I came across today cites a poll showing that the French are viewed by the British as the rudest, most unfriendly nation on earth. If English speakers overwhelmingly believe this to be the case, there must be some truth to it, non?

To those who believe for all the world that the French are insufferably rude (and probably not many among my readership are included in this number) , I offer what I have learned over many long and short visits to France. Call this little course How not to get treated badly in France 101.

Most of us in the US think of Japan as a culture of politeness. We understand that there are rituals of politeness that one would be remiss to ignore as a visitor in Japan. What we often overlook is that France could also be considered a culture of politeness. Polite rituals and codified formulas of politeness are deeply imbedded in French society, especially when it comes to interactions among strangers, be they French or foreign.

The US, in contrast, is a more casual culture. We tend to appreciate simplicity and what we would consider a lack of pretension. Years ago my father expressed disapproval at my landlord, to whom I referred as Mr. Gordon. He thought Mr. Gordon must have ego problems to insist on being called Mister. Except for my years in a southern state, I have heard very few Ma'am's and Sir's in the US. In France, titles are used much more frequently. It's sometimes hard for us casual folk to adapt to that. But if we well-meaning, informal Americans go to France and behave according to US standards, we do in fact come across as too abrupt and, well--rude. So if we are unwittingly rude because we didn't bother to find out what the norms are in France, why would French people go out of their way to be polite to our rude selves??

Most people presumably know that as the visitor in a foreign country, the onus is on the visitor to learn what is considered proper there and to act accordingly so that one does not embarrass oneself and one's compatriots. When we are chez les Francais, it makes sense to use the polite expressions that they use among themselves, or the English equivalent.

One American asked me why, when she went up to a French woman and asked for directions, the French woman started beating her with her purse. I told her that I was sorry that happened to her, but that the French woman must have simply been flat-out crazy. One could have the misfortune in any country to approach a lunatic, even with exquisite politeness, and to be flagellated with a handbag, I suppose. But by far the more common outcome is that if you make a polite and respectful approach, which might even seem exaggeratedly polite to an American, you are likely to be pointed in the right direction and perhaps even escorted to your destination.

So before the quiz over this mini-course, get a phrasebook and memorize (using the awful phonetic pronunciation guides if need be) a few of the polite expressions for approaching a stranger for information or for service in a place of business. Do NOT edit out the titles and seemingly excessive politeness. You will be treated with respect and hospitality, unless of course you are unfortunate enough to stumble across that French woman who likes to bludgeon American tourists with her handbag. If that happens, I'm sorry, but you're on your own.

Superfrenchie to the Rescue

I never envisioned myself recommending that my readers or anyone else watch Fox News.  The last time I watched it was about two years ago when we had a neo-conservative house guest (an old high school friend of my husband's) and we tried to do a comparison of the integrity of the McNeil-Lehrer News Hour and the "No-Spin Zone."  We have not seen or heard from him since, as factual reporting was not his cup of tea. 

However, it will be interesting, if you are able to tune in from where you live, to watch the O'Reilly show this Wednesday evening.  Superfrenchie of the blog by that name and Marc Cormier of http://miquelon.org are invited to talk about France-bashing and the Subway ad campaign promoting a chicken sandwich that equated the French with chickens.  Of course they will be on Fox turf and the editing advantage will be skewed in favor of O'Reilly's perspective.  There is a flurry of chatter on Superfrenchie's blog about how this might play out.  They may be set up, but they deserve credit for taking positive action to correct some of the mischaracterizations out there about France.  Bon courage, Suprfrenchie.  You will be a worthy representative of the "real" France.

Top Eight Reasons Why French People Know I'm Not French

I am not the stereotypical American in France, whatever that is.  But there are a few clues that can quickly identify me as a foreigner.

1. My Accessories   I have learned a thing or two about accessorizing from living in the land where high fashion was invented.  However, the ability to drape a scarf "just so" has not rubbed off.  Must be genetic.  Sigh.

2.  My Face   I can mimic the Parisian poker face, but can't sustain it for long periods.  Eventually I lose it and feel I become almost buffoonishly animated compared with the ever-so-discreet French.

3.  My Name   My first name is common in France--but among men.  I have to say:  It's "Jean" (djin) "comme Jean Seberg" (the actress who played opposite Belmondo in Au Bout de souffle) and then they get it.   

4.  My Table Manners    I hold my fork upside down, from the French perspective.  (They often hold theirs with the tines curving downward.) I don't efficiently cut up and consume my food as soon as it is served as they tend to. 

5.  My Conversation   I don't tend to be that analytical and critical when it comes to everyday conversation.  This probably makes me boring and bland to French people, who often like their conversation leavened with a bit of dissonance.

6.  My Intonation    After years of work, my grammar and vocabulary in French are solid.  I have trounced educated French Scrabble players, to their displeasure.  But when I am fatigued, the rhythm and music of the language can become a bit off-kilter in a not very pretty sort of way. 

7.  My Height   I am as tall as an NBA center.  This is an exaggeration, but to many a French person, it might as well be true.  Mothers point us out to their children as my husband and I walk down the street: "Regarde ces grands gens!"  (Look at those tall people!)

8.  My Shoes   My shoes are rarely Made in France.  As a corollary to #7,  my feet are often too big for the dainty French pointures.  (Mind you, my feet ARE proportionate to my height.)

I have worked long and hard to feel at home in France, but don't mind not readily passing for French.  I enjoy the fact that my origins are at least a little bit mysterious to new French people I meet.  And I love the French "mystique" just the way it is.   

The Sky Is Falling–Or Is It?

Geoffrey Wheatcroft, a British journalist, is following the progress of this summer’s Tour de France. On July 3 the Boston Globe published his article Liberté, Fraternité, Morosité. He writes: If you wander around France this summer, you find a country obsessed with its own woes, its future, and its very identity. Not long ago, France had a hang-up about America. Now, France has a hang-up about France. He goes on to correlate the lack of a great French cycling champion since Bernard Hinault to a general descent of the French people into a paralyzing "morosité." He continues: No recent event has made the morosité clearer than the referendum held on the last Sunday of May to approve or reject the wonderfully grandiloquent European Constitution. Rejected it was, with a non so loud, and on such a large turn-out, as to call into question the whole political culture and stability of the country. (my emphasis)  To Wheatcroft’s credit , he has actually spent time in France, unlike many commentators and pseudo-journalists who write of France's impending national decline. However, with the hyperbolic conclusion he draws, one has to wonder how well he really understands French culture. Would the French love to see the maillot jaune worn by a Frenchman? Of course. Are they depressed because the current star of the cycling universe is American? Not at all. Lance Armstrong may well be one of the greatest athletes of all time, and French people I speak with think he is an inspirational figure who is good for the sport. What is good for cycling is also good for France.  They note with some pride that Armstrong has chosen to do a good deal of his training in their country. Anglophones are sometimes stung by French criticism of their cultures. Jacques Chirac, the currently rather unpopular French president, recently said that today's British economic success is not based on a model that the French should envy. What Anglophones should realize is that the French do not reserve their criticism for Anglo-Saxon cultures. Far from being self-aggrandizing, the French tend to regularly turn their "esprit critique" against themselves. This must be what Wheatcroft interprets as their "morosité."  Remember how Voltaire ridiculed optimism in his novella Candide in the 18th century?  It has never been rehabilitated.  It is generally not in the French make-up to be particularly optimistic.  France's highly-educated population is constantly in the throes of a dilemma outlined by the essayist Montaigne. In the tradition of the Classical philosophers, he wrote about the need for balance between the active life and the contemplative life. Montaigne himself was engaged in public life in addition to being a writer, so he wrote from first-hand experience. Whereas American culture has been unapologetic about promoting the active life while treating intellectual endeavor with suspicion, France has always valued reflection and inquiry, sometimes at the expense of action. Each culture could learn something from the other. Now back to Wheatcroft’s thesis that France is spiraling uncontrollably into an abyss of demoralization.  Geoffrey, don't you worry.  France will continue to evolve and adapt, by measured steps, with or without a Tour de France champ.  The French people have faced much worse adversity than they are currently facing.  News stories about France that have a negative slant have become a staple for many US and British journalists and commentators of late. As an American of British ancestry who has spent a few years in France, I wonder why some feel that this makes for better reading than a piece that portrays France in its wonderful complexity and without the selective filter of Anglo-Saxon triumphalism.  Deep down, are we struggling with a fear that maybe we have conceded a wee bit too much of our dignity?  Might there be a gnawing doubt underlying all this that maybe the French really do live better than we do, and that they have been right all along?

What's in a Smile?

I have been asked dozens of times why the French are rude and why they are haughty.  Since I don't see either of these generalizations as being true, my answer often includes a comparison of smiling habits in US and French culture.  When one smiles and how one reacts to a smile are largely unconscious, so it's not something we tend to be aware of, even though we are emotionally affected by it.

Polly Platt wrote on the French reluctance to smile in her book "French or Foe" a few years back.  French people were shown a picture of former President Mitterand.  Although he had been president for 14 years, they could not identify the man in the photo.  The reason? He was smiling, and they had seen his smile so rarely during his long presidency that he was unrecognizable with a grin on his face. 

If you smile, and it's not for a specific reason, you don't look serious.  In France, even if you are not the president, it is important to appear serious.  Some instances in which one can smile without appearing to be an idiot are: responding to a joke or humorous situation; responding to a joyous event, i.e. France winning the World Cup; and flirting.   

A French person will not smile at you unless they find you humorous or are flirting with you.  Similarly, if you smile for no apparent reason, you may be perceived as insincere, naive, patronizing, or foolish.  Getting over the expectation of receiving a smile is not so hard.  But deprogramming your own smile reflex may take some effort.

In US culture the absence of a smile can feel like an affront.  Chiho, a Japanese student who traveled to France last summer, felt rebuffed when French people did not respond to her when she smiled at them.  Then she realized that this should be normal to her, since she had grown up Japan, where one ignores passers-by in the street.  After three years in small-town USA, she had become conditioned to smile and to expect reciprocation.

Along with franglais and fast food, the unmotivated smile may be making inroads into French habits.  French students I meet tend to fall into one of two categories: "Francais pur et dur" or "global citizen."  Franck is somewhat reserved and smiles only "for cause."  He embraces travel abroad, but gravitates to elements of French culture, such as French films and the classic French chanson, when given a choice.  Fabrice is extroverted and smiles spontaneously.  He becomes immersed in the host culture wherever he travels.  My observation is that with the globalization of culture, there are fewer and fewer Francks and more and more Fabrices.  Maybe the Franco-American smile differential will diminish with increasing globalization.

France and the Dreaded Fonctionnaire

I was reading a post today by Flare called "Had a run-in with a fonctionnaire today . . .and I lost." Flare is an American working in Paris, by all appearances making a good-faith effort to abide by the rules. (See her blog http://putyourflareon.blogs.com/putyourflareon/) Her tale brought back a torrent of memories. Now that my gallophilic credentials are well established, I can permit myself to vent about an old bete noire . . .

When I first experienced the passive-aggressive behavior of French bureaucrats, I was convinced that I just needed to learn how to get on their good side. Decades later, I now understand that there is no formula for success. There are no tricks I can teach my students to help them avoid the teeth-gnashing, gut-roiling frustration of being stonewalled by people who refuse to do the job for which they are paid. All the worst aspects of French culture seem to be toxically concentrated and eternally encrusted in this effete sector. I have considered appealing to President Chirac himself, in hopes that he could target this entrenched problem for reform. In anger, I have occasionally sworn that henceforth I would travel only to Quebec–never again to France. Coming from a starry-eyed francophile like myself, that is harsh. Way harsh. But I meant it.

One of many incidents involved my breaking into tears (a rare occurrence for moi) on the third préfecture visit in as many days. I had become the projectile in a game of ping-pong between the préfecture of the 14^th arrondissement and the préfecture on the Ile de la Cité. Each insisted that the other was responsible for amending a carte de séjour (long-stay visa) that (mistakenly) didn’t allow any foreign travel. This was a legitimate request from a person who provided all the needed documentation, spoke fluent French, and behaved as an assertive but courteous professional. "Ma pauvre dame, vous ne comprenez pas que je ne peux pas vous aider. Il n’y a que la-bas qu’ils puissent résoudre votre probleme." After being told this, I decided I was outclassed, and that I needed the advice of a lawyer just to accomplish this routine administrative task. After a brief consultation, I learned which police station was responsible for processing my request. (It was Ile de la Cité.) Armed with that information, I told the perfidious fonctionnaire, who assumed I was but another bleating lamb at her mercy, that it was an incontrovertible fact that they were responsible for my case–I had consulted a lawyer. This time, instead of shuttling me off to the 14^th arrondissement, they unapologetically conceded and spent the five minutes necessary to process my request.

When I convince my students or alums to study or work in France, that it will immeasurably enrich their lives, and that any sacrifice is worth making to have the experience, I know that while this is true, I may also be subjecting them to this agonizing right of passage. As I think of constructive suggestions to include in my letter to the Président de la République decrying this state of affairs, I try to pinpoint the exact cause of the deplorable mentality that afflicts so many public servants in France. I think I understand it now.

Way back when, my chain-smoking French roommate Guillemette had a chain-smoking mother who had just been promoted to the rank of "fonctionnaire integre." This meant that she could not be removed from her post, NO MATTER WHAT. This went beyond the protection of tenured professors in the US, who can be removed under certain circumstances. Guillemette’s mother seemed like a genuinely nice person, but I had to wonder if she was overtaken by a steely, vicious psychological sadism when seated behind a desk. Perhaps it is this concentration of uncontestable power, along with the knowledge that handguns are not easily accessible in France, that created this particular brand of human evil.

Seriously, in a void of any checks and balances, power tends to create its own reality. (Just look at what the unchecked power of the Bush administration has wrought.) I realize that it is not the mission of developed countries to offer easy access to anyone who might want to get a foothold there. Homo homini lupus, c’est la vie, and all that. But this attitude is a holdover from some bygone colonial era and it is ripe for reform. Monsieur le Président, mon pote, I'm over here in "l'Amérique profonde" trying to incubate future generations of francophiles.  Can you help me out on this?  I would really appreciate it! Merci d'avance.

Franco-Arab Relations--A Model?

France has traditionally had close ties to the Arab world. This is not my area of expertise, but the reasons are historical and geographical. In the evolution of societies, cultural and economic exchange typically brings mutual understanding and progress. Domestically, France has a considerable Muslim population, consisting of both traditional and assimilated elements. This diversity can create social tensions, as in the Islamic head scarf controversy, while contributing to the overall dynamism of the culture.  After all, since when have religious and cultural homogeneity (envisioned as a lost "golden age" by nationalists of a racist stripe) ever led to a robust and resilient culture? 

In the cartoon images of France seen in some racist, right-wing web sites, France is called the capital of "Eurabia" and an incubator for terrorism. "Enjoy Sha'ria France. I hear the Pierre Cardin and YSL burkas will be stunning at next year's prete a porte" (sic) is one comment posted on "Little Green Footballs."  In these "quartiers mal frequentes" of cyberspace, France’s close relations with the Muslim world, instead of being viewed as an asset and a resource, are viewed as a taint. This line of thinking can range from the hysterical to the delusional: "Conquest by immigration does not happen peacefully. It is accompanied by violence, as the leaders of the immigrant masses must maintain discipline in their ranks and prevent assimilation. They can accomplish this only by ratcheting up the violence as their numbers grow. We have seen only the beginning of the violence that most likely will precede the Islamization of Europe" from "The Cassandra Page" web site is but one example. In this view, the five million-plus Muslims living, working and raising families in France would be plotting an overthrow of some notion of a "pure" France that never existed. How many French citizens today (or fifty years ago) could truly say that they are descendants of "nos ancetres les Gaulois"?

When the US leaders contemplated invading Iraq, it might have been prudent to consult with a range of allies with more experience with the Muslim world, and indeed within the Muslim world. Instead, the decision was presented to the US and the world as a "fait accompli." The US is a sovereign nation, but nothing prevents us as a nation from obtaining the best information available before taking the momentous step of going to war.  The French might have told us to expect a tenacious insurgency, a recruitment opportunity for terrorists abroad, and a deadly long-term engagement.  Since Wolfwitz, Rumsfeld, Perle, Rice, et al had already made the decision to go to war, this information, correct as it has proven to be, was not welcomed. Not only was it not welcomed, but to express it was to become an enemy of Western civilization and of democracy.  Thanks to the tone set from above, we have nutball extremists excoriating France not only for disagreeing with the US in this instance, but for supposedly throwing out the welcome mat for regiments of Islamist terrorists.  Based on my direct observation, nothing could be further from the truth. 

Like the US, France is a sovereign country.  If the French people choose to consider the facts and follow what their direct experience and their knowledge tells them is true rather than being bullied into surrendering their freedom of self-determination by a superpower . . . that sounds like democracy in action.  Let freedom ring!