tag:theconversation.com,2011:/us/topics/french-culture-48557/articles
French culture – The Conversation
2023-12-28T09:17:33Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/216035
2023-12-28T09:17:33Z
2023-12-28T09:17:33Z
The Taste of Things review: this gastronomic French tale is a feast for the senses
<p>Trần Anh Hùng, the Vietnamese-born French director known for his Oscar-nominated film <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2OfJYvjgQ8">The Scent of Green Papaya</a> (1993) and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYBgsyBwYso">Norwegian Wood</a> (2010), returns with another gorgeous work, <a href="https://www.festival-cannes.com/en/2023/cooking-up-a-storm-with-the-pot-au-feu/">The Taste of Things</a>. Due for UK release in February 2024, the film is already out in France. </p>
<p>As its title indicates, the film is about gastronomy. The Taste of Things has already won the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fp9b3lLJk6Q">best director award at Cannes</a>, and has now been chosen as the French entry for best international feature film (over Cannes Palme d’Or winner <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt17009710/">Anatomy of a Fall</a>) at the 2024 Oscars.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Trailer for The Taste of Things.</span></figcaption>
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<p>Written by Hùng, The Taste of Things was inspired by a 1924 novel by gastronomic writer <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/158175/the-passionate-epicure-by-marcel-rouff/">Marcel Rouff</a>. It tells a simple romance-in-the-kitchen story set in late 19th-century France. </p>
<p>Dodin (Benoît Magimel) is a wealthy gourmet who claims that inventing a new delicious meal contributes more to the happiness of humanity than the discovery of a star. He leads a happy life as, every day, he gets to savour the marvellous work of his cook – an elegant woman named Eugénie (Juliette Binoche). </p>
<p>Although both are devotees of food, Dodin loves talking about it while Eugénie mostly focuses on cooking. When Dodin’s guests complain about Eugénie never joining them at the table after a lavish multi-course dinner, she gracefully responds that she has already communicated with them through her food.</p>
<p>There is one small obstacle to Dodin’s complete happiness. He is eager to make Eugénie his wife, but she seems to love her independence more than she desires his commitment. Dodin’s blissful life is threatened further still when Eugénie falls inexplicably ill.</p>
<h2>A feast for the senses</h2>
<p>The film opens with an almost 40-minute sequence of food being prepared inside a kitchen. In an <a href="https://variety.com/2023/film/global/the-pot-au-feu-tran-anh-hung-interview-1235626950/">interview with Variety</a>, Hùng shared how they filmed this ritual of cooking carefully, like an elaborate choreography for a ballet. </p>
<p>The almost hypnotic sequence shows how Eugénie works her craft with ease, even though the work involves some physical labour as the cook and her assistants lift large hot pots around the kitchen. There is something artistic in the way Eugénie handles the ingredients, mixes them together and cooks them. Her cooking creates magic. </p>
<p>This is a movie that not only pleases the eyes but entertains the other senses. Audiences can take pleasure in following the rhythm of all that elaborate preparation, listening to the sounds of food being simmered or grilled, imagining the scent of the food being cooked or even the taste of it in the mouth.</p>
<p>With meticulous attention to food and how it is prepared, the film’s plot embraces simplicity. There is little conflict and drama. Former off-screen romantic partners Magimel and Binoche show great chemistry, their characters sometimes communicating through glances and smiles rather than words. </p>
<h2>A matter of taste</h2>
<p>The French title of the film is <em>La Passion de Dodin Bouffant</em>. I prefer the original UK title, The Pot-au-Feu, <a href="https://variety.com/2023/film/awards/pot-au-feu-retitled-taste-of-things-juliette-binoche-1235698369/">which was changed</a> at the time of the US release. It refers to a <a href="https://www.myfrenchtable.com/pot-au-feu-or-french-beef-stew/">quintessential French dish</a> – making the film less about the male lead and more about the food, a character in its own right.</p>
<p>Whether The Taste of Things is the best French film of 2023 is a question of personal taste. But it well represents Frenchness in its celebration of <em>savour-vivre</em> – the ability to enjoy life. Here, the joy of cooking and enjoying good food is celebrated above all.</p>
<p>The message of living in the moment is made even more poignant as Eugénie grows increasingly fragile. It is a cliché but forever true: if life is so short, unpredictable and punctuated by dissatisfaction and loss, the best thing we can do is to enjoy the time we have.</p>
<p>As a mostly light, romantic movie with a predictable twist, The Taste of Things never touches on the uncomfortable issue of class division. This is despite the apparent difference in status between Dodin and both Eugénie and the maid Violette, played by Galatéa Bellugi, who is also their kitchen assistant. </p>
<p>The film may be a bit escapist, yet its beauty and humour remind us of the things that make our mundane lives worth living for.</p>
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<p><em>Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/newsletters/something-good-156">Sign up here</a>.</em></p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Thi Gammon does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
With meticulous attention to food and how it is prepared, the film’s plot embraces simplicity.
Thi Gammon, Research Associate in Culture, Media and Creative Industries Education, King's College London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/200735
2023-06-08T20:06:54Z
2023-06-08T20:06:54Z
Pierre Bonnard: the master of shimmering luminosity, who painted difficult paintings and yet made them lucid and accessible
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530761/original/file-20230608-23-6y4gv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=8%2C0%2C2939%2C2024&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Pierre Bonnard, French, 1867-1947, Coffee, 1915. Oil on canvas, 73.0 x 106.5 cm. Tate, London. Presented by Sir Michael Sadler through the NACF 1941. Photo © Tate</span> </figcaption></figure><p>Pierre Bonnard, unlike his older contemporary, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Gauguin">Paul Gauguin</a>, never visited Australia, yet Bonnard’s influence on Australian art is pervasive and profound. </p>
<p>This unusual and magnificent exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria allows us to see Bonnard like never before. </p>
<p>In part, this is due to the exceptional depth in the selection of the more than 100 works by Bonnard for this exhibition, largely drawn on the extensive collection held by Paris’s Musée d’Orsay. </p>
<p>Also, in part, by a stroke of genius in commissioning the celebrated Paris-based architect and designer India Mahdavi to create the exhibition’s scenography. </p>
<p>The exhibition is like a creative collaboration between the artist and the designer. Architectural props, painted walls, special carpets and furnishings all combine to create an intimate environment, setting the mood to be captivated by the magic of Bonnard’s colour. </p>
<h2>A solitary path</h2>
<p>Like his contemporary, the Russian artist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wassily_Kandinsky">Wassily Kandinsky</a>, Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947) initially studied law. After graduating, he abandoned it to pursue a career as an artist. </p>
<p>Also like Kandinsky, he lived and worked in the centre of the art world of his day. He was associated with many of the key artists, and yet, in the final analysis, Bonnard – like Kandinsky – was essentially a loner who traced for himself a solitary path.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1198&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1198&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1198&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1506&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1506&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530759/original/file-20230608-28-lb28wc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1506&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Pierre Bonnard ,Paris, Rue de Parme on Bastille Day, 1890. Oil on canvas, 79.2 x 40.3 cm. National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C. Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon. Photo: National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC.</span>
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<p>In the final decade of the 19th century, Bonnard together with several other young Paris-based artists, including <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89douard_Vuillard">Edouard Vuillard</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maurice_Denis">Maurice Denis</a> and the sculptor <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aristide_Maillol">Aristide Maillol</a>, formed an artistic brotherhood on similar lines to that of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazarene_movement">Nazarenes</a> and the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pre-Raphaelite_Brotherhood">Pre-Raphaelites</a>. </p>
<p>They called themselves “<a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/n/nabis">The Nabis</a>” (a Hebrew and Arabic word meaning “prophets”) and essentially adopted Gauguin’s aesthetic stance of <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/s/synthetism">Synthetism</a>. </p>
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<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-computer-science-was-used-to-reveal-gauguins-printmaking-techniques-37733">How computer science was used to reveal Gauguin’s printmaking techniques</a>
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<p>The basic argument of Synthetism was that the art object an artist produced was a synthesis of the artist’s own vision, training, the medium involved, as well as the stimulus of the scene or object depicted. </p>
<p>In other words, it was a theory which gave the creative person greater artistic licence in interpreting a scene or composition in a work of art, rather than merely transcribing it.</p>
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<span class="caption">Pierre Bonnard, Twilight, or The croquet game, 1892. Oil on canvas, 130.0 × 162.2 cm. Musée d’Orsay, Paris Gift of Daniel Wildenstein through the Society of Friends of the Musée d'Orsay, 1985. Photo © RMN - Grand Palais (Musée d’Orsay) / Hervé Lewandowski.</span>
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<p>Early Bonnard Nabis masterworks include Twilight, or The croquet game (1892), and Paris, Rue de Parme on Bastille Day (1890). These revel in the qualities of the flattened picture plane, the unexpected viewpoints and the strong ornamental properties. </p>
<p>Siesta (1900), a great painting from the NGV’s own collection, has Bonnard moving towards a lighter and more luminous palette with adventurous spatial constructions. </p>
<p>Ostensibly, it is simply a painting of the model shown within the intimate space of the artist’s studio. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=632&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=632&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530735/original/file-20230607-18-bm4n8b.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=632&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Pierre Bonnard French 1867-1947 Siesta (La Sieste) 1900 oil on canvas 109.0 × 132.0 cm National Gallery of Victoria Felton Bequest, 1949.</span>
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<p>However, as you enter the picture space, you realise the figure is being presented from a high angle. You literally peer into the space where the mass of crumpled sheets and soft sensuous flesh meet the richly patterned wallpaper and carpet that seem to envelop and surround them. </p>
<p>Although the figure in her pose may allude to a well-known statue from classical antiquity, the rendition is thoroughly modern. The bedside table thrusts diagonally towards the figure and opens the work to a whole host of Freudian interpretations. </p>
<p>While Bonnard here may well be drawing on artistic sources as diverse as Manet, Matisse and Cézanne, the painting itself is a wonderfully resolved and unified artistic statement – a triumph of visual intelligence.</p>
<p>It is displayed together with the photographs Bonnard took of his model that may have served as source material for the artist.</p>
<p>Bonnard was inspired by photography and the unexpected angles and the cropping of images and implemented these strategies in his art.</p>
<h2>The window</h2>
<p>The window (1925) is a beautiful and lyrical painting executed by Bonnard while staying with a woman called Marthe in a rented holiday villa at Le Cannet, near Cannes, in the south of France. </p>
<p>Looking out of the window, we see the red roofs of the little town of Le Cannet and beyond that sweeping Cézannesque hills. </p>
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<span class="caption">Pierre Bonnard, The window, 1925. Oil on canvas, 108.6 × 88.6 cm. Tate, London. Presented by Lord Ivor Spencer Churchill through the Contemporary Art Society, 1930. Photo © Tate.</span>
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<p>Although his chief preoccupation appears to have been with the attempt to balance the tonal values of his palette and to create the compositional structure through colour, the artist also seems intent on loading the work with a private iconography.</p>
<p>In the foreground on the table lies a book and a sheet of paper with writing implements. On the balcony, in a central position, appears the head of Marthe, shown in profile reading. </p>
<p>The book is clearly identified by an inscription on its cover as the novel <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/337140">Marie</a> by Peter Nansen that Bonnard illustrated. </p>
<p>If one adds together the visual clues, one possible interpretation is Marie was Marthe’s real name and in the year the painting was painted, 1925, Bonnard finally married Marthe. One could speculate that the piece of paper alludes to a marriage certificate.</p>
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<em>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/who-was-marthe-bonnard-new-evidence-paints-a-different-picture-of-pierre-bonnards-wife-and-model-137723">Who was Marthe Bonnard? New evidence paints a different picture of Pierre Bonnard’s wife and model</a>
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<h2>The master of shimmering luminosity</h2>
<p>Ultimately, Bonnard was the master of shimmering luminosity who painted very clever and difficult paintings and yet made them appear lucid and accessible. The open window, the doorway and particularly a mirror were his favourite ploys to give space an ambiguous but convincing formal structure. </p>
<p>His painted surfaces have a textural presence with choppy, visible brushstrokes. </p>
<p>Unlike the Impressionists who followed the reliable path of contrasting complementary colours to make them visually vibrate, Bonnard would set himself impossible tasks such as juxtaposing pink and orange or lemon yellow and olive green. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=601&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/530760/original/file-20230608-20-c1dw4u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=755&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Pierre Bonnard, The studio with mimosa, 1939-46. Oil on canvas, 127.5 × 127.5 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, Musée national d’art moderne - Centre de création industrielle. Purchased from Charles Terrasse, 1979. Photo © Centre Pompidou, MNAM - CCI, Dist. RMN-Grand Palais / Bertrand Prévost.</span>
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<p>He then would cast his central figures against the light and would work on a solution until each tone appears alive, shimmering and vibrating.</p>
<p>In the context of Australian art, scores of artists responded to his work – <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._Phillips_Fox">Emanuel Phillips Fox</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethel_Carrick">Ethel Carrick</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Brack">John Brack</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/fred-williams-in-the-you-yangs-a-turning-point-for-australian-art-83884">Fred Williams</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jon_Molvig">Jon Molvig</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/brett-whiteleys-drawings-reveal-the-artist-as-a-master-draughtsman-37041">Brett Whiteley</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Robinson_(painter,_born_1936)">William Robinson</a> among them.</p>
<p>While I have viewed many Bonnard exhibitions in Australia and abroad, this is the most moving and subtle display that I have encountered. I left the show spiritually refreshed and with tears in my eyes. </p>
<p><em>Pierre Bonnard: Designed by India Mahdavi is at the National Gallery of Victoria International until October 8.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/pierre-bonnard-at-the-tate-the-surprising-reasons-we-love-art-110828">Pierre Bonnard at the Tate: the surprising reasons we love art</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/200735/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sasha Grishin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
An unusual and magnificent exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria allows us to see Bonnard like never before.
Sasha Grishin, Adjunct Professor of Art History, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/179224
2022-03-17T14:09:21Z
2022-03-17T14:09:21Z
Africa and the French language are growing together in global importance
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452506/original/file-20220316-7961-452eqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">France's President Emmanuel Macron (R) and Nigeria's President Muhammadu Buhari.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by Ludovic Marin/AFP via Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Africa is home to the largest number of French speakers in the world – <a href="https://www.languagenext.com/blog/french-speaking-countries-world/#1-how-many-people-in-africa-speak-french">120 million</a> people in 24 francophone countries. As the world marks the United Nations French language day on 20 March, The Conversation’s West Africa regional editor, Adejuwon Soyinka, asked academic and author Kathleen Stein-Smith about the impact of the French language on Africa and the continent’s impact on the language.</em></p>
<p><strong>How widespread is French in African countries?</strong> </p>
<p>French is a global language, spoken by <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/358806825_French_Language_and_Francophone_Culture_in_Sub-Saharan_Africa_--Interdisciplinary_Reflections_on_Multilingualism_and_French_Language_Education">300 million people</a> around the world. Africa, a region of strategic global importance, is <a href="https://www.languagenext.com/blog/french-speaking-countries-world/">home to the largest</a> number of French speakers. </p>
<p>French is the <a href="https://qz.com/africa/1428637/french-is-worlds-fifth-spoken-language-thanks-to-africans/#:%7E:text=French%20remains%20the%20sole%20official,second%20official%20language%20in%2010.">sole</a> official language in 11 African countries and the second official language in an additional 10 countries in Africa.</p>
<p>Africa plays a key role in both the present and future of French, a fact which has been recognised by the <a href="https://www.francophonie.org/">Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie</a>. The organisation, which observed its 50th anniversary in 2020, has its <a href="https://www.moyak.com/papers/history-francophonie.html">roots</a> in Africa. Its current president, <a href="https://normandiepourlapaix.fr/en/personnes-structures/mushikiwabo">Louise Mushikiwabo</a>, is from Africa. </p>
<p><strong>Why do former French colonies in Africa continue to encourage the use of the language?</strong></p>
<p>The language offers access to information, education, media, and culture around the world. It increases the ease of doing business with external Francophone partners. French language skill also facilitates career and professional opportunities both locally and globally.</p>
<p>The Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie publishes a report on the status of the French language in the world, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yR7c58l_GJk&t=188s">La Langue francaise dans le monde</a>, every four years. The most recent report mentions that French is the <a href="https://qz.com/africa/1428637/french-is-worlds-fifth-spoken-language-thanks-to-africans/">fifth most widely spoken language</a> in the world. </p>
<p>It has <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/358806825_French_Language_and_Francophone_Culture_in_Sub-Saharan_Africa_--Interdisciplinary_Reflections_on_Multilingualism_and_French_Language_Education">300 million speakers</a> and this number has increased by 10% in the most recent four-year period studied. </p>
<p><strong>What impact has the use of French language had on the African countries where it is spoken?</strong></p>
<p>In 2018, the French government launched a <a href="https://www.diplomatie.gouv.fr/en/french-foreign-policy/francophony-and-the-french-language/france-s-commitment-to-the-french-language/international-strategy-for-the-french-language-and-multilingualism/">worldwide campaign</a> for French, based on communication, culture and creation. French president Emmanuel Macron specifically highlighted the importance of French in Africa in the worldwide campaign launch, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/mar/20/emmanuel-macron-campaign-french-speaking">stating that</a> French could be “the number-one language in Africa … and maybe even the world.” </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2017/07/france-new-world-leader-in-soft-power/">“soft power”</a> of France and of the French language rests in the power of its ideas and the influence of French culture and values throughout the world.</p>
<p>Africa is of strategic importance, both globally and within the French-speaking world. French offers an opportunity to connect directly with other cultures, with education and information, with career opportunities, and with media and the arts.</p>
<p>The role of French in Africa includes business, notably organising the annual business forum <a href="https://events-export.businessfrance.fr/ambition-africa-en/">Ambition Africa</a> and the networking through the <a href="https://www.ccifrance-international.org/">Chambre de Commerce International</a>. </p>
<p><strong>What impact have the languages and cultures of African francophone countries had on the French language?</strong></p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.france24.com/fr/%C3%A9missions/invit%C3%A9-du-jour/20210319-francophonie-l-afrique-est-l-avenir-de-la-langue-fran%C3%A7aise">future of French</a> is as a global language in an increasingly interconnected world. Africa has a substantial and growing influence within the French-speaking world.</p>
<p><strong>Does the French spoken in Africa feature in French language teaching elsewhere in the world?</strong></p>
<p>The current role and increasing influence of Africa within the Francophone world call for an examination of French language education.</p>
<p>French is the <a href="https://lingotalk.medium.com/top-5-most-learned-languages-in-the-world-8ac85bf96713">second most studied</a> language in world. But despite the longstanding and growing importance of Africa in the Francophone world, many French language learners do not have the opportunity to learn about Francophone culture in Africa.</p>
<p>This presents a challenge for a variety of reasons. On the one hand, many French language learners do not have the <a href="http://www.ijhssnet.com/journal/index/4794">opportunity</a> to come to understand the diversity and vibrancy of the language and the culture that could <a href="http://www.ijhssnet.com/journal/index/4794">increase interest</a> in French and motivation for study of French. </p>
<p>On the other hand, in an interconnected world characterised by mobility, families everywhere face the challenge of transmitting their family language and culture to their children and future generations. </p>
<p>Francophone families residing in other parts of the world may find that the language and culture of Francophone Africa may not always be included in French language education.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/179224/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kathleen Stein-Smith does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Africa, home to the largest number of French speakers, plays a key role in the present and future of the French language.
Kathleen Stein-Smith, Adjunct Faculty, Fairleigh Dickinson University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/171817
2021-11-22T19:08:36Z
2021-11-22T19:08:36Z
Henri Matisse was an artist of colour and sensuous line; an unerring eye until the end
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433016/original/file-20211121-17-11x30p7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C8%2C2685%2C3237&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Henri Matisse, Still life with green marble table (Nature morte à la table de marbre vert) 1941. Oil on canvas, 46 x 38.5 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, purchased 1945 AM 2591 P.
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Philippe Migeat / Dist RMN-GP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Review: Matisse: Life & Spirit, Art Gallery of New South Wales</em></p>
<p>I saw work by Henri Matisse (1869-1954) for the first time when I was seven. It was a tapestry, Polynesia, newly acquired for the collection of the Art Gallery of NSW. I wondered at the simplicity of the clean, white, marine shapes floating on blue squares. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/whats-on/exhibitions/matisse/">Matisse: Life & Spirit</a>, the gallery’s summer blockbuster, shows how this rhythmic elegance was achieved. It includes the original maquette of that tapestry, called Polynesia, the sea, as well as its partner, Polynesia, the sky. </p>
<p>They hang in the final room of the exhibition, a celebration of the creativity and unerring eye of an old man, ravaged by illness. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C5%2C3711%2C2332&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C5%2C3711%2C2332&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433004/original/file-20211121-27-1oaunk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse, Polynesia, the sky (Polynésie, le ciel) 1946. Gouache on paper, cut and pasted, mounted on canvas, 200 x 314 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, from Mobilier national et Manufactures des Gobelins, de Beauvais et de la Savonnerie since 1975 AM 1975-DEP 13.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Bertrand Prévost / Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>His hand that once defined feminine beauty with a single curving line could no longer draw, but, as an accompanying video shows, he remained a master with scissors and used a stick to direct assistants where to place the shapes he cut. </p>
<p>Matisse’s Polynesia was the distilled memory of his visit to Tahiti in 1930. Although he had made some drawings at the time, he was never the kind of artist to paint a travelogue. Rather, years later in war-torn France, he took elements of that place of sun, sea, light and colour to make it his own. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-the-tate-to-the-moma-cross-continental-perspectives-of-matisses-cut-outs-32931">From the Tate to the MoMA: cross-continental perspectives of Matisse's cut-outs</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Polynesia also gave Matisse the technique of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tivaevae">tivaevae</a> – traditional Polynesian appliqué fabric – which he adapted to make cut-outs which Justin Paton, one of the exhibition’s co-curators, has called “one of the great flowerings of modern art”.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=571&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=571&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433005/original/file-20211121-25-qz49ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=571&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse, The sorrow of the king (La tristesse du roi) 1952. Gouache on paper, cut and pasted, mounted on canvas, 292 x 386 cm.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, purchased by the state, 1954 AM 3279 P. © Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Philippe Migeat / Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The greatest of these is the exquisite melancholy of The Sorrow of the King: a self-portrait in extreme old age and a contemplation of the music of death. It is so large, so fragile, it sits enthroned, shielded by glass, overseeing the final room of this very large exhibition. </p>
<p>It shares this room with the wild music of Jazz, Matisse’s first substantial series of cutouts devised as an illustrated book. Here, the individual pieces are placed as though they are musical notation, giving them a syncopated rhythm on the wall.</p>
<h2>Matisse’s chapel</h2>
<p>The architect Richard Johnson designed the exhibition, a masterly homage to great art. </p>
<p>This homage is most obvious in the exhibition’s centrepiece, an evocation of Matisse’s last great work, the <a href="https://www.theartpilgrim.org/pilgrimages-2/the-chapelle-du-rosaire-de-vence">Chapel of the Rosary</a> at Vence. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=328&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=328&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=328&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=412&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=412&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433007/original/file-20211121-13-w6bnkh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=412&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Installation view of ‘Matisse: Life & Spirit Masterpieces from the Centre Pompidou, Paris’ exhibition, on display at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, 20 November 2021 – 13 March 2022.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © AGNSW, Mim Stirling</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Matisse designed the chapel, built between 1947 and 1951, as a tribute to the Dominican nuns who nursed him during his illness, and as an exploration of how spiritual values let in the light after the darkness of war. </p>
<p>Despite being a Christian chapel, the forms evoke both nature and plants from other cultures, so it becomes more of a universal affirmation of spirituality. </p>
<p>Here, the gallery’s central court has been modified to match the size and proportions of the chapel. The artist’s drawings on the tiles are screened in a video loop, while the walls are hung with full size studies for the stained glass windows. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=778&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=778&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=778&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=978&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=978&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433020/original/file-20211121-19-1v4kfy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=978&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse. Blue nude II (Nu bleu II) 1952. Gouache on paper, cut and pasted on paper, mounted on canvas, 103.8 x 86 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, purchased 1984 AM 1984-276. © Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Service de la documentation photographique du MNAM / Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There are the two collage designs for the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chasuble">chasubles</a> (a priest’s outermost liturgical vestments), while the entrance shows both an evocation of the chapel’s exterior and a wall quoting the plain white tiles of the interior. </p>
<h2>Matisse the sculptor</h2>
<p>Thanks to the Centre Pompidou’s generosity in lending many works that have never travelled so far before, it is possible to see here the full range of Matisse’s art, including sculpture. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433008/original/file-20211121-13-16fpv48.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Installation view of ‘Matisse: Life & Spirit Masterpieces from the Centre Pompidou, Paris’ exhibition, on display at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © AGNSW, Mim Stirling</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>It is one thing <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2007/may/12/art.art">to read</a> of the ongoing influence of his Back series (four bronze sculptures of female backs) on his decorative paintings, but an altogether different experience to see these large bronze relief works of the bodies of powerful women. </p>
<p>Other, smaller, sculptures serve as a reminder of the importance of African art to Matisse as he was exploring form. This was more than a search for the exotic. </p>
<p>Rather, Matisse seems to have been on an endless quest for new ways of seeing and then incorporating what he found into his world.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=446&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433012/original/file-20211121-27-1vmkqb5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse, Still life with magnolia (Nature morte au magnolia) 1941. Oil on canvas, 74 x 101 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, purchased 1945 AM 2588 P.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Philippe Migeat / Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The influences of Matisse</h2>
<p>Matisse surrounded himself with objects and people that become recurring images within his work. This has enabled the curators to place the blocky bronze Reclining Nude (1907) adjacent to Still Life with Ivy (1916), a painting that includes the Reclining Nude sculpture. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433013/original/file-20211121-21-syk18m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse, Odalisque with red culottes (Odalisque à la culotte rouge) 1921. Oil on canvas, 65.3 x 92.3 x 2.5 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, purchased by the state, 1922 LUX.0.85 P.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Philippe Migeat / Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Other works appear to quote, with variations, some of his colleagues. As with other artists of his generation, he was influenced by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_C%C3%A9zanne">Cézanne</a>, famous for his blocky, structured still lifes. Matisse painted Still life with green buffet, where the structure is flattened while the perfectly placed fruit seems to levitate into the ether.</p>
<p>Matisse’s career is a reminder not all artists start young. He was studying law when he suffered from appendicitis. While he was recovering, his mother gave him a paint box and he was seduced by colour. </p>
<p>With Matisse it was always about colour. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=714&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=714&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=714&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=897&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=897&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433015/original/file-20211121-23-5rcuxh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=897&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse, Self-portrait (Autoportrait) 1900. Oil on canvas, 55 x 46 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, donation Pierre Matisse, 1991 AM 1991-271.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Philippe Migeat/Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One of the earlier works in the exhibition is a portrait of the Italian model Bevilaqua. The sheer intensity of the pure cobalt blue of the shadows around his face show the power of colour that would first bring Matisse to critical attention with the Fauve exhibition in 1905. Then there is the brilliance of The Red Carpets, with contrasting patterns of a flamboyant, intense red. </p>
<p>It may be the impact of the dogmatic Cubists, or perhaps the trauma of World War I muted his tone for some time – Minimalists could learn from the rich black in French Window at Collioure. But colour and sensuous line soon reasserted themselves as his dominant mode.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=689&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=689&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=689&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=866&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=866&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/433014/original/file-20211121-21-ss333x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=866&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Henri Matisse, Face on yellow ground (Visage sur fond jaune) 1952. Gouache and ink on paper, 75.3 x 64.6 cm. Centre Pompidou, Paris, MNAM-CCI, donation Pierre Matisse, 1991, at Musée de Grenoble since 1993 AM 1991-281.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Succession H Matisse/Copyright Agency 2021. Photo: © Centre Pompidou, MNAM-CCI / Philippe Migeat / Dist RMN-GP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The beauty of this exhibition is the way it unfolds the development of the artist’s life, underpinned by his exquisite drawings, which act as background music. As well as the art, it is enlivened by rare archival film footage – including one delightful sequence where he shows he has no power over his dog.</p>
<p><em>Matisse: Life & Spirit Masterpieces from the Centre Pompidou, Paris is at the Art Gallery of NSW until March 13 2022</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/171817/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joanna Mendelssohn has received funding from The Australian Research Council.</span></em></p>
Matisse: Life & Spirit is a celebration of the creativity of the master of colour.
Joanna Mendelssohn, Principal Fellow (Hon), Victorian College of the Arts, University of Melbourne. Editor in Chief, Design and Art of Australia Online, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/168878
2021-10-05T11:57:04Z
2021-10-05T11:57:04Z
Pas de souci! The French war on saying ‘no worries’
<p>The quirks of the French language are an eternal puzzle for many foreign learners. But what students often don’t know is that they are also the matter of heated debates and controversies within France itself.</p>
<p>The evolution of the language and the variety of linguistic practices throughout society in France are commented upon with passion <a href="https://www.lefigaro.fr/langue-francaise">in the press</a>, and governed by the famous Académie Française – the semi-official authority on the French language whose members, known as “immortals”, issue decrees on how it should be used.</p>
<p>Among the phenomena to which <a href="https://www.lefigaro.fr/langue-francaise/expressions-francaises/2016/10/10/37003-20161010ARTFIG00006-les-expressions-a-bannir-au-bureau-pas-de-souci.php">purists</a> take much exception, probably none is more contentious than the now highly frequent use of <a href="https://www.liberation.fr/culture/2012/08/21/y-a-pas-de-souci_841003/">“pas de souci!”</a>, an expression mirroring the English “no problem!” or “no worries!”</p>
<p>The noun <a href="https://www.wordreference.com/fren/souci"><em>souci</em></a> normally means worry, care or concern, but “pas de souci!” can be used in all sorts of contexts, including as an equivalent of English “all right” or even “you’re welcome”, to signify that the speaker has taken note of the other’s statement or expressed intention.</p>
<p>For instance, if I am sitting in a café and order a coffee, the waiter may answer “pas de souci!” to acknowledge my order. There is of course no concern or no worry at stake here.</p>
<h2>The case against “pas de souci!”</h2>
<p>Some, <a href="https://www.academie-francaise.fr/pas-de-souci">including the Académie Française</a>, say this expression is a mistake; the immortals have ruled that it is a phrase heard “too often”, when the speaker could instead simply say “oui”.</p>
<p>Others say that “pas de souci!” is <a href="https://twitter.com/RaveaudGilles/status/1404349636207419393">rude</a>. In a sketch, stand-up comedian <a href="https://static.blog4ever.com/2017/04/828127/artvideo_828127_7913840_201810145223824.mp4">Blanche Gardin</a> said the phrase was symptom of a “parano-megalomaniac” disposition. For Gardin and others, “pas de souci!” is a self-centred display of excessive vulnerability, or alternatively a misplaced demonstration of one’s own <a href="https://www.franceculture.fr/emissions/carnet-de-philo/carnet-de-philo-du-mercredi-12-mai-2021">magnanimity</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The Académie Française at night" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/424548/original/file-20211004-25-1nbhasc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Académie Française has a souci with ‘pas de souci’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/drs1ump/8172486036">drs1ump</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The claim is the following: by saying “pas de souci!”, or “no worries!”, I am supposedly implying that the other person’s statement might indeed have raised a grave concern or worry, in which case I would have demanded that they withdraw their request.</p>
<p>Some raise a second objection to the use of this expression: its similarity to the English “no worries!” and, above all, “no problem!”. This was the most frequent remark I received after the <a href="https://theconversation.com/pas-de-souci-retour-sur-une-expression-mal-aimee-164361">French-language version of this article</a> was published on The Conversation. “Pas de souci!” is suspected of being a loan translation, a disguised borrowing from English, which, at least for some, is a problem (or… a worry?).</p>
<hr>
<p><em><strong>Lire cet article en français:</strong> <a href="https://theconversation.com/pas-de-souci-retour-sur-une-expression-mal-aimee-164361">“Pas de souci”: retour sur une expression mal-aimée</a></em></p>
<hr>
<h2>Taking care without worrying</h2>
<p>But we need not fear “pas de souci”. These days, it is false to say that in French, “souci” stands for “worry” or “concern”.</p>
<p>For instance, “dans un souci de quelque chose” means “for something’s sake” or “in the interest of something”. When we say, “On a un souci”, we mean that something stands in our way, but not necessarily something to worry about. “Le souci de soi” means self-attention or self-care.</p>
<p>In other words, the original meaning of “souci” has morphed into something else. Currently, it is used to point our attention toward the future, anticipating plausible impediments for our plans.</p>
<p>Just like for “no problem!” or “no worries!”, there is no real trace of first-person (<em>je</em>) or second-person (<em>tu</em>) in “pas de souci!” There is nothing egocentric or personal here: what is addressed is the general absence of obstacles.</p>
<p>“Pas de souci!” and “no problem!” also serve an important linguistic function. These types of phrases are known as <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Istvan-Kecskes-2/publication/222838917_Situation-bound_utterances_as_pragmatic_acts/links/5a05bea9aca27233aade6308/Situation-bound-utterances-as-pragmatic-acts.pdf">“situation-bound utterances”</a>. This means that these are not phrases we freely construct ourselves: their form and their meaning have become conventionalised in their entirety.</p>
<p>“Pas de souci!” and “no problem!” are part of what linguists call <a href="https://www.gabrielediewald.de/fileadmin/_gd/downloads/Diewald_Pragmaticalization_LING.2011.pdf">“pragmaticalization”</a>, where certain individual phrases become specialised for certain conversational uses. “Tell me about it!” or “So what?” are both good examples of this.</p>
<p>With this in mind, the question becomes: what is the specific conversational use fulfilled when we say “pas de souci”?</p>
<h2>Saving face</h2>
<p>“Pas de souci!” is an example of what the American sociologist Erving Goffman called <a href="https://web.stanford.edu/%7Eeckert/PDF/GoffmanFace1967.pdf">“facework”</a>. The aim of facework is that each speaker can “save face” throughout the conversation: everybody has to take care of their own face, but also has to preserve the face of the addressee.</p>
<p>“Face” here stands for the symbolic territory claimed by each participant, starting with the image of themselves that they wish to convey. Thus, facework is a matter of both competition and cooperation. It relies on the anticipation and elimination of any kind of micro-aggression, disappointment or wound that may arise from a mismatch in the shared space of conversation.</p>
<p>In this sense, “pas de souci!” and “no problem!” are very useful, precisely because they do not contain any personal references. By leaving aside any difference between me and you, and by not stating who may endure a concern of any kind, these expressions make an interaction smoother and show that the speaker is taking care of everybody.</p>
<p>Another French expression in the same vein as “pas de souci!” is “t’inquiète”, or “don’t worry”, where the second person is referred to by the “t’”. This can easily give the expression a paternalistic flavour (“I’m taking care of that for <em>you</em>”), whereas the impersonal “pas de souci”, means that I don’t judge it relevant to distinguish between me and you in the situation.</p>
<h2>The trouble with purism</h2>
<p>We have to dismiss the claim that “pas de souci!” is a mistake, a manifestation of egocentric attitudes or the result of the covert influence of English.</p>
<p>The reference to English in particular is a strawman and has probably much to do with a more general attitude toward language change in France: the opposition to language change at the micro-level – the evolution in the meaning of individual words or phrases – is framed as opposition to language change at the macro-level – the refusal to let “the French language” turn into something different.</p>
<p>It is true that macro-level language change often happens via the <a href="https://www.routledge.com/On-Language-Change-The-Invisible-Hand-in-Language/Keller/p/book/9780415076722">accumulation of smaller changes</a>. But in opposing “pas de souci!” the superficial dismissal of a small evolution in meaning is used to stigmatise individual speakers who use the disparaged expression as unfaithful to the rules of language, but also as rude, egocentric and socially unaware of the others.</p>
<p>What makes “pas de souci!” so interesting is the fact that a detailed analysis shows the exact contrary to be true. In fact, everybody who cares about meaning in everyday speech should also care about facework both as a concept for the analysis of speakers’ behaviour and as a rule for our own practices when we discuss language use.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/168878/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Pierre-Yves Modicom a reçu des financements de Ministère français de l'Enseignement Supérieur, de la Recherche et de l'Innovation. </span></em></p>
It’s one of the most common expressions used in French but also one of the most controversial. A linguist explains why “pas de souci” is no mere English import.
Pierre-Yves Modicom, Maître de conférences en études germaniques, Université Bordeaux Montaigne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/165567
2021-08-18T15:22:36Z
2021-08-18T15:22:36Z
How politicians use French rap to stoke divisions
<p>In 2021, two cases have put rap at the heart of media debates in France. The first concerns the rapper Médine.</p>
<p>On <a href="https://youtu.be/Rngqz5jj4Qc">18 February</a>, MP Aurore Bergé, a member of President Emmanuel Macron’s governing party, expressed her support for the higher education minister, Frédérique Vidal, who had just commissioned an investigation into <a href="https://theconversation.com/enqueter-sur-les-sciences-sociales-a-luniversite-comment-sortir-des-polemiques-sur-l-islamo-gauchisme-156072">“islamo-gauchisme”</a> (a neologism that translates as “Islamo-leftism”) in universities.</p>
<p>Appearing on TV, Bergé <a href="https://www.francetvinfo.fr/societe/justice/le-rappeur-medine-porte-plainte-contre-la-deputee-lrem-aurore-berge_4309029.html">said</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>At the École Normale Superieure, you have this Islamist rapper who is invited, Médine – you know, the one who said that secularists should be killed in our country. Is it legitimate for such a prestigious school as ÉNS to give the floor to someone who calls for murder?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>A few days later, the rapper <a href="https://www.mediapart.fr/journal/france/230221/le-rappeur-medine-porte-plainte-contre-la-deputee-lrem-aurore-berge?onglet=full">filed a complaint</a> for defamation, refuting the claim that he called for murder and rejecting the MP’s description of him as an “Islamist”.</p>
<p>The second case concerns the artist Youssoupha. On 19 May 2021, the French national football team released a video presenting the players selected for the upcoming Euros, accompanied by a dedicated song by the rapper.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1394979741799702529"}"></div></p>
<p>As soon as the video was released, several politicians criticised the French Football Federation for the choice of artist and called for the video to be withdrawn. The president of the federation <a href="https://www.lemonde.fr/football/article/2021/05/27/pour-noel-le-graet-la-chanson-de-youssoupha-n-est-pas-l-hymne-des-bleus-pour-l-euro_6081683_1616938.html">distanced</a> himself from the choice following the outcy.</p>
<p>Jordan Bardella, a candidate for the far-right Rassemblement National in the regional elections <a href="https://www.francetvinfo.fr/politique/front-national/l-hymne-des-bleus-chante-par-youssoupha-on-a-cede-a-une-partie-racaille-de-la-france-accuse-jordan-bardella_4630865.html">denounced</a> Youssoupha, saying the rapper had “called for death threats against Eric Zemmour”, a prominent figure on the far-right in France. Bardella said that he was “shocked that someone like that should be chosen to represent France in the Euros… We have given in to the scum of France by choosing these types of lyrics.”</p>
<p>Youssoupha had been taken to court by Zemmour over his lyrics in the past, but he was not convicted of threatening his life, contrary to what Bardella implied, and what far-right mayor of the town of Béziers, Robert Ménard, <a href="https://www.francetvinfo.fr/sports/foot/equipe-de-france/desintox-le-rappeur-youssoupha-n-a-pas-ete-condamne-pour-menaces-de-crimes-et-injure-publique-a-l-encontre-d-eric-zemmour_4656781.html">explicitly claimed</a>.</p>
<h2>Racialised debates</h2>
<p>Reactivating debates that have frequently taken place <a href="http://www.theses.fr/2013PA030103">over the past decade</a>, these two incidents put rap back on the political agenda during a busy year marked by regional elections and the build-up to the 2022 presidential poll.</p>
<p>This trend reveals that, despite the growing cultural recognition of rap music in France, it remains stigmatised among politicians and the media. Rap in general, and many specific rappers, are still not perceived as socially legitimate in their home country.</p>
<p>In 2006, researchers Didier and Eric Fassin <a href="https://www.cairn.info/de-la-question-sociale-a-la-question-raciale--9782707158512.htm">pointed out</a> that some national public debates are “saturated with racialised and often racist representations”. In this vein, politicians regularly use the works of rappers to denounce the existence of a racial divide in the French Republic and to ostracise young minority men from working-class suburbs, or <em>banlieues</em>.</p>
<p>As sociologist Karim Hammou demonstrated in 2014, <a href="https://www.cairn.info/une-histoire-du-rap-en-france--9782707181985.htm">this corresponds</a> this politicisation of rap forms part of a “nationalist moral crusade”. By targeting rap music and rappers, politicians fuel a <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Folk-Devils-and-Moral-Panics/Cohen/p/book/9780415610162">moral panic</a>, i.e. a disproportionate reaction seeking to provoke collective indignation at the cultural contributions of minorities, even when these releases involve <a href="https://next.liberation.fr/musique/2020/09/18/paroles-antisemites-de-freeze-corleone-apres-l-omerta-le-theatre-politique_1799860">necessarily criticisable</a> works.</p>
<figure>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Menace de Mort, Youssoupha, 2011.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These attacks serve specific political purposes. In the case of Aurore Bergé, it was about defending Frédérique Vidal’s campaign against social sciences as they are taught in French universities and the promotion of the government’s new law to counter <a href="https://theconversation.com/frances-new-separatism-law-stigmatises-minorities-and-could-backfire-badly-162705">“separatism”</a>.</p>
<p>In the case of Jordan Bardella, it was about enlarging the Overton window – the range of publicly acceptable political opinions – to include identifying a Black rapper as “scum” (<em>racaille</em> in French) who is hostile to the civic community.</p>
<h2>Out of context</h2>
<p>In the two cases studied, the attacks consist of using old, out of context and sometimes distorted lyrics to justify the outbursts against the accused rappers.</p>
<p>The interpretation by these politicians of rappers’ lyrics is not based on any knowledge of the aesthetic codes of rap – <a href="https://www.facebook.com/politistes.sorbonne.p1/videos/209090727651934">“anger is the politeness of rap”</a>, Médine has said – nor of their thematic evolution.</p>
<p>The two rappers acknowledge that they began their careers with a desire to make a mark through provocation and no longer agree with some of the images or texts they produced in the past. As Youssoupha <a href="https://www.franceinter.fr/emissions/boomerang/boomerang-07-juin-2021">explained</a> earlier this year:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I’m a rapper, an activist… I’ve said some strong things, with a virulence that I take responsibility for, but digging them up, distorting them, decontextualising them… We’re spending time in 2021 analysing texts that I wrote when Chirac was president! I don’t always agree with myself but I can’t regret it because when I said it, it was the emotion of the moment.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>For his part, Médine has indicated that in the current French political context, he would no longer be able to name an album <a href="https://www.senscritique.com/album/Jihad_Le_plus_grand_combat_est_contre_soi_meme/6046499">“Jihad: The greatest of battles is against oneself”</a> though he did so in 2005 to talk about the struggle for individual spiritual elevation (one of the meanings of the term).</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Voltaire, Médine, 2021.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This dissection of rappers’ prolific back catalogues, which form part of the French tradition of <a href="https://lemotetlereste.com/musiques/sansfautesdefrappe/">sometimes violent</a> political songs, to focus in on a few small phrases is part of a project of <a href="http://www.theses.fr/2013PA030103">policing rap lyrics</a>, not without consequences for those who wrote them.</p>
<p>In addition to Youssoupha being abandoned by the president of the French Football Federation, and the hours lost in the courts fighting Eric Zemmour, it’s also worth noting that, during a previous controversy, Médine had to cancel a planned concert at the Bataclan – the site of the 2015 Paris terror attacks – and was the target of an <a href="https://www.mediapart.fr/journal/france/120621/comment-un-infiltre-berne-des-patriotes-qui-projetaient-des-attentats-islamophobes">assassination plot</a> by a far-right terrorist cell.</p>
<h2>Will rap ever be seen as legitimate?</h2>
<p>The political and legal stigmatisation of rap music in France began in the 1990s, with battles over lyrics taking place in the <a href="https://halshs.archives-ouvertes.fr/halshs-00464227">media</a>, in the <a href="https://www.gibert.com/droits-et-hip-hop-11380495.html">courts</a> and in the <a href="https://www.cairn.info/une-histoire-du-rap-en-france--9782707181985-page-239.htm">National Assembly</a>.</p>
<p>The trajectory of political denunciation often follows the same path: first, the far-right wages <a href="https://www.francetvinfo.fr/culture/musique/qui-est-black-m-le-rappeur-que-l-extreme-droite-ne-veut-pas-voir-chanter-aux-commemorations-de-verdun_1447105.html">a media campaign</a>, as they did against rapper Black M who was booked to perform at war commemorations in Verdun, then the parliamentary right seizes on the subject and sometimes, government ministers take the musicians to court.</p>
<p>This was the case for <a href="https://www.liberation.fr/france-archive/1995/08/31/ministere-de-l-interieur-contre-ministere-amer-une-plainte-a-ete-deposee-contre-le-groupe-de-rap_140412/">Ministère AMER</a>, taken to court by interior minister Charles Pasqua, and <a href="https://www.liberation.fr/societe/2010/06/25/la-cour-de-cassation-donne-raison-a-la-rumeur-contre-nicolas-sarkozy_661833/">La Rumeur</a>, who faced charges brought by Nicolas Sarkozy.</p>
<p>In 1995, the <a href="https://www.lemonde.fr/archives/article/1996/11/16/les-chanteurs-de-ntm-condamnes-a-la-prison-ferme-pour-outrage-a-la-police_3750778_1819218.html">group NTM</a> were pursued through the courts for comments they made about police during a live concert.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Je Suis Chez Moi, Black M, 2016.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the <a href="http://www.leseditionsdeminuit.fr/livre-La_Distinction-1954-1-1-0-1.html">sociological theory of cultural legitimacy</a>, a popular artistic genre becomes legitimate over time when it is recognised for its aesthetic form and consecrated by institutions, the media, industries and audiences.</p>
<p>In the case of rap, the aim is to understand the gap that persists between the growing recognition of the genre in the <a href="https://journals.openedition.org/volume/8482">cultural and economic fields</a> – there is no disputing its enormous popularity among the general public – and the persistence of the idea of rappers as repulsive figures in the dominant political discourse.</p>
<p>Back in 2017, it was clear that French rap had <a href="https://www.lesechos.fr/2018/02/le-rap-francais-moteur-du-marche-de-la-musique-984682">become the driving force of the domestic music market</a> and its popularity has only grown since then. But the presence of rap in the <a href="https://www.franceinter.fr/musique/pourquoi-le-rap-est-il-present-dans-la-programmation-musicale-de-france-inter">general cultural media</a> and its recognition at <a href="https://www.francebleu.fr/infos/culture-loisirs/victoires-de-la-musique-avec-la-consecration-de-gradur-c-est-toute-la-scene-rap-de-roubaix-qui-gagne-1613031568">music awards</a> does not seem to be accompanied by an easing of tensions with the political field.</p>
<p>In 2021, rap music, or at least the music of certain rappers, retains its position as an <a href="https://halshs.archives-ouvertes.fr/hal-01505114">“othered” cultural product</a> in France, which continues to provoke political debate and remains subject to polemics and penalisations by the media and politicians.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/165567/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Marie Sonnette a reçu des financements du département des études de la prospective et des statistiques du ministère de la Culture. </span></em></p>
Recent polemical debates over French rappers Youssoupha and Médine show that rap is still not accepted by the political mainstream.
Marie Sonnette, Maîtresse de conférences en sociologie, Université d'Angers
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/145720
2020-09-08T11:32:33Z
2020-09-08T11:32:33Z
Lady Gaga’s VMAs performance is part of a long international tradition of performing with masks
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/356962/original/file-20200908-22-k3bu9j.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=460%2C16%2C1724%2C1069&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoG04Nyea8w&ab_channel=LadyGagaVEVO">Screengrab/MTV via YouTube</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Before a bruise-coloured backdrop, Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande performed a medley of Chromatica II and Rain on Me at MTV’s recent <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5D4vjndnB0w">Video Music Awards (VMAs)</a>. Gyrating in purple and black, the singers’ costumes were distinctive for including face masks. </p>
<p>Gaga’s mouth covering, possibly inspired by the breathing apparatus of Darth Vader or Batman villain Bane, featured an animated wavelength. The mask’s pixelated oscillations seemed appropriately dystopian for a performance that included a piano housed in a puce-coloured, brain-like carapace. By contrast, Grande’s mask appeared to be more of an afterthought, consisting of a small rectangle of elasticated black cloth.</p>
<p>Face coverings on stage may seem obvious, even uninspired, amid a pandemic. Most of the world’s governments have now made <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/04/countries-wearing-face-masks-compulsory-200423094510867.html">mask wearing mandatory</a> in public. And yet, the reason for this costume decision probably wasn’t straightforward. </p>
<p>There is a long global tradition of mask-wearing in live performances, making COVID-19 more of a catalyst than a cause in Gaga and Grande’s clothing choice. </p>
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</figure>
<h2>Masked performances on the small screen</h2>
<p>Pre-pandemic, and across both sides of the Atlantic, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2020/jan/14/silly-naff-unmissable-the-masked-singer-is-a-truly-terrible-delight">The Masked Singer</a> has challenged television audiences to identify performers of famous songs. The concept, in which artists’ bodies are completely concealed within brightly-coloured and slightly unnerving costumes, was adapted from the South Korean television show, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt6289510/">King of Masked Singer</a>, which began in 2015. </p>
<p>This global, cross-cultural fascination with masks in contemporary singing performances, which is to say nothing of their ubiquity on <a href="https://www.crfashionbook.com/fashion/g26676248/mask-trend-fallwinter-2019-collections/">fashion catwalks</a>, offers a more convincing frame for Gaga and Grande’s VMA dress. There’s a paradox to these masked performances: even though an artist’s conventional identity is concealed, they are often more expressive and engaging than performances where artists can be clearly recognised.</p>
<p>It seems appropriate that today’s forms of masked musical performance draw inspiration from Asian models. Some of the oldest traditions of live performance that involve face and head coverings can be traced to China and Japan. </p>
<p>China’s <em><a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/us-art-china-facechaning/chinese-opera-face-changing-its-a-kind-of-magic-idUSTRE5BA0I720091211">Bian Lian</a></em>, “face changing”, is a highly skilled, secretive form of acting within Sichuan opera that uses face coverings to guide narrative. Characters’ masks are quickly changed with deft movements of the hand to signal fluctuations in mood. </p>
<p>Similarly, Japanese <em><a href="https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2091.html">Noh</a></em> performances use of over 400 types of wooden face mask to indicate a character’s social position and shifting emotional state. <em>Noh</em> can be translated as “skill”. The term expresses the highly disciplined nature of this deeply expressive medium.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Pictures of the same mask with different expressions depending on the angle." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=306&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=306&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=306&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356799/original/file-20200907-16-t5lbet.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Three pictures of the same Noh mask showing how the expression changes with a tilting of the head.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noh#/media/File:Three_pictures_of_the_same_noh_'hawk_mask'_showing_how_the_expression_changes_with_a_tilting_of_the_head.jpg">Wmpearl/Wikimedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Asian traditions of masked musical performance have gradually become known in the West through routines on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EOMxffXpsWE">America’s Got Talent</a> and Tian-Ming Wu’s film, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0115669/">The King of Masks</a>. </p>
<h2>European traditions of masked performance</h2>
<p>Continental Europe also has its own costumed customs. </p>
<p>Italy’s <em><a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/comm/hd_comm.html">Commedia dell’ Arte</a></em> and its French derivation, the <em><a href="https://www.cfregisters.org/en/project-history/about-the-com%C3%A9die-fran%C3%A7aise">Comédie Française</a></em>, were essentially improvised skits that combined music, mask wearing and stock characters. </p>
<p>The most popular characters are <a href="https://www.musee-orangerie.fr/en/artwork/harlequin-and-pierrot">Harlequin and Pierrot</a>. This masked duo, who were in a never-ending duel for the love of the beautiful Columbine, became widely popular across Europe in the 20th century. Contemporary artists, including <a href="https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.66405.html">Paul Cèzanne</a> and <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/489124">Pablo Picasso</a>, became these characters in self-portraits or used their dress and props to create portraits of family members. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="Harlequin in a red and black diamond pattern jumpsuit holding a sword." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=932&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=932&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=932&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/356796/original/file-20200907-14-1qsjg8h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Paul Cézanne’s son dressed as Harlequin.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.66405.html">Collection of Mr and Mrs Paul Mellon</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Earlier still, during the 17th century, the <a href="https://www.rmg.co.uk/discover/explore/masque-and-music-stuart-court">royal court masque</a> became popular. An allegorical drama that involved music and choreographed masked dancing, it reached its peak in England under the tense partnership of poet Ben Jonson and architect Inigo Jones. Jonson and Jones used masking and music to support the institution of Stuart monarchy by crafting plots that emphasised the necessity for divinely-sanctioned kingship. </p>
<p>As Europe’s political and cultural authority spread globally, particularly during the 19th century, so too did its traditions of masked musical performance. </p>
<p>Since 1957, to mark its independence of British rule, Ghana has staged the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/WbaFancyDress/">Winneba Fancy Dress Festival</a>, staged each year on January 1 and involving masked dance contests. Amalgamating Ghanaian forms of live performance and the costume traditions of the Dutch and British, artist <a href="https://www.okayafrica.com/photos-winneba-fancy-dress-festival-living-museum/">Hakeem Adam</a> suggests the festival “is a living museum – it reminds us of the past as well as catalysing conversation on the conditions of the present.”</p>
<figure>
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</figure>
<p>If these examples show that masked singing performances entertain – chiefly because of their skill and surprise – they also explain their ubiquity and deep cultural resonance. Anonymised performers make use of multiple senses – sight, sound, touch – to create a “total artwork” (<em><a href="https://www.theartstory.org/definition/gesamtkunstwerk/">gesamtkunstwerk</a></em>) that blurs the divide between reality and recreation. This unique, ambiguous form of performance enables an audience to project their thoughts – individual and collective – onto the artists, who essentially become avatars and act as a psychological salve. They can facilitate the simultaneous exploration of spectators’ hopes and fears – about a global pandemic in the case of Lady Gaga and Arianna Grande – national identity and social roles. </p>
<p>Reflecting on her VMA collaboration with Ariana Grande, Lady Gaga <a href="https://www.elle.com/culture/celebrities/a33839619/ariana-grande-mugler-outfit-mtv-vmas-2020/">explained</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We create things that make us feel comfortable. We put them all around. I do it all the time. We all do things to make ourselves feel safe. And I always challenge artists when I work with them. I go, ‘Make it unsafe, make it super fucking unsafe and then do it again’.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In identifying the provocation caused by face coverings, Gaga connects – however inadvertently – with a long and global performance tradition that recognises the potential of masks to excite and to explore contemporary social issues.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/145720/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Benjamin Wild does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The tradition of performing in a mask, from china to France, shows how it can be just as evocative and entertaining.
Benjamin Wild, Lecturer in Contextual Studies (Fashion), Manchester Metropolitan University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/138125
2020-05-08T10:45:39Z
2020-05-08T10:45:39Z
The poetic power of Idir, the artist who took Algerian music to the world
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/333394/original/file-20200507-49565-1boomon.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Salvatore di Nolfiepa/EFE/EPA</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/05/iconic-algerian-singer-berber-idol-idir-dies-70-200503141909813.html">death</a> of Algerian icon <a href="https://idir-officiel.fr">Idir</a> has brought an important chapter of Algerian music to a close. Through his brilliant career, Idir modernised and promoted the richness of <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Kabyle-people">Kabyle</a> melodies and poetry, popularised North African culture, and advocated for unity and tolerance both in Algeria and in France.</p>
<p>Looking at Idir’s life in music is looking into Algeria’s relationship with its history and identity, but also questioning what it means to be exiled in a new country, France, and to be a citizen of the world.</p>
<p>Hamid Cheriet, better known as Idir, was born in 1949 and grew up during the Algerian <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2006/11/a-chronology-of-the-algerian-war-of-independence/305277/">War of Independence</a> in Aït Yenni, a small village bordering the Djurdjura mountain range of Kabylia. It is within this setting that Idir developed a deep understanding of the rich oral traditions of his own Kabyle culture, a branch of <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Berber">Amazigh (Berber)</a> culture. </p>
<p>Through his mother and grandmother’s roles as hosts of vigils within their local community, where local poetry and tales were recited, Idir came to learn the power of words from a young age. </p>
<p>Initially he did not pursue a career in music. But his life took a turn in 1973 when he was called on at a moment’s notice to replace the Kabyle singer Nouara at Radio Algiers. It led to his recording <em>Rsed A Yidess</em> (May Sleep Come) and <em>A Vava Inouva</em> (My Dad). <em>A Vava Inouva</em> would soon become his most iconic work as well as one of the first North African songs to gain international recognition. </p>
<p>In 1976, after completing his military service and moving to Paris, at the request of the French label Pathe-Marconi, he produced his <a href="https://bit.ly/2A8q9si">first album</a>, named after his hit <em>A Vava Inouva</em>. This marked the beginning of a long and fruitful career in music.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/333421/original/file-20200507-49573-peb1xw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Idir and his daughter Tanina Cheriet perform in Paris in 2013.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">David Wolff/Patrick/WireImage</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Ambassador of Kabylia</h2>
<p>Shortly after gaining independence from the French, the new Algerian government began a steady-paced process of <a href="http://countrystudies.us/algeria/53.htm">arabisation</a> throughout the country. This involved promoting Arabic as the national language. This denied much of the country’s rich linguistic and cultural diversity. This was particularly true among the Amazigh factions of the population, who accounted for a third of the total. </p>
<p>These repressive government policies resulted in mass political <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/1362938042000325813">protest</a> throughout Kabylia in 1980, a period known as the <a href="https://www.encyclopedia.com/humanities/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/berber-spring">Berber Spring</a>, later followed by the <a href="https://www.encyclopedia.com/humanities/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/black-spring">Black Spring</a> in 2001. These two periods of social unrest were violently repressed by the Algerian government. </p>
<p>It is these repressive policies that Idir, a fierce defendant of his Kabyle heritage, dedicated much of his life to fighting. He did this through his unapologetically Kabyle music and his role as an advocate for Kabyle culture. </p>
<p>Some artists, such as the late <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Lounes-Matoub">Matoub Lounes</a> – another great figure of Kabyle music – were outwardly critical of the government in their lyrical content. Idir’s lyrics bore their power in their poetic depictions of Kabyle social life and culture. </p>
<p>The songs <em>A Vava Inouva</em> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFOU-MIHqz0"><em>Zwit Rwit</em></a> (Shake It Move It), both on his <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDY30v6wSzQ">debut album</a> and the cornerstones of his career, are good examples of this. The first is a melancholic ballad, portraying the atmosphere of the vigils which he attended in his childhood. The second is an exhilarating dancing piece that conveys the upbeat mood of a wedding.</p>
<p>This album, followed by <em>Ayarrach Negh</em> (For Our Children) in 1979, bears the musical mark of Idir’s sound. It is a savant blend of traditional instruments: the shepherd flute which he learned to play as a child, the bendir (a frame drum), the tambourine, and darbuka (a goblet-shaped drum) accompanied by the guitar, bass, and drums. </p>
<p>Filled with a feeling of melancholia and nostalgia as an exile in France, his songs convey his deep yearning for home and touch upon universal themes. It is in their universal essence, bearing collective memories and histories, that his songs retain their power.</p>
<h2>Multicoloured and multicultural</h2>
<p>After a decade-long break from show business, Idir returned to centre stage in 1991 with a compilation release, followed by the release of his third album two years later. In 1993’s <em>Les chasseurs de Lumières</em> (Light Hunters) Idir addresses his favourite themes: exile, liberty and love. It came at a time of serious political <a href="https://www.britannica.com/place/Algeria/Civil-war-the-Islamists-versus-the-army">upheaval</a> with Algeria experiencing a violent and bloody civil war between the military government and Islamist groups. </p>
<p>Though Idir remained true to his specifically Kabyle heritage, he maintained a strong sense of Algerian pride through which he sought fraternity, democracy, and secularism, in those times of trouble and uncertainty. As such, he appeared in a collaboration with the renowned <a href="https://foreignpolicy.com/2010/09/10/khaled-and-the-myth-of-rai/">Raï singer Cheb Khaled</a>, in 1995, for a concert in Paris promoting peace, liberty, and tolerance, amongst a Berber and Algerian Arabic speaking audience.</p>
<p>A long-time advocate for unity, Idir continued to promote peace and a sense of togetherness with the release of his album <em>Identités</em> (Identities) in 1999. This included collaborations with a wide variety of artists from different backgrounds: French, North African, Malian, and Ugandan. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uyuP-jwXaSQ?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">A Vava Inouva in concert in Algiers in 2018.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In an attempt to bridge the two shores of the Mediterranean Sea, <em>Identités</em> also featured a moving duo with Franco-Spanish musician and producer Manu Chao called <em><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCWVZyjz0Cw">A Tulawin (Une Algérienne Debout)</a></em> (A Standing Algerian), a powerful message of hope for a country ravaged by civil war. The album also linked Kabylia with Celtic folk music, in which he <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rt0J7P4yDZU">performed</a> with Scottish singer Karen Matheson and the Breton guitarist Gilles Servat, in innovative collaborations. </p>
<p>The album encapsulated a vision of a multicultural and multicoloured France, one which he would later reassert in his 2007 album <em>La France des Couleurs</em> (France of Colours).</p>
<p>In his two last albums, <em>Adrar Inu</em> (My Mountain) and <em>Ici et Ailleurs</em> (Here and There), released in 2013 and 2017, Idir offered a more intimate picture of his music, going back to the source of his inspiration, his natal Kabylia, with reinterpretations of some of the classics of the French popular music repertoire, such as <em><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTtnlpEiTnE">La Boheme</a></em> (Bohemia) with the late Charles Aznavour. In 2018, for the first time in 38 years, Idir appeared on stage in Algiers for a concert celebrating the Berber New Year. Two years later he proudly talked in interviews of the current peaceful protests in Algeria.</p>
<p>Idir produced only a handful of studio albums. Nevertheless his contribution to the world of music and culture was immense. He will be remembered for promoting his Kabyle heritage to the world, thus contributing to its sustainability against cultural erasure, for seeking a peaceful, democratic, secular, and united Algeria, and for his vision of tolerance and integration in France. All artfully – and subtly – done through his music.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/138125/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Hugo Hadji does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Looking at his brilliant career is looking into Algeria’s relationship with its history and identity, but also questioning what it means to be exiled.
Hugo Hadji, Doctoral Researcher in ethnomusicology, SOAS, University of London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/133568
2020-03-22T12:21:21Z
2020-03-22T12:21:21Z
On its 50th anniversary, the Francophonie can find new purpose despite mixed legacy
<p>Fifty years ago, on March 20, 1970, the representatives of 22 countries met in Niamey, Niger, to form the Agence de coopération culturelle et technique, an international body dedicated to dialogue among French-speaking nations. The agency’s goals and structures shifted over time until in 2005 it became the present-day <a href="https://www.francophonie.org/">Organisation internationale de la Francophonie</a>.</p>
<p>March 20 marks Francophonie Day and March itself is <em>le mois de la Francophonie</em>. But these opportunities to celebrate a shared language and cultural dialogue come with baggage. </p>
<p>Some observers see in La Francophonie <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/feb/19/emmanuel-macron-challenged-over-attitude-to-frances-former-colonies">a form of neocolonialism</a> that has helped to protect France’s international influence and promoted metropolitan French culture at the expense of local inflections. Even in North America, France is active in supporting Francophonie events; Québec, too, has used language <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/02722011.2019.1650785">to assert political influence</a> beyond its borders since the 1970s.</p>
<p>The Francophonie may have a mixed legacy but there is no need to reject its principles wholesale. By looking at grassroots efforts led by determined individuals — in Vermont, no less — we can de-emphasize the France-centric qualities of the Francophonie. That way, we might foster good will and dialogue in an increasingly bordered world.</p>
<h2>Immigration and ‘bonne entente’, or good will</h2>
<p>In eastern North America, French has thoroughly transcended political boundaries. After 1840, French Canadians <a href="https://iehs.org/transplantation-of-french-canada-challenging-immigration-history/">emigrated from Lower Canada</a> (later Québec) to the United States in ever-rising numbers — likely more than a million over the course of a century. In the northeast, they built distinct cultural institutions that would ensure the permanence of their ethnic identity.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1226&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1226&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321773/original/file-20200319-22632-1fh8t9x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1226&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Joseph Denonville Bachand, an early proponent of bridging French communities past national borders.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(La Tribune, Nov. 9, 1938)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Enter Joseph Denonville Bachand who, in 1902, crossed the Canada-U.S. border and established his dental practice in St. Johnsbury, Vt. Bachand supported French-language endeavours in his state and continually reached back to Québec. Far from confining his interests to ethnic organizations, he launched a campaign for a state senate seat. He ultimately lost the primary in a crowded field.</p>
<p>Still, Bachand’s moment came. In 1937, he obtained his long-desired sinecure when <a href="https://learn.uvm.edu/aiken/about-george-aiken/">Governor George Aiken</a> appointed him chairman of the Vermont Commission of Foreign and Domestic Commerce. Bachand became the lead architect of a good will ceremony whose likes had been few in the history of Canada-U.S. relations.</p>
<p>On June 12, 1938, public officials from both countries gathered in the rural hamlet of Stanhope, Que., located in sight of the international border. There they dedicated the <em>Monument de la Bonne Entente</em> (Good Will Monument), a stone marker that cemented renewed dialogue and friendship between Québec and Vermont. Bachand and Aiken were present alongside Québec dignitaries. The Vermont delegates in particular noted the importance of cultivating shared commercial interests.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=428&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=428&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=428&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=538&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=538&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321775/original/file-20200319-22602-1mauw6a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=538&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A newspaper clipping showing another ‘good will’ meeting, this one held in Vermont in August 1938.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Sherbrooke Daily Record, Aug. 3, 1938)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Connecting through culture</h2>
<p>I presume that Bachand, who called himself <em>the</em> pioneer of French cultural survival in Vermont, saw the event differently. He lived out the belief that immigrants could fulfill their civic obligations and contribute to their adoptive country while retaining their heritage. Anglo-Vermonters did not meet that proposition with perfect equanimity: many demanded <a href="https://vermonthistory.org/journal/71/vt711_205.pdf">an Americanism that erased minority cultures</a>. French Vermonters remained in something of a political and social wilderness — as Bachand himself had been.</p>
<p>He hoped to change that. His excursions to Québec and his work on the good-will ceremony of 1938 suggested that a stronger international relationship, growing from shared cultural anchors, might ensure the recognition and acceptance of French Vermonters.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1224&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1224&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1224&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1538&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1538&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321776/original/file-20200319-22627-1kckykl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1538&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A stalwart of Francophone relations, Joseph Denonville Bachand’s work prior the Second World War pre-dated the Francophonie, which celebrates its 50th anniversary in 2020.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Rutland Vermont Daily Herald, Jan. 13, 1959)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The event at the border did not occur in a vacuum. Representatives from Québec and Vermont had begun to meet on an annual basis. <a href="https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/Acadiensis/article/view/12036">Continentalist sentiments</a> were growing in intellectual circles on both sides of the boundary line. But, in Québec and Vermont, there was reason to believe that a shared idiom could yield benefits that would transcend economics.</p>
<p>Despite the dedication of the <em>Monument de la Bonne Entente</em>, those efforts were overtaken by larger, more urgent concerns, namely the Second World War. Yet, when Nazi Germany launched its invasion of Poland the following year, Vermont Governor Aiken was again north of the border in Canada with his “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quebec_lieutenant">Québec lieutenant</a>.” Though continental integration continued slowly during the Second World War, smaller efforts were overshadowed by the conflict.</p>
<h2>Towards a new Francophonie</h2>
<p>Bachand’s cultural vision was left incomplete as he retired from public life in 1959. He died in March 1970, three days before the creation of the Agence de coopération culturelle et technique, and a few years before a revival of ethnic affirmation in Franco-American communities. He was already a forgotten figure.</p>
<p>Since then, new pioneers have used the French language to build bridges across borders in all of their forms. Québec’s sovereignty movement <a href="https://digitalcommons.library.umaine.edu/francoamericain_forum/74/">inspired some Franco-Americans</a> to act locally for the preservation of their own heritage. More recently, some have <a href="https://www.npr.org/2017/03/27/521648929/in-maine-a-common-language-connects-french-canadians-african-immigrants">reached out to African immigrants</a> in Maine and welcomed them in their own tongue. Three years ago, Burlington, Vt., hosted Québec officials at <a href="https://www.uvm.edu/cas/vermontresearch/french-connections-franconnexions">an event</a> that seamlessly blended commerce and culture.</p>
<p>At that event, Vermont Attorney General T. J. Donovan reminded attendees that the historic marginalization of Franco-Americans has reappeared, now with other minority groups as targets. The winds of nativism are again sweeping around the globe, a dark reminder of the pre-war wall-building that Bachand witnessed.</p>
<p>The francophone world now has an opportunity to find renewed purpose and to break with difficult questions about neocolonialism and cultural homogenization. From a social wilderness and the supposed margins of the francophone world, Bachand’s work points to the value of individual agency and relentless dedication to bridging borders.</p>
<p>Language and language education are powerful pathways to <a href="http://querythepast.com/journee-de-la-francophonie-exeter-nh/">mutual understanding</a>, to <em>bonne entente</em>; people can and should reclaim that power, whatever their preferred tongue. Now, more than at any time since the 1940s, there must be dialogue between people of good will to complement and mould the concerns of state power.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/133568/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Patrick Lacroix does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
On the month of the Francophonie’s 50th anniversary, it’s time to think about the untold story of French connections across the Canada-U.S. border
Patrick Lacroix, Instructor in History, Acadia University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/125851
2019-11-06T16:32:44Z
2019-11-06T16:32:44Z
What early French female press can tell us about a key period for women in public life
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300224/original/file-20191105-88428-1qjy1kx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Lady Reading in an Interior (between 1795 and 1800).</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source"> Marguerite Gérard (1761–1837)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Straddling the private and public domains, the early French women’s press – the various published journals and pamphlets that began to appear in the 18th and early 19th centuries – can provide a unique insight into women’s everyday struggles and successes during a particularly turbulent period in France’s history. </p>
<p>Women’s magazines today are often thought of as ideologically somewhat conformist. They are seen to promote a limited range of feminine role models and to reinforce norms regarding women’s position within patriarchal society. The content of much of the early French women’s press presents a very different picture.</p>
<p>The origins of the French women’s press date back to the 18th century. The first women’s journal of any substance and longevity, <a href="https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Journal_des_Dames">Le Journal des dames</a>, was published from 1759 until 1778. Over the next few decades a variety of different subsections and types of article emerged – many of which, whether the domestic magazine or the problem page, remain current in today’s women’s press. </p>
<p>It was my interest in the “political” potential of these representations of French women’s daily lives that <a href="https://liverpooluniversitypress.blog/2019/07/23/figurations-of-the-feminine-in-the-early-french-womens-press-1758-1848-in-conversation-with-siobhan-mcilvanney/">gave rise to my book</a> Figurations of the Feminine in the Early French Women’s Press, 1758-1848. During this period, French women had no right to political representation. Despite the Enlightenment emphasis on the rights of the individual, women were not considered of equal status to men. Their education was significantly less extensive than men’s in terms of both subjects taught and duration, resulting in high levels of illiteracy.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=806&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=806&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=806&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1013&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1013&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300089/original/file-20191104-88394-128509q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1013&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Olympe de Gouges (1748-1793)</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Unknown artist</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The playwright and social reformer <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Olympe-de-Gouges">Olympe de Gouges</a> famously drafted her own <a href="http://chnm.gmu.edu/revolution/d/293/">Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Citizen</a> in 1791 in response to what she viewed as the gendered inequalities of the original Declaration in 1789. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Napoleonic-Code">Napoleonic Code of 1804</a> <em>legally</em> obliged wives to obey their husbands and gave the latter complete control of all property. So how did these earliest women’s journals engage with the rights and roles of French women at the time? </p>
<h2>Building communities of women</h2>
<p>The early French women’s press spans a range of genres, from the literary review (Le Journal des dames) to the fashion journal (Le Journal des dames et des modes [1797-1839]) to the more socially conscious feminist journal, <a href="https://www.ohio.edu/chastain/dh/feminps.htm">La Femme libre</a> (1832-34), which strove to improve employment conditions for women. These publications had a variety of target readerships, depending on the sorts of issues they covered – and these, in turn, partly depend on their historical period of publication. </p>
<p>Just as the Revolution of 1789 provided an impetus for women’s journals and pamphlets, such as <a href="https://journals.openedition.org/1718/371?lang=en">Les Étrennes nationales des dames</a>(1789) to intensify their demands for sexual equality, journals during the Restoration adopt a moralistic tone (<a href="https://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/person/mp160236/le-journal-des-dames-et-des-modes">Le Journal des dames et des modes</a>, focusing on more light-hearted subjects such as fashion and characterising female readers as guardians of the hearth and paragons of virtue. </p>
<p>The <em>actual</em> readership of early French women’s journals, aside from what we can glean from articles and letters submitted by readers, is more difficult to establish and circulation claims are notoriously unreliable. Both literacy levels and the expense of the earliest women’s journals clearly limited their readership, although journals were passed among friends and within households – and, according to the correspondence of readers in Le Journal des dames et des modes (July 1803) were even read aloud.</p>
<p>What is clear is the pleasure expressed by many women readers at engaging in dialogue with a community of like-minded individuals and the resulting sense of collective identity and political consciousness based on gender. For the first time, French women readers – largely confined to the domestic realm – were encouraged to articulate their “private” opinions in a public forum.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=709&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=709&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=709&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/300237/original/file-20191105-88409-p9n0ui.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Many women writers, such as George Sand, chose to adopt male pseudonyms when publishing.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jean-Baptiste Bonjour (1801-1882)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Women authors too, such as Madame de Savignac – who published educational fiction for young people – writing in Le Journal des femmes <a href="https://data.bnf.fr/fr/32799710/journal_des_femmes__paris__1832_/">in May 1833</a>, appreciated the role played by women’s journals in supporting women’s intellectual achievements and in giving women authors the confidence to renounce their male pseudonyms. </p>
<p>Many contemporary women authors adopted male pseudonyms – Savignac makes specific mention of George Sand – in order to maintain anonymity and increase the likelihood of publication in a male-dominated publishing world. </p>
<h2>Civic feminism</h2>
<p>Women’s journals both act as a mirror to the society in which they are produced but can also help modify aspects of that society. Like today’s women’s press, early women’s journals in France were also selling the notion of a better life. But rather than appealing to the reader’s materialist aspirations, they did so by highlighting the need for women’s personal and public responsibility. They demonstrated a form of “civic feminism”, to employ a term adopted by the historian <a href="https://www.palgrave.com/gp/book/9781403904935">Carla Hesse</a>.</p>
<p>If the content varies depending on the journal and the historical context in question, the radicalness of the agenda and of the narratives these journals promote is striking. Many journals – in particular the fashion press – still remained conservative in their worldview. But many others confronted legislative and social prejudices against women in an endeavour to strengthen their rights – whether to divorce or to vote – and to improve their standing in French society through the promotion of a more intellectually challenging education for women. As <a href="https://academic.oup.com/fs/article-abstract/61/4/523/579937">Suellen Diaconoff remarks</a> in her study Through the Reading Glass: Women, Books, and Sex in the French Enlightenment:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It would be overstating the case to say that female editors focused on setting a full pro-woman agenda in their periodicals, or to assert that they saw themselves first as feminist activists and secondarily as journalists. But it is, nonetheless, true that their journals often carried a competing and alternative discourse for women, at significant variance from the model widely accepted in the mainstream.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Early French women’s journals also fought for a more inclusive French canon that treated women authors seriously. They championed women’s right to choose their own husbands in an age of arranged marriages and encouraged those women with unhappy marriages to write in anonymously about their problems, thereby providing the first example of the problem page (<a href="https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k42642v.image">Le Courier de l’hymen, journal des dames</a>, 1791).</p>
<p>They petitioned for improvements in women’s education and employment conditions (La Femme libre and <a href="https://www.ohio.edu/chastain/dh/feminps.htm">La Voix des femmes</a>, 1848). In short, for their contemporary readers, these early journals promoted women’s intellectual, familial and professional contributions to French society. </p>
<p>For today’s reader, they provide a privileged and – as yet – largely un-navigated mapping of French women’s evolving personal and political trajectories.</p>
<p>
<section class="inline-content">
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/249588/original/file-20181210-76968-jfryp4.png?h=128">
<div>
<header>Siobhán McIlvanney is the author of:</header>
<p><a href="https://kclpure.kcl.ac.uk/portal/en/publications/figurations-of-the-feminine-in-the-early-french-womens-press-17581848(9fcb3bcc-7c22-46b1-9251-3193be6caa31).html">Figurations of the Feminine in the Early French Women’s Press, 1758-1848.</a></p>
<footer>Liverpool University Press provides funding as a content partner of The Conversation UK</footer>
</div>
</section>
</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/125851/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Siobhán McIlvanney does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
In a turbulent period of French history, women’s journals started to agitate for legal, political and cultural rights.
Siobhán McIlvanney, Reader in French and Francophone Women’s Writing; Head of Department of French, King's College London
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/112115
2019-03-06T11:18:22Z
2019-03-06T11:18:22Z
Five books on work by French authors that you should read on your commute
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261417/original/file-20190228-106371-3bw5gr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>An emerging genre of fiction in France is providing an unlikely brand of escapism. Growing numbers of French writers are choosing work as their subject matter – and it seems that readers can’t get enough of their novels.</p>
<p>The prix du roman d'entreprise et du travail, the French prize for the <a href="https://www.prixduromandentreprise.fr/">best business or work-related novel</a>, is testament to the sustained popularity of workplace fiction across the Channel. The prize has been awarded annually since 2009, and this year’s winner will be announced at the Ministry of Employment in Paris on March 14. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.placedelamediation.com/">Place de la Médiation</a>, the body which set up the prize, is a training organisation specialising in mediation, the prevention of psychosocial risks, and quality of life at work. Co-organiser <a href="https://www.technologia.fr/">Technologia</a> is a work-related risk prevention consultancy, which helps companies to evaluate health, safety and organisational issues.</p>
<p>The novels shortlisted for the prize in the past ten years reflect a broad range of jobs and sectors and a whole gamut of experiences. The texts clearly strike a chord with French readers, but English translations of these novels suggest many of the themes broached resonate in Anglo-Saxon culture too.</p>
<p>The prize certainly seeks to acknowledge a pre-existing literary interest in the theme of work. This is unsurprising in the wake of the global financial crisis and the changes and challenges this has brought. But the organisers also express <a href="https://www.prixduromandentreprise.fr/">a desire to actively mobilise fiction</a> in a bid to help chart the often choppy waters of the modern workplace: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Through the power of fiction, [we] want to put the human back at the heart of business, to show the possibilities of a good quality professional life, and to relaunch social dialogue by bringing together in the [prize] jury all the social actors and specialists of the business world.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>What better way to delve into this unusual genre than by reading some of the previous prize winners. Below are five books to get you started.</p>
<h2>1. Underground Time</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261412/original/file-20190228-106347-8okghu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
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<p>The first prize was awarded to Delphine de Vignan for <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/underground-time-9781408811115/"><em>Les heures souterraines</em></a>. In this novel, the paths of a bullied marketing executive and a beleaguered on-call doctor converge and intersect as they traverse Paris over the course of a working day. A television adaptation followed, and an English translation was published by Bloomsbury in 2011. Work-related journeys and the underground as a symbol for the hidden or unseen side of working life have proved enduring themes, picked up by several subsequent winners.</p>
<h2>2. The Man Who Risked It All</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=926&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=926&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=926&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1164&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1164&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261413/original/file-20190228-106371-1olll8x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1164&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
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</figure>
<p>Laurent Gounelle’s <a href="https://www.hayhouse.co.uk/catalog/product/view/id/21204/s/the-man-who-risked-it-all-1/"><em>Dieu voyage toujours incognito</em></a>, winner of the 2011 prize, takes us from the depths of the underground to the top of the Eiffel Tour, where Alan Greenmor’s suicide attempt is interrupted by a mysterious stranger. Yves promises to teach him the secrets to happiness and success if Alan agrees to do whatever he asks. This intriguing premise caught the attention of self-help, inspirational and transformational book publisher Hay House, whose translation appeared in 2014.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/five-books-by-women-about-women-for-everyone-92816">Five books by women, about women, for everyone</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>3. The Reader on the 6.27</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=965&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=965&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=965&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1213&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1213&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261414/original/file-20190228-106341-hrcilz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1213&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/jean-paul-didierlaurent/the-reader-on-the-6-27/9781509836857"><em>Le liseur du 6h27</em></a> by Jean-Paul Didierlaurent, the 2015 winner, tells the story of a reluctant book-pulping machine operative. Each day, Ghislain Vignolles rescues a few random pages from destruction, to read aloud to his fellow-commuters in the morning train. The novel crystallises the fraught relationship between intellectual life and manual work. </p>
<p>It also illustrates the tension between culture and commerce, arguably at its most pronounced in France, where cultural policy has traditionally insisted on the distinction between cultural artefacts and commercial products. <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/reviews/the-reader-on-the-627-by-jean-paul-didierlaurent-book-review-set-to-woo-british-readers-and-become-a-10300236.html">The Independent review of the English translation</a> describes the book as “a delightful tale about the kinship of reading”.</p>
<h2>4. Undersea View</h2>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=891&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1120&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1120&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261410/original/file-20190228-106365-10erww0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1120&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
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</figure>
<p>Slimane Kader took to the belly of a Caribbean cruise ship to research <a href="https://www.allary-editions.fr/publication/avec-vue-sous-la-mer/"><em>Avec vue sous la mer</em></a>, which claimed the 2016 prize. His hilarious account of life as “joker”, or general dogsbody, is characterised by an amusing mishmash of cultural references: “I’m dreaming of <em>The Love Boat</em>, but getting a remake of <em>Les Misérables</em>” the narrator quips. The use of “<a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/1892853.stm">verlan</a>” – a suburban dialect in which syllables are reversed to create new words – underlines the topsy-turvy feel. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, there’s no English version as yet – I imagine the quickfire language play would challenge even the most adept of translators. But translation would help confirm the compelling literary voice Kader has given to an otherwise invisible group.</p>
<h2>5. Woman at Sea</h2>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=964&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=964&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=964&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1212&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1212&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/261409/original/file-20190228-106341-ykvetd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1212&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Catherine Poulain’s <em><a href="https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/111/1112907/woman-at-sea/9781911214588.html">Le grand marin</a></em>, the 2017 winner, is a rather more earnest account of work at sea. The author draws on her own experiences to recount narrator Lili’s travails in the male-dominated world of Alaskan fishing. </p>
<p><em>Le grand marin</em> (the great sailor) is ostensibly the nickname Lili gives to her seafaring lover. The relationship is something of a red herring though, as the overriding passion in this novel is work. But the English title perhaps does Lili a disservice – she is less a floundering Woman at Sea, and more the true <em>grand marin</em> of the original.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.placedelamediation.com/prix/?service=la-selection-2017">This year’s shortlist</a> includes the story of a forgotten employee left to his own devices when his company is restructured, a professional fall from grace in the wake of the Bataclan terrorist attack, and a second novel from Poulain, with seasonal work in Provence the backdrop this time. </p>
<p>The common draw, as in previous years –- and somewhat ironically, given the subject matter –- is escapism. We are afforded either a tantalising glimpse into the working lives of others, or else a fresh perspective on our own. English readers will be equally fascinated by French details and universal themes – and translators’ pens are sure to be poised.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/112115/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Amy Wigelsworth does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
An emerging genre of fiction in France is providing an unlikely brand of escapism.
Amy Wigelsworth, Senior Lecturer in French, Sheffield Hallam University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/109971
2019-01-16T15:25:55Z
2019-01-16T15:25:55Z
Colette: writer, feminist, performer and #MeToo trail blazer
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/254145/original/file-20190116-163274-16lew65.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C3%2C371%2C378&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Colette, photographed by Henri Manuel.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The French writer Colette was indifferent and even hostile to the feminist movement in the early 1900s. But both her writing and the way she lived her life represent a vibrant and radical feminism in tune with the #MeToo spirit of today.</p>
<p>Born in rural Burgundy in 1873, Sidonie Gabrielle Colette (the abbreviated pen name came later) belonged to a middle class but unorthodox family. Raised by a mother who was as sceptical of religion as she was of bourgeois respectability, she was 20 when she married Henri Gauthiers-Villars (“Willy”), the 33-year-old charming but dissolute writer son of a family friend. </p>
<p>The marriage was both a good and a bad move for Colette. Willy introduced her to the rich Bohemian culture of the Parisian demimonde, and launched her career by insisting (despite her reluctance) that she write down memories of her schooldays. </p>
<p>But his serial infidelities distressed and depressed her. And as an unscrupulous literary entrepreneur, Willy cheerfully sold his wife’s semi-autobiographical <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Complete-Claudine-School-Paris-Married/dp/0374528039">“Claudine” novels</a> under his own name. </p>
<p>The stories of a spirited, tomboyish heroine rapidly became a <a href="https://www.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/books/isbn/9781786941565/">publishing sensation</a>, with profitable sales of related merchandise including Claudine cigarette holders. But the profits were all Willy’s. </p>
<p>When, in her early 30s, Colette decided to leave the marriage, she had to find a way to support herself. Energetic and resourceful, she began to publish under her own name and took classes in dance and mime. She trained in the gym and went on stage, becoming the only great French author (to my knowledge) to have alternated writing with dancing semi-nude on stages all over France. </p>
<p>She combined her careers, writing both fiction and non-fiction set behind the scenes of the music hall, giving a voice to the underpaid women performers who featured so often from a male perspective in paintings and novels of the time. She also began a passionate affair with a cross-dressing lesbian aristocrat, Missy, and scandalised the nation by sharing a passionate kiss with her on stage. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=548&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=548&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=548&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=688&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=688&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/254095/original/file-20190116-163283-j1tj8i.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=688&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In the 1907 pantomime which included a kiss with a woman.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Director <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5437928/">Wash Westmoreland’s recent film</a> about Colette takes us to this point in her colourful career. She would go on to write prolifically as a journalist, novelist, essayist and innovator in the blended genre of “autofiction”. </p>
<p>She would nurse in World War I, marry twice more, bear a daughter at the age of 40, bolster her flagging finances by opening a beauty parlour – and finally become, for the French, “our great Colette”. But a whiff of scandal was still attached to her name, and acceptance of her as a great writer was slow. </p>
<p>The Catholic Church even refused to grant her a religious funeral (although she would have agreed with the Church, for religion formed no part of her passionate love of life.)</p>
<h2>Sex and sensuality</h2>
<p>Westmoreland’s film, starring the British actor Keira Knightley, shines a deserved spotlight on an important feminist figure. From the Claudine series on, Colette gives us a serenely irreverent perspective on a patriarchal culture. </p>
<p>She reverses the gaze of heterosexual desire to provide sensual, detailed descriptions of male bodies, and writes with equal sensuality and precision of same-sex desire. She writes movingly of romantic love and motherhood but insists, in her novel <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/BREAK-DAY-Sidonie-Gabrielle-Colette/dp/0374528322">Break of Day</a> that both are also peripheral to a woman’s life:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Once we’ve left them both behind, we find that all the rest is gay and varied, and that there is plenty of it. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>In life, as in writing, she places female friendship centre-stage, sometimes subverting the eternal triangle by making its primary focus the relationship between a man’s wife and his mistress. She often published in women’s magazines, right up to her death in 1954 (Elle serialised her final books), and wrote comically and caustically of trying to make her own robust, food-loving body fit into the willowy fashions of the inter-war years. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BZdh6Aax7KE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
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<p>In a very public life, as in her fiction, she exemplified financial and social independence and shame-free sexuality – what we would now call “gender fluidity”. She possessed a generous optimism that went against the grain of the angst and despondency which characterised so much male literature of the 20th century.</p>
<p>She remained, throughout, a popular writer. An author read for pleasure, for the sensuality of her prose, the dry note of humour that peppers her eloquence, the lightness of touch that means her seriousness is never heavy or self-important. </p>
<p>One of France’s greatest – and certainly most unconventional – writers, she has been translated – often brilliantly – into other languages. Her appearance on cinema screens should bring her even more readers.</p>
<p>
<section class="inline-content">
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/249588/original/file-20181210-76968-jfryp4.png?h=128">
<div>
<header>Diana Holmes is the author of:</header>
<p><a href="https://www.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/books/id/43097/">Middlebrow Matters: Women’s reading and the literary canon in France since the Belle Époque</a></p>
<footer>Liverpool University Press provides funding as a content partner of The Conversation UK</footer>
</div>
</section>
</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/109971/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Diana Holmes is affiliated with the UK Labour Party (as a member).
Diana Holmes received a LEVERHULME Fellowship grant in 1999-2000 to work on a book on the author Rachilde, and has received British Academy Small Grants for conferences /workshops on French literature, cinema, popular culture.</span></em></p>
The French writer’s work and life make perfect cinematic subjects.
Diana Holmes, Professor of French, University of Leeds
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/87114
2018-11-20T10:28:50Z
2018-11-20T10:28:50Z
What these two French words can teach us about social change
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235998/original/file-20180912-133895-ltvjks.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/158710843@N02/37854657896/in/photolist-aqZ3K8-fbu1gR-ZF61Xs-Yp2KVu-nmGdXi-NWvfaz-29PdYch-NBNECw-KVmUQv-KVabgW-UUXefR-b4SgC6-cnLkoS-oKCRVU-cyDDe3-URnBPW-ar2Bq1-UvBDfb-TPeSAs-TPeVZb-TSeJ1c-c5So9b-TPjjQd-c5Sof1-bUuGe1-nXDbsY-ZSSFGv-TPg7au-c5SseY-nXDbH7-JMptRa-URnZam-4Qq7Nq-bbvgU-bPnqQp-UUX8rr-ipNwS-TSc4xp-8oL84m-V6HQfr-V6NvQR-UU6h72-UU8kBz-UU8hxi-UU3g96-V3eefS-V6PwHv-UU8sJF-TSb3jV-KcCJVR">TeaMeister</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>When a society changes, its language is likely to change along with it. To take an extreme example, past colonisers often <a href="http://teach.linguisticanthropology.org/2013/11/12/syllabus-language-and-colonialism/">forced</a> the inhabitants of colonised lands to speak their language. If they hadn’t, the Americas would not be speaking European languages today. On a smaller scale, language can change simply to reflect social trends: <a href="http://www.meits.org/policy-papers/paper/multicultural-london-english-and-social-and-educational-policies">Multicultural London English</a> reflects the perceived prestige of Jamaican-influenced English among (largely) young people, but it is spoken by people of all ethnicities.</p>
<p>This is society influencing language, but it can also work the other way: linguistic findings can also tell you about society. At the highest level, if North American indigenous languages <a href="https://www.linguisticsociety.org/content/what-endangered-language">are becoming endangered</a>, that might be because the cultures that once spoke those languages widely have been overtaken by an English-speaking culture.</p>
<p>Similarly, if an accent feature that was once regional spreads somewhere else, it could be evidence of a culture spreading.</p>
<p>That’s what I found in <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/journal-of-french-language-studies/article/e-in-normandy-the-sociolinguistics-phonology-and-phonetics-of-the-loi-de-position/1B6B9D55EE7865E322D6EEC62D8CD2E9">my research</a> on the regional French of Normandy. I focused on a particular accent feature and found something quite revealing about shifts in French culture – and the types of people setting the agenda.</p>
<p>I analysed recordings of interviews with people from communities at both ends of Normandy: the rural village of La Bonneville, in the west of the region, and urban Darnétal, a suburb of Rouen, in the east. My aim – as for many initial sociolinguistic studies – was to describe interesting aspects of the accent and to see whether there was a correlation between accent differences and social differences.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235017/original/file-20180905-45169-1jghy5k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">La Bonneville.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by author</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For this part of the research, I approached the question through the <a href="https://www.internationalphoneticassociation.org/icphs-proceedings/ICPhS2015/Papers/ICPHS1051.pdf">sociophonetics</a> of the final vowels in <em>café</em> (meaning “café” or “coffee”) and <em>secret</em> (“secret”), when they appeared at the end of words. In the rest of this article, they’ll be referred to as <em>café</em> and <em>secret</em>, meaning not just “those two words”, but “these vowels, in any word where they appear at the end”.</p>
<p>In standard French, these two vowels are “supposed” to be <a href="http://prononciation.tripod.com/eouv.htm">pronounced differently</a>. For a close English equivalent, listen to the difference between the last sound in “hay” (which is like French <em>café</em>) and the <em>e</em> in “red” (which is like the vowel at the end of French <em>secret</em>). But I found that many people, particularly young people, in these parts of Normandy pronounced them the same: at the end of words, both vowels are like <em>café</em>. Older people, especially in Darnétal, may still pronounce them differently.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=451&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/235018/original/file-20180905-45151-1c5fhta.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Darnétal: an urban commune on the edge of the countryside.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by author</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>You might think that a regional accent would get a lot of its features from another language spoken in the same area. But the merger (that’s the technical term) of <em>café</em> and <em>secret</em> doesn’t necessarily <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_language">come from Norman</a> – the language historically spoken in the region. Norman itself has several regional varieties and most (though not all) do pronounce <em>café</em> and <em>secret</em> differently. I propose that the merger might instead come from Paris – and that’s why it tells us something interesting about French society.</p>
<p>The capital city is the centre of French life and culture – including high culture, in which speaking the standard form of the language is very important. It is where the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acad%C3%A9mie_fran%C3%A7aise">Académie Française</a> sits and is dominant in French life generally.</p>
<p>So, for centuries, middle-class Parisian French has been taken as a model of the “best way” to speak French – and that would include pronouncing <em>café</em> and <em>secret</em> differently. But no matter what their reputation, all big cities have linguistic variation. Working-class and young people tend not to speak in a way that others might regard as “cultivated”. Indeed, <a href="http://www.mle-mpf.bbk.ac.uk/Home.html">the Multicultural London English—Multicultural Paris French project</a> recently showed that Parisian French varies socially in some of the same ways as London English.</p>
<p>But, for many French people, the suggestion that Paris could be a source of non-standard language might be a shock. These people can be reassured, though. Parisian speech is still as prestigious as ever. It’s just that the way of speaking that is labelled “prestigious” in Paris is changing – so, when younger people now pick up a prestige way of speaking from there, they are picking up something different to what the older people picked up a few generations ago. This is why we can propose that both older and younger people in Normandy get their accent from Paris, even though they may have different accents.</p>
<h2>The changing face of prestige</h2>
<p>This implies that we need to think about what “prestigious” means here. Prestigious language in sociolinguistics means “whatever a given speaker regards as a model to follow”. So that might actually mean “anything other than the language of the Académie”. In fact, for a young person, that’s quite likely. They are more likely to ascribe prestige to the language of communities like themselves whom they might wish to emulate – in other words, Parisian young people. And <a href="http://www.afcp-parole.org/doc/Archives_JEP/2002_XXIVe_JEP_Nancy/JEP2002/index.htm">some evidence</a> suggests that those Parisian young people are merging <em>café</em> and <em>secret</em>.</p>
<p>This is the kind of thing that sociolinguists normally do: we use society to find out about language. But we can also turn findings like this on their head and use language to find out about society.</p>
<p>So here’s why research into a particular feature of one French accent might be important and interesting even if you don’t speak French – and why social facts about any linguistic feature might matter beyond the place where people speak with that feature. In this case, the <em>café</em>/<em>secret</em> example gives us a glimpse of the changing nature of what French people consider to be “prestigious”. It tells us what they want to emulate. Where once they might have sought to sound like they come from high culture, they now might prefer to emulate a linguistic culture that is more dynamic.</p>
<p>What started as an investigation of a few French vowels, surely a niche interest, ends up contributing evidence about something that might be important to more people: the relationship of capital cities and their hinterland. If people’s language is affected by the society they live in, then we can use language to learn about society – and that’s something that should interest us all.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/87114/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>In 2011-12 Damien Hall received funding from the Leverhulme Trust for a project on French linguistics; however, the research reported here predates that funding. </span></em></p>
Changes in the way we pronounce certain sounds tell us a lot about our changing values.
Damien Hall, Lecturer in Linguistics, Newcastle University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/101465
2018-08-19T20:37:35Z
2018-08-19T20:37:35Z
Can collective euphoria last? A month into France’s World Cup victory
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232272/original/file-20180816-2912-ttmjhe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C18%2C2044%2C1345&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Can football really have an impact on society?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/gnodeuy/41908630870/in/photolist-26RjFTd">Gnodeuy/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>It’s been a month since the French football team won the World Cup for the second time in their history. At the time the response seemed phenomenal. In the streets of France, people hugged and danced with strangers. Over a million people gathered on the Champs-Elysées in Paris and in thousands of other cities and towns across the country. The last time a similar mobilisation had been seen was in response to the <em>Charlie Hebdo</em> terrorist attacks in January 2015.</p>
<p>But now all that can seem like ancient history. Social solidarity has splintered. The French President is mired in controversy over the violent behaviour of one of his employees, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jul/25/emmanuel-macron-says-im-to-blame-over-benalla-assault-scandal">Alexandre Benalla</a>. The country is divided over new anti-immigrant legislation. So were all the predictions that the victory of a multi-ethnic team might create a more inclusive, confident and generous nation – that it might expunge the traumas of terrorism – just wishful thinking?</p>
<p>More generally, is it true, as some of our <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/315752957_Je_suis_Charlie_la_liberte_au-dela_de_l%27egalite_et_la_fraternite_Interpretation_collective_des_attaques_terroristes_de_janvier_2015_en_France_et_expression_online_d%27un_nexus">studies</a> show, that such a sense of unity lasts just a few days, or was the World Cup victory an event that can have longer lasting social significance?</p>
<p>Was the young French World Cup star <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/football/2018/jul/15/france-boast-seductive-future-with-kylian-mbappe-their-leading-man">Kylian Mbappé</a>, right when he declared “for me, football is more than just a sport, it’s enough to see the impact it has on society” – and if so, what is the nature of that impact and how does it come about? In order to answer these questions, let us first consider how collective euphoria arises in the first place, and from there consider whether the effects can outlast the events that generate them.</p>
<h2>Shared fate, shared identity, shared euphoria</h2>
<p>A great theorist of nationhood, Benedict Anderson, made the point that <a href="https://www2.bc.edu/marian-simion/th406/readings/0420anderson.pdf">a nation is an imagined community</a>. One of the ways to “imagine” nation, Anderson suggested, is when we open our newspapers and imagine people across the country doing likewise, reading the same stories and reacting in the same way to stories of national triumphs or defeats.</p>
<p>Since Anderson wrote, less and less of us read a newspaper. Media audiences are increasingly fragmented. It is harder and harder to imagine others reading what we read let alone reacting as we do. But national sport is different. When our country wins at the World Cup, we can assume that others will share our euphoria. We sense a commonality of feeling. What is more, that makes it easier to interact with others, even strangers. Unlike everyday experience, we can enter the local shop that we have visited for years without ever talking to the shopkeeper, say “wasn’t that wonderful last night”, and be confident not only that the shopkeeper will understand what we mean, but also smile in agreement.</p>
<p>This is not mere speculation. Studies on collective emotions show that <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Carmen_Morawetz/publication/259072540_Emotional_entrainment_national_symbols_and_identification_A_naturalistic_study_around_the_men%27s_football_World_Cup/links/02e7e529df3d4543a1000000/Emotional-entrainment-na">emotional entrainment</a>, a feeling of affective attunement and emotional <a href="https://sfp2017.sciencesconf.org/data/pages/Conf_Invit_SFP2017_Abstracts.pdf">synchronization</a> with others during rituals, increases during an international sports event.</p>
<p>Moreover, the effects don’t just end with the event. In an unpublished study conducted in New Zealand by the second author along with colleagues in Belgium, Australia and New Zealand before and after the 2016 Rugby World Cup final which the All Blacks won, people described how their interactions with strangers increased in quality and quantity after the All Blacks’ victory. Their sense of positivity and of well-being improved as much because of their sense of connection with other New Zealanders as because of the result itself.</p>
<p>To put it more formally, national sporting success gives rise to a sense of shared national identity and shared identity transforms social relations between people.</p>
<h2>Frenchness: not just an idea</h2>
<p>As has been shown in a range of research, it leads to greater <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/317901527_La_beaute_est_dans_la_rue_Four_reasons_or_perhaps_five_to_study_crowds">trust, respect, cooperation, helping and solidarity</a>. Moreover, the resultant sense of unity – that everyone is aligning their efforts and pulling together – is a source of collective empowerment. Members of a united group feel confident about their ability to thrive in a troubled world. Finally, the sense of connection in an increasing atomised world combined with the sense of efficacy in an increasingly perplexing world are a source of joy and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/02699931.2015.1015969">excitement</a>.</p>
<p>The key point here is that collective euphoria is not a result of losing identity and losing reason in the crowd, as Le Bon’s 1895 work on classical tradition of <a href="http://envole.net/enote/doc/20080418_Gustave_le_bon_psycho_des_foules_alcan.pdf">crowd psychology</a> would suggest. Rather, such <a href="http://classiques.uqac.ca/classiques/Durkheim_emile/formes_vie_religieuse/formes_elementaires_1.pdf">“effervescence”</a> (to use Durkheim’s 1912 term) reflects the way that an imagined identity is made manifest in the crowd.</p>
<p>For the millions celebrating on the Champs-Elysées, Frenchness was not just an idea. It was an intense shared experience. But what happens to that identity when the celebrations end?</p>
<h2>Defining the nation</h2>
<p>Our own research on collective participation suggests that being part of the crowd can <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/pops.12260">increase</a> the significance of identity and identity related practices in everyday life. Just as being part of a religious crowd impacts religious identity, so being part of a national crowd may increase national identity. The implications of this are neither positive or negative in themselves, it depends on how the identity is understood, and what are the consequences of its definition, and how that definition is used.</p>
<p>There are two dimensions to this. The first has to do with the content of identity: concretely, what does it mean to be French? And what effect did the World Cup have on the way that Frenchness is understood? The answer to this questions is complex and multi-faceted. One key aspect of this, which must not be underplayed, has to do with gender.</p>
<p>As Stanford psychologist and former basketball player <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1995/01/29/style/the-sexes-the-violence-bowl-one-woman-s-view.html">Mariah Burton Nelson wrote in 1994</a>.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“We need to take sports seriously – not the scores or the statistics, but the process. Not to focus on who wins, but on who’s losing.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In 2007 Michael Messner, Professor of Sociology and Gender Studies at the University of Southern California, <a href="http://www.sunypress.edu/p-4464-out-of-play.aspx">noted</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Sport was a male-created homosocial cultural sphere that provided men with psychological separation from the perceived ‘feminisation’ of society, while also providing dramatic symbolic ‘proof’ of the natural superiority of men over women.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It follows that, to define national identity through sport is to reinforce patriarchy across all sectors of society. Thus, whatever the result on the pitch, the result off the pitch is that women become the losers.</p>
<h2>The hidden face of celebrating sport: abuse on women</h2>
<p>This is certainly documented in the statistics on gender violence. As the cameras linger lovingly on World Cup celebrations, the spike in <a href="https://www.francetvinfo.fr/sports/foot/coupe-du-monde/france-championne-du-monde/coupe-du-monde-il-y-a-aussi-les-champions-des-lourds-denonce-une-jeune-femme-apres-une-agression-sexuelle-dans-la-foule-des-champs-elysees_2855497.html">assaults on women</a> is hidden. There is by now ample evidence that attacks on women increase during World Cup tournaments, and not just in France.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
À lire aussi :
<a href="https://theconversation.com/if-england-gets-beaten-so-will-she-the-link-between-world-cup-and-violence-explained-99769">'If England gets beaten, so will she' – the link between World Cup and violence explained</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232277/original/file-20180816-2921-1rkcudf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘If France get beaten, so will she’. Campaign against domestic abuse.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.earthlymission.com/if-your-country-get-beaten-so-will-she/">Earthly mission</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One <a href="http://eprints.lancs.ac.uk/65383/2/cdworldcup.pdf">striking study</a> of domestic abuse in Lancashire (a county of approximately 1.5 million people in Northern England), across the 2002, 2006 and 2010 World Cup tournaments revealed a 26% increase in reports of domestic abuse when England won or drew, and a 38% increase when England lost. Abuse reached its peak when England exited the tournament. To cite a powerful campaign, aimed at raising consciousness of these issues in England during the 2018 World Cup: “If England gets beaten, so will she”. Certainly, any analysis of the impact of the World Cup which fails to address such gender issues will be not only deficient but complicit.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
À lire aussi :
<a href="https://theconversation.com/if-england-gets-beaten-so-will-she-the-link-between-world-cup-and-violence-explained-99769">'If England gets beaten, so will she' – the link between World Cup and violence explained</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Boundaries of identity</h2>
<p>The second dimension of identity definition has to do with the boundaries of identity: concretely, who is regarded as part of the nation and who is not. There is an intimate connection between national inclusion and collective action. The nature of collective responses to events is something like the proverbial canary in the cage, telling us who we do and don’t see as part of the national community. As the data suggests <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/315752957_Je_suis_Charlie_la_liberte_au-dela_de_l%27egalite_et_la_fraternite_Interpretation_collective_des_attaques_terroristes_de_janvier_2015_en_France_et_expression_online_d%27un_nexus">in our studies</a> conducted after the French mobilisations after the terrorist attacks perpetrated in Paris in January 2015, the massive mobilisations after the attack on Charlie Hebdo derived from the fact that the magazine was held up as a quintessential French institution, enshrining free speech, irreverence and anti-authoritarianism, the French “Liberté”.</p>
<p>Millions encapsulated this by bearing and repeating the slogan “Je suis Charlie”. Yet after the attacks on a kosher grocery in Vincennes and on a policewoman – Clarissa Jean-Philippe – in Montrouge, the response was far more muted.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232278/original/file-20180816-2915-qm6kk8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">One of the few memorials (here in Toulouse) to all the victims in 2015.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/archives-toulouse/27856624891">Archives municipales de Toulouse/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These were not seen as attacks on France and Frenchness (thus invoking a response across the nation) but on far narrower categories – Jews and police – whose place in the “nation” appeared to be perceived as far more ambivalent, certainly not emblematic.</p>
<p>On the other hand, the effects of massive affective mobilisations sweep off dissonant voices, as we already know from the unanimous support to the Patriot Act after 9/11, for example. In January 2015, there was little cost for those who failed to respond to the Vincennes or Montrouge attacks. But those who resisted identifying with “Je suis Charlie” were silenced during the mobilisation, excoriated and had <a href="https://hal.archives-ouvertes.fr/hal-01251253/document">their own Frenchness placed in question</a>.</p>
<p>Similarly, in July 2018, staying away from the victory World Cup celebrations and denouncing the many sexist assaults on women during those celebrations was discouraged and frowned upon.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gksxQjW2mpE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Report on sexual assaults during the celebration of the 2018 World Cup victory.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What it means to be French</h2>
<p>But it is not only that collective action reflects a pre-existing sense of national identity. It also serves to form national identity. If the celebrating crowd is the imagined national community made manifest, can we read off from the nature of the crowd (and the team which it celebrates) who is French and what it means to be French?</p>
<p>One of the consequences of the French traditional understandings of the <a href="https://www.cairn.info/load_pdf.php?ID_ARTICLE=ANPSY_124_0575">républicanisme</a> is the insistence that nationhood is single and undifferentiated (assimilationist, rather than <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Serge_Guimond/publication/270883336_Les_representations_du_multiculturalisme_en_France_Decalage_singulier_entre_l%E2%80%99individuel_et_le_collectif/links/54e36d6a0cf282dbed6bdaed/Les-representations-du-multiculturalis">multicultural</a>).</p>
<p>One is either French or one isn’t. As the French ambassador to the US recently put it “<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/jul/22/trevor-noah-world-cup-france-africa">to us, there is no hyphenated identity</a>”. Apparently, one cannot be African-French, one is either African or French.</p>
<p>As a result, it becomes difficult for players – and those in the wider population as well – to celebrate both their heritage and their nationhood. To be fully part of the celebrations, to join fully in the crowd and the nation, they have to give something up. As the <a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/record/2015-05080-022">acculturation literature</a> shows, that creates a serious impediment to integration.</p>
<p>Another tack has been to celebrate the French victory as a <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2018/07/who-wins-when-france-claims-the-world-cup/565508/">victory of immigrants</a>. In a world of increasing anti-immigrant sentiment and agitation, there is something very beguiling about a “good news” story showing how migrants contribute to the nation. What could be more powerful than the fact that 80% of the French team were of African origin to support the argument that immigrants should be welcomed and cherished rather than rejected and feared? But to argue that immigrants are good for the nation is very different from arguing that immigrants are of the nation. To argue that the World Cup is a victory of immigrants is to imply that players whose parents come from Africa are not entirely French.</p>
<p>So, the ability of the World Cup victory to create a kinder vision of Frenchness is, at least in part, constrained by existing conceptions. Either one is French and so not African, or else one is an African immigrant and so not entirely French. Neither option is wholly satisfactory.</p>
<h2>Arguing for the future</h2>
<p>What, then, does all this mean for the future? What will the effect of the World Cup victory be on French society, if any? By now, it is hopefully clear that this is the wrong question – or at least, that it implies too deterministic a view of social processes.</p>
<p>The core of our argument is that the social impact of the World Cup, both in relation to the short term celebrations and longer term effectiveness, is achieved through the way that it shapes national identity.</p>
<p>What the World Cup represents is a resource that can be used to help tell a national story. It is clearly something of relevance to the nation and it is clearly an exemplar national triumph. By weaving the victory into one’s story of France, one clearly gains an edge. At the same time, there are multiple ways of relating how the World Cup relates to France and about how the French triumph was achieved. We need to be well aware of the potential toxicity of some of these narratives – which, for instance, root national achievement in masculinity and physical domination. We need to be equally aware of the potential progress which some narratives can achieve – for instance, by rooting national achievement in the recognition and celebration of diversity. Finally, we need to be aware of how World Cup narratives relate to other discourses of national identity (such as <em>le républicanisme</em>) and how these constrain or else enable what can be said.</p>
<p>There is nothing pre-determined about which narrative will prevail. But one thing is for sure. If we ignore the World Cup and if we refrain from arguing over national identity we abandon the field to others whose political projects may not be our own.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/101465/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andreea Ernst-Vintila received fundings from the Agence nationale de recherche (ANR) for the XTREAMIS «Xenophobia, Radicalism in Europe, Anti-Semitism, Islamophobia – Deradicalisation and Prevention» project.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Stephen Reicher ne travaille pas, ne conseille pas, ne possède pas de parts, ne reçoit pas de fonds d'une organisation qui pourrait tirer profit de cet article, et n'a déclaré aucune autre affiliation que son organisme de recherche.</span></em></p>
For the millions celebrating on the Champs-Elysées last month, Frenchness was not just an idea, it was an intense shared experience. But what happens to that identity when the celebrations end?
Andreea Gruev-Vintila, Maîtresse de conférences en psychologie sociale, Université Paris Nanterre – Université Paris Lumières
Stephen Reicher, Professor of Psychology, University of St Andrews
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/91325
2018-02-07T19:06:14Z
2018-02-07T19:06:14Z
Explainer: the symbolism of The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry cycle
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205015/original/file-20180206-14100-1j179ta.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Detail of 'Smell' c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series
wool and silk, 368 x 322 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The arrival of The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry cycle at the Art Gallery of New South Wales from February 10 presents a rare opportunity to see a work of art revered by specialists and enthusiasts alike. It has been called everything from the “Mona Lisa of the Middle Ages”, to “a national treasure of France”. Comprising six individual pieces and made around the year 1500, tapestries of such quality are rare, and few examples survive.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=703&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=703&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=703&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=883&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=883&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205025/original/file-20180206-14067-ig0p5q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=883&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Smell’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 368 x 322 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Materially, they are breathtaking. Their elaborate millefleur (“thousand flowers”) backgrounds form hypnotic patterns. The sumptuous stuff from which they are woven – wool and silk, dyed with rich, natural dyes – insulate the beholder (literally part of their original function.) They muffle sound, creating an atmosphere of quiet mediation. The air is stilled, and light is enriched by their surfaces, generating a transcendental aura that draws the beholder into their complex internal universe.</p>
<p>The cycle first came to public attention in the middle of the 19th century, discovered languishing in the decaying château de Boussac, located in central France. Gnawed at by rats and threatened by the dank conditions, they were rescued by the <a href="http://www.musee-moyenage.fr/">musée de Cluny</a> in 1882, bought for the princely sum of 25,500 francs.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=623&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=623&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=623&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=783&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=783&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205022/original/file-20180206-14089-1pdefq0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=783&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Touch’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 373 x 358 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The amount paid by the Cluny museum would have represented just a fraction of the original cost of their production, however. Tapestries of such quality would have commanded more than the annual income of all but the richest members of the nobility. More than a battleship. Far more than Michelangelo was paid to paint the Sistine ceiling.</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly then, the patron of the cycle came from a noble family with close ties to the French monarchy – the Le Viste. This is made clear from the heraldic symbols shown in the tapestries themselves. They were most likely <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/taps/hd_taps.htm">designed</a> by the “Master of Anne of Brittany” (so called because he designed a <a href="http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b52500984v/f14.item.zoom">book of hours</a> for the French queen, Anne of Brittany), a preeminent artist of the day.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205027/original/file-20180206-14089-q0fvid.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Detail of ‘Taste’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 377 x 466 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Though we might fixate on the artist who designed the composition, tapestries were made collaboratively, and the Lady and the Unicorn cycle was probably woven in the Southern Netherlands, not France, for the standard of weaving was higher there.</p>
<p>Given the effort and investment required to produce them, it is little surprise that the subject of the tapestries is complex – something worthy of more than a mere glance. The meaning of the cycle has been much debated. Experts now (generally) agree that they present a meditation on earthly pleasures and courtly culture, offered through an allegory of the senses.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205024/original/file-20180206-14104-19mms7i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Detail of ‘Taste’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 377 x 466 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Five of the tapestries each depict one of the senses (Touch, Taste, Smell, Hearing and Sight.) Each shows a woman (the “Lady” of the title) performing some action intended to exemplify the sense in question. In “Smell” the Lady is presented with a dish of carnations. In ‘Hearing’ she plays at an organ. In “Sight”, she holds a mirror, which reflects the image of a unicorn that rests in her lap.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=574&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=574&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=574&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=721&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=721&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205017/original/file-20180206-14083-1h8i2e1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=721&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Sight’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 312 x 330 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Each of these gestures is presented with much charm and grace, conveyed through gently curving lines that show no sharp transitions. Yet, all is not as peaceful as it may seem. For there is a sixth tapestry. Though it is clear that all six are meant to form a unit, as each displays the same basic format and figures, the sixth work breaks the pattern of the other five.</p>
<p>Here, the Lady is depicted returning jewels (worn in the other tapestries) to a casket. She stands before a tent emblazoned with the words Mon Seul Désir (“my only desire”.) Her action does not connect with sensory or empirical experience, as with the other five, but is instead driven by some alternate force – cognition, moral reasoning, or emotion.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205014/original/file-20180206-14100-6k8coo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=620&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Mon Seul Desir’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 377 x 473 cm. Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A sixth sense</h2>
<p>A sixth sense is represented in this sixth tapestry, which presents a further way of knowing the world. This sense seems to have not one, but multiple dimensions. Intellectually, it may be thought of as common sense, or “internal” sense. Morally, it may be understood to encapsulate neo-platonic philosophy’s emphasis on the soul as the source of beauty (read the “good”.) In terms of courtly rhetoric, the sixth sense may be thought of as the heart, the source of courtly love and the home of complex or competing forces – free will, carnal passion, desire.</p>
<p>It is this sixth sense that leads the Lady to return her jewels to her casket. The gesture may be read as a sign of her virtue, an expression of the dominance of her reason over the physical sensations she experiences in the other tapestries, or, of the will as the centre of being. In this interpretation, the phrase Mon Seul Désir could be read not as “my sole desire” but “by my own free will”.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205021/original/file-20180206-14096-xysce4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Detail of ‘Mon Seul Desir’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 377 x 473 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This multi-layered approach to interpreting the tapestries is echoed in other, localised features. For instance, the unicorn, which is represented in all six tapestries, embodies various, overlapping meanings. Unicorns were common heraldic animals, and frequently appear in courtly literature. Since the second century they were understood to represent chastity or purity. Certainly, this meaning connects with the reading of the Mon Seul Désir tapestry offered above.</p>
<p>The unicorn also acts as a canting emblem – that is, a pun on the name of the patron. Le Viste may be pronounced more like “Le Vite” in French, meaning fast. Fast, like a unicorn.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/205019/original/file-20180206-14089-9f21am.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=533&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Detail of ‘Sight’ c1500, from The lady and the unicorn series.
wool and silk, 312 x 330 cm
Musée de Cluny – Musée national du Moyen Âge, Paris</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo © RMN-GP / M Urtado</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The inclusion of the unicorn also contributes to the sense that the tapestries intentionally encourage a viewer to evaluate types of knowledge or understanding. Representations of unicorns (both past and present, it could be argued) raise questions regarding how we come to know, and how empirical knowledge exists alongside tradition, culture, imagination, and creative expression.</p>
<p>More than a series of objects with remarkable aesthetic, historical and economic significance, the Lady and The Unicorn tapestries offer an opportunity to confront how different forms of understanding and experience overlap to form beliefs, shape perspectives, and precipitate action. </p>
<p><em>The Lady and the Unicorn tapestries will be at <a href="https://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/exhibitions/the-lady-and-the-unicorn/">the Art Gallery of NSW from February 10 to 24 June</a>. The gallery is mounting a <a href="https://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/exhibitions/the-lady-and-the-unicorn/related-events/">series of programs</a> around the tapestries.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/91325/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mark De Vitis does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The Lady and the Unicorn tapestries, woven around 1500, have been called the ‘Mona Lisa of the Middle Ages’. While they make for breathtaking viewing, their threads are encoded with much meaning.
Mark De Vitis, Lecturer in Art History , University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/89978
2018-01-12T13:38:58Z
2018-01-12T13:38:58Z
#Metoo or #Moi non plus? How French feminists are divided over Catherine Deneuve’s letter
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/201677/original/file-20180111-101498-cg9aad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">EPA-EFE/Ian Langsdon</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2018/01/10/europe/catherine-deneuve-france-letter-metoo-intl/index.html">recent publication</a> in French newspaper, Le Monde, of an open letter by female writers and actors in defence of men’s right to pick up women has left many people bemused. The letter, signed by 100 women including celebrated French actress Catherine Deneuve, said that the #metoo movement had gone too far and that it “chains women to the status of eternal victim”. </p>
<p>It’s not the first time this decade that globalising Anglo-US feminism and other national cultures have found themselves singing from different hymn-sheets. In 2011, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/07/world/europe/07france.html">charges of sexual harassment</a> against then IMF boss Dominique Strauss-Kahn elicited significantly less outrage in France than in Anglophone countries. At home the politician was publicly defended by such well-known figures as self-proclaimed philosopher Bernard Henry-Lévy, the respected criminal attorney and former minister of justice Robert Badinter, former socialist minister of culture Jack Lang – and even feminist <a href="http://sisyphe.org/spip.php?article720">Elisabeth Badinter</a>, who has long scolded some French feminists for aligning themselves with a “victimising” American feminism.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, much of the criticism of DSK in the US media was difficult to extricate from nationalistically inflected expressions of cultural superiority, over which France and the US have a long history of coming to blows. The allusions in the recent French letter to puritanism, a concept synonymous with American values in France, suggest anxieties about protecting a way of life perceived to be under threat as a whole.</p>
<p>As French critic <a href="http://www.alterinfo.net/Pudeur-et-libertinage--Retour-sur-le-foulard-abusivement-appele-voile_a18453.html">Noël Burch has noted</a>, the tradition of <em>libertinage</em> is “an element of our cultural identity recognised the world over and no doubt the envy of many”. Writing in 2008, Burch suggested that an attachment to the cult of seduction motivated the signing of another document by several of the same women behind the present letter, whom Burch dubbed “literary salon feminists” – a petition published in Elle magazine in support of the ban of the Muslim hijab in French schools. </p>
<p>As he pointed out, what is revealing is that many of its signatories also lent their name shortly afterwards to a protest against the regulation of cruising in France, with the result that these issues arguably became de facto interlinked in public perception. What these women seemingly objected to in both cases was any threat to women’s and girls’ availability for “legitimate” public sexualisation in their everyday lives.</p>
<p>Among those involved in all these campaigns have been celebrity writers of sexually explicit novels, Catherine Millet and Catherine Robbe-Grillet, who were among five women responsible for the <a href="https://www.worldcrunch.com/opinion-analysis/full-translation-of-french-anti-metoo-manifesto-signed-by-catherine-deneuve">text of the <em>Le Monde</em> letter</a>. Further noteworthy signatories of the Elle petition referenced by Burch included public intellectual Marcella Iacub and “extreme” filmmaker Catherine Breillat. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"951740681160155136"}"></div></p>
<p>Iacub is well-known for having championed her former lover DSK in a memoir entitled <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/shortcuts/2013/feb/27/beauty-beast-dominique-strauss-kahn-ban">Beauty and the Beast</a>, in which she defended his “porc” (literally, pig) tendencies as vital and liberating in their very amorality. This is a somewhat ironic formulation when we consider the emergence, post-Weinstein, of the anti-harassment campaign <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/balancetonporc?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Ehashtag">#Balancetonporc</a> meaning roughly “shop chauvinist pigs” (a brilliant pun on the classic pavement leer “balance ton corps” or “swing your body”). </p>
<p>Breillat is relevant to today’s debate through her professional association with the Italian actress <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000782/">Asia Argento</a>. Argento starred in the director’s 19th-century period drama, Une Vieille Maîtresse (The Last Mistress) and is one of the most prominent figures to have <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/from-aggressive-overtures-to-sexual-assault-harvey-weinsteins-accusers-tell-their-stories">accused Harvey Weinstein of rape</a>. Une Vieille Maîtresse is the most explicit of three literary adaptations in which Argento has embodied libertinage in the historical contexts with which it is primarily associated – the others being La Reine Margot and Marie Antoinette, in both of which she plays a courtesan.</p>
<p>Argento’s case highlights the way in which life can imitate art, which is why it matters a great deal precisely how women are understood by cultural narratives as well as in professional and other social contexts, in the entertainment industry and beyond. It also serves as a reminder that France is not the only country to have pushed back against the present moment’s calls for change, emblematised by #MeToo. The Italian press’s reaction to Argento’s accusations has been so virulent that she has been forced to <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/films/news/harvey-weinstein-sexual-assault-asia-argento-flees-italy-public-condemn-speaking-out-a8012511.html">flee the country</a>.</p>
<h2>Golden Globes</h2>
<p>Nor, of course, have most French feminists sided with the group given a platform in Le Monde. France’s secretary of state for equality, Marlène Shiappa, as well as the former minister for women’s rights Laurence Rossignol and militant feminist Catherine De Haas and the organisation Osez le Féminisme (Dare to be Feminist) have been among critics of its position.</p>
<p>Feminism is far from being a monolithic body in any context – and questions of sexual “freedom” expressed through display and seduction have often proved controversial not only in France, as for instance demonstrated by the divisive issues raised by the 2011 <a href="https://torontoist.com/2017/08/putting-sex-worker-rights-front-centre-slutwalk-toronto/">Toronto SlutWalk</a>. </p>
<p>Disconcertingly out of touch though the “salon feminist” position may be, you don’t need to be a puritan to recognise the wisdom of the biblical doctrine of “Let s/he who is without sin cast the first stone” in these matters. It’s easy to be a hypocrite if you aren’t careful.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/89978/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mary Harrod does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Many prominent women are concerned that France’s long history of ‘libertinage’ is threatened by what they see as a witchhunt against men.
Mary Harrod, Assistant Professor in French Film, University of Warwick
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.