AND ANOTHER THING
Stop this Frog-bashing! They can teach us a thing or two
PAUL JOHNSON
The French are rightly complaining about what France-Soir calls, `francophobie: une violente charge de la presse anglo-sax- onne contre la France'. The occasion of the World Cup, and the strikes which have marked it, have tempted most of our tabloids and some of the broadsheets to behave in a disgustingly xenophobic fash- ion, and such Yank papers as Time and Newsweek have not been far behind in bru- talise. It is childish and unfair, Ordinary French people cannot help the strikes that plague them. Like the British in the 1970s, they are innocent victims of an organised labour neurosis which one hopes will even- tually be cured just as completely as it has been over here. They deserve sympathy, not abuse.
France is going through a difficult time adjusting to a world where her political and cultural influence is waning. Thoughtful French people are distressed by the degen- eration of the entity to which they are most attached, their language, under the impact of Anglo-American populism. Last week I caught Le Monde using the verb stopper in a headline, though there is a perfectly good French word, arreter. Even a country imper- meable is now un barbour. There is a cur- rent dearth of good French poets, novelists, composers and artists, though it is only fair to say that the most successful drama in the world today, playing to capacity in a score of countries, is Art, written by a franco- phone lady. (As it happens, the foreign rights are owned by that hugely lovable Scot, Sean Connery, who was talked into buying them by his shrewd Franco-Italian wife, Micheline.) And the cowardly French government of M. Jospin is encouraging decline by pushing for shorter working hours and sending inspectors to spy on executives who work overtime, which is now, in certain circumstances, a criminal offence in France.
But the heart of France is sound, and I think its head is too, most of the time. The vast majority of the French are industrious, ingenious and resourceful, always percep- tive and often far-sighted, capable of great kindness and enthusiasm. A friend whose son has just been married in the Dordogne described to me how the neighbours went out of their way to make the occasion mem- orable — the municipal band played, their children in traditional costume danced in the streets to entertain the foreign guests, and all was joy and courtesy, as magnificent local produce and the grand wines of the region were consumed in prodigious quan- tities.
I owe a lot to the French, and the friends I made in France in the early 1950s. I com- pleted my education in Paris, learning about furniture and porcelain, architecture and otfevrerie, and all the mysteries of high- quality printing and lithography. Clever French girls taught me about romance, some of them having been instructed in the art by their mothers, maintaining a genera- tion-to-generation tradition of skill which goes back to the Middle Ages. As C.S. Lewis once said to me, the French civilised our animal instincts — one of the themes of his Allegory of Love. (Not that the old Ulster puritan had much personal experi- ence: the sum total of what he knew about women could have been written on the back of a low-value Nicaraguan postage stamp.) There is still more to see in France than in any other country. The French practised the art of building cathedrals and châteaux with more grace than any other society. We all know about the riches of Paris but scores of provincial towns are full of delights, not least their art galleries, which built up fine collections when the aristocra- cy was plundered in the 1790s. I do not think the French are quite as creative as the Italians, but they are more systematic and therefore more productive. In the pantheon of national brilliance, I rate the north Ger- mans first in philosophy, the English in poetic drama, the Russians in fiction, the Dutch and Flemish in painting, the Italians in sculpture, the Spanish in moral theology, the south Germans in music and the Amer- icans in popular entertainment. The French I rate joint winners with the Italians in architecture, and first in furniture and dec- oration of all kinds.
However, in all the other arts the French A pity – one would have liked to see Mr Branson in a tie.' are a clear second or at the lowest a power- ful third. Their cultural achievement is uniquely broad-based. When it comes to the art of living, which includes all the fine and applied arts, as well as literature, music and drama — and sex, gastronomy and ho" to refine sensuality too — the French are undisputed world leaders. The French can be selfish and even pettY, especially when their pride is aroused. TheY are also, and more usually, capable of high- minded magnanimity and intense loyalty. !)' Frenchman does not offer close friendship easily, but once given it is never withdrawn, however foul the weather. A Frenchwoman who loves you will defend you till death. The French are sometimes quixotically for- giving and heap coals of fire on your head. I have experienced this twice in recent years. When I disparaged a book by their greatest living historian, Emmanuel de le ROY Ladurie, he responded by giving a generous review to a book of mine. And when, in this column, I rebuked the French severely for their shortcomings three or four years ago, their reaction was to republish the article uncut, and elegantly translated, in their most distinguished publication, La Revue des Deux Mondes. For that gracious return of good for evil, I gave thanks by saying a, contrite prayer to Ste Jeanne d'Arc. And that reminds me: the French produce the most wounding mockers of religion, but they also produce some of the noblest saints. Scratch a French atheist, I always say, and you will soon find, beneath the cynical carapace, someone who longs to love God and His work. Recently, disgusted with the frivolity of the British media, I have taken to reading Le Monde every day. Indeed, together with the Wall Street Journal and the Herald Tn- bune, it is now my chief source of interna- tional news. Le Monde is undergoing a revival, and if you want to know what is really happening in places like Indonesia, Nigeria, Russia or China — and some of us do — it is the paper to read. It deals with other important matters too, at the length and in the sophisticated detail they require. Thus last week it devoted over 10,000 words to changes in the French family, or what it called, characteristically, les muta- tions de la cellule familiale. They respect the intellect, those Frogs. They can teach us lessons in how to be a serious people again. Vive la France!
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