WTF?!--What the French

by Olivier Magny

  Strangely, in a country where the government employs more than 25 percent of the workforce, they do—one must admit—have a point.

  Useful tip: France is indeed a great place to spend money.

  Sound like a French person: “Et l’appartement du Boulevard Beaumarchais, du coup, c’est ta soeur qui l’a gardé? Bah non, on a dû le vendre.” (What about the Boulevard Beaumarchais apartment? Did your sister get it? Well, no, we had to sell it.)

  FAST FOOD

  France is now home to 1,285 McDonald’s restaurants (affectionately dubbed “McDo”).* Every day 1.8 million McDonald’s meals are served in a country with a total population of approximately 66 million people. In terms of density, this means that France has 70 percent more McDonald’s restaurants per square meter than the United States.

  I hear Francophiles lament: “But WHY? France has such great food—why would anyone eat at McDonald’s?”

  The answer is simple: if you want to have a warm meal, enjoy Wi-Fi, sit down, and spend less than eight or nine euros for it, you hardly have a choice in France.

  The culture of fast food in France has grown absolutely massive. And the Golden Arches is not the only player on this market. More than ten thousand kebab restaurants sprinkle the French territory. Plus, of course, the countless boulangeries that have expanded their traditional bread and pastries offer to include sandwiches and formules midi (lunch menu), which are set lunch deals generally consisting of a sandwich, a drink, and a pastry.

  As much as foreigners like to think of French people taking hours off and drinking profuse amounts of wine for lunch, that has become a rarity. The average amount of time French people dedicate to lunch is thirty-one minutes, and the average amount of money spent: €7.20 (which won’t exactly get you a feast and multiple bottles of wine).* In 2012, the fast-food industry was a €34 billion market in France, thus accounting for 54 percent of its total restaurant business.

  Simply put, in France these days, fast food is simply more popular than traditional restaurants.

  Useful tip: When in France, do yourself a favor and avoid fast food. There are so many better options!

  Sound like a French person: “On se fait un McDo?” (Wanna go to McDonald’s?)

  SLOW FOOD

  Thankfully enough, France is still home to thousands of lovely restaurants. And with (allegedly) food-loving Frenchies and millions of tourists streaming into the country in search of some French food, you would think that business would be good for most French restaurateurs.

  You would be wrong.

  In 2013, every day three new restaurants opened their doors in Paris (which happens to be not only the richest city in France, but also the most touristed city in the world), but, in that same day, five went out of business. This means that every single day Paris lost two restaurants.*

  Now, what about outside Paris, then? Well, outside Paris, France is well-known for its numerous bistros, cafés, bars, and brasseries. Those have been shutting down at a rate of six per day over the past few years.* While in 1960 France boasted over two hundred thousand of these places of convivialité, we’re down to a little more than thirty thousand.

  While it requires a prosperous population for a country to sustain its restaurant-scene excellence, it does not have to be that way at home. At home, anyone can cook great food: all it requires is time, money, and interest. In a typical French household, weekday meals differ from weekend meals. Weekday meals are rather simple (think salad, pasta, cheese or yogurt, bread, and a piece of fruit), and the French do also love their frozen food—the market for savory frozen food is worth €3.5 billion!* On weekends, Saturday is typically a ramp-up day leading to the crowning meal of the French food week: Sunday lunch. Traditionally, French families gather for lunch on Sunday and treat themselves to a nice (and frequently long) meal. In Paris, where many yuppies don’t have a family of their own or live far from them, the family déjeuner du dimanche has been supplanted by brunch with friends. Interestingly enough, Sunday brunch in France does not have the same boozy connotation it does in the Anglo world!

  Now, you may wonder: what are the three most popular foods in France? Thinking steak-frites, cassoulet, and magret de canard? Try pasta, sandwiches, and pizza (in that order). Funnily enough, two of the three foods the French consume the most are originally Italian. To give you an idea, two million pizzas (typically frozen) are consumed each day in France. In the world, only Americans eat more pizza than the French. In fact, the French eat more pizza (per capita and in total) than the Italians!

  On the good-news front, the rise of international cooking shows (Top Chef, MasterChef) has fueled new interest in food over the past few years. The encouraging change in the perception of organic food is also a very positive element. But while there are promising changes, if you want to understand the French food culture today, one thing is for sure: for most French people, it has much more to do with pizza, kebabs, and burgers than it does with superior gastronomy.

  Useful tip: When picking a restaurant, always make sure there are a few stickers saying the place was recommended by some guidebooks (even if those guidebooks don’t sound familiar to you). It’s a great way to maximize the odds of finding a small gem.

  Sound like a French person: “Tous les ans, j’achète mon vin d’un petit propriétaire. Dé-li-cieux!” (Every year, I buy my wine from a small winemaker. De-li-cious!)

  THE PRESS

  French press is not just a tool to make coffee. It’s also a term that designates a number of virtually bankrupt media companies surviving primarily thanks to government subsidies.

  Now, saying the French government controls the press simply because it gives over half a billion euros each year to French media outlets would be a tad excessive, wouldn’t it?*

  A more correct statement would therefore be that the French government, along with corporate interests, control the press in France. See, maybe the defense contractor that owns Le Figaro (Groupe Dassault—care for a fighter jet, anyone?) has an interest in France going to war, but the party in office doesn’t. Now, that’s a relief: checks and balances. That’s what a real democracy is about. Freedom, baby!

  Sadly, most French people don’t like to take that step back and look into who’s paying and who’s benefiting. Granted, they’re not exactly encouraged to do so when they turn on their TV or open up their newspaper. Consequently, most stick comfortably to the reassuring view that some publications are super à droite (very right-wing) while others are vachement à gauche (very left-wing). Left, right, right, left: the soothing narrative of Western democracies is alive and well in France. Left . . . right . . . right . . . left . . . Marching mindlessly forward.

  A wonderful homage to the undying French common sense, however, is the constant collapse in sales figures of all French newspapers and magazines. Little by little, more and more French people are starting to sense that, partial report after partial report, biased story after biased story, fabrication after fabrication, distraction after distraction, the world depicted by their favorite journalists is not quite congruent with the one they seem to live in. So they slowly stop spending their money to be dis- or misinformed. Most don’t even think about it. It just happens. Loss of interest.

  But these uninterested citizens are not going to be let off the hook that easily. Even if they don’t buy magazines or newspapers, TV is still keen to help French people with their thinking. And once again, your remarkably involved French state is never far, operating in full nothing less than eleven TV channels.* Should you decide to turn off your TV, you’ll still have to dodge the hundred-plus state-controlled radio stations.* Fun fact? Only China has more state-controlled and -sponsored media than France.*

  The void left by the growing disconnect between what the French now call les médias mainstream and the general public is slowly but surely being filled, in France like in most Western c
ountries, by a number of alternative media outlets. It’s a very thrilling phenomenon to witness a growing fraction of the population making an active decision not to listen to corporate- or state-controlled media (amusingly dubbed les merdias, a pun on merde, “crap,” and média) and instead turn to investigative journalism and grassroots movements.

  If you want to read more alternative media, here are a few names worth looking into:

  In French:

  cercledesvolontaires.fr, metatv.org, agenceinfolibre.fr, lesmouton senrages.fr, latelelibre.fr, jovanovic.com, tvlibertes.com, lesbrind herbes.org, preuves-par-images.fr, informaction.info, voltairenet .org, claireseveracrebellion.com, egaliteetreconciliation.fr, lelibre penseur.org

  In English:

  vigilantcitizen.com, drudgereport.com, presstv.ir, boilingfrogs post.com, wearechange.org

  As the audience of these sites grows, discussions on- and off-line evolve. New elements get discussed; new questions are posed. The official historical, social, and political narratives are trembling under the weight and significance of this renewed discourse. Consequently, in France, like in most Western countries, freedom of speech and anonymity online are being attacked by lawmakers. It was recently made fully lawful for the government to spy on its citizens.* Rest assured, though: it is for our own good. Who needs free press, privacy, critical thinking, and open discussions anyway?

  Useful tip: The no-news diet is very much worth trying.

  Sound like a French person: “Je regarde quasiment plus la télé, ils me tapent sur le système, tous!” (I almost never watch TV anymore . . . can’t stand that whole crowd anymore!)

  LA CHANSON FRANÇAISE

  When referring to les grands chanteurs français—France’s great singers—two names come to mind: Jacques Brel and Georges Brassens, collectively known as “Brel et Brassens.” Some would add a third name to that prestigious hall of fame: Léo Ferré, known simply as Ferré.

  Jacques Brel (who was actually Belgian), Georges Brassens, and Léo Ferré indeed embody the highest level of this most French of traditions. Which tradition is that? In short, a tradition of sung poetry, where eminently talented lyricists compose timeless texts that strive to touch the souls of the people, reaching beyond social and cultural differences to gracefully narrate the joys, doubts, and sorrows of the human condition. La génération des Brel, Brassens, Ferré, as it’s often referred to, was a beautiful gift to all French speakers after the tragedies of World War II. To this day, nobody has surpassed these masters, who remain admired by most.

  Care to listen to these masters and their contemporaries? Just check them out on YouTube:

  “La chanson des vieux amants” by Jacques Brel

  “Chanson pour l’Auvergnat” by George Brassens

  “Avec le temps” by Léo Ferré

  “Le métèque” by George Moustaki

  “Ma plus belle histoire d’amour” by Barbara

  In the late 1970s and the 1980s, a new generation of French singers came to life, among them Michel Sardou, Alain Souchon, Laurent Voulzy, Michel Berger, and Julien Clerc. While the artists of the previous generation were the full package—fantastic writers, great melodists, and touching performers—these newcomers typically had only one or two of these talents. Their hits remain well-known pop songs in France to this day and countless baby boomer ladies still view these men as irresistibly charming.

  Check these out on YouTube:

  “Foule sentimentale” by Alain Souchon

  “Je vole” by Michel Sardou

  “Femmes, je vous aime” by Julien Clerc

  The 1990s saw the birth of a new movement referred to as la nouvelle chanson française—the new French song. Like any musical movement, it has both fans and detractors. Chatting about music with French people, you will most likely witness someone erupt at some point:

  Ah, Vincent Delerm, j’peux pas l’blairer, putain. Il sait pas chanter. C’est insupportable.

  Argh, Vincent Delerm—I can’t stand that guy. He can’t even sing. I hate it.

  This generation is indeed not characterized by vocal prowess. Your shy fourteen-year-old nephew with his uncertain changing voice would probably own a “singer” like Benjamin Biolay. Any karaoke night, any song. Bring it!

  Benjamin, stop trying to look melancholic—you’re about to get owned by a fourteen-year-old.

  The men in this generation of artists do not exactly scream testosterone. But if the sensitive, puny, doubt-ridden, wondering French type is your thing, then you’re in luck. When compared with the illustrious generation of postwar forefathers, most French people would agree that there is one who can genuinely, if not rival, at least remind them of the greats: Renan Luce.

  Check these singers out on YouTube:

  “Quatrième de couverture” by Vincent Delerm

  “Je suis de celles” by Bénabar

  “Des ménagements” by Aldebert

  “Je suis une feuille” by Renan Luce

  Since it is so focused on lyrics, the tradition of la chanson française may be somewhat lost on most foreigners, who simply reckon that French music is just as bad as French wine is good. Fair enough.

  When it comes to comparing musical traditions, the general understanding in France is that:

  L’anglais est quand même vachement plus musical comme langue.

  English is actually much more musical a language—no question about it.

  Then, if you’re in luck, somebody will end the conversation with a jab:

  Ouais, parce que si tu traduis les paroles des chansons en anglais, tu pleures. Même les Beatles: “Yellow Submarine” . . . Putain, mais ça fait, “On vit tous dans un grand sous-marin jaune, grand sous-marin jaune . . .” Sérieusement, ça vole pas très haut.

  Yeah, ’cause if you translate the lyrics of songs written in English, it’s disastrous. Even the Beatles: “We all live in a yellow submarine . . .” Seriously, not exactly impressive stuff.

  In an effort to share some of the best chansons in French or by French or French-speaking artists of recent years, I’ve taken the liberty of compiling a list of personal recommendations for your personal enjoyment. If you look them up on YouTube, simply prepare to witness serious puniness:

  2000s:

  “Formidable” by Stromae

  “Mec à la cool” by Manu Larrouy

  “Elisa” by Volo

  “Salut marin” by Carla Bruni

  “Souvenir de ma mère” by Gordon Sanchez

  “De cap tà l’immortèla” by Nadau

  “Midi 20” by Grand Corps Malade

  “Hip Hop” by Hocus Pocus (featuring Procussions)

  “L’homme du moment” by Alexis HK

  “T’es beau” by Pauline Croze

  “Mama Sam” by M

  “Dans 150 ans” by Raphaël

  “Belle à en crever” by Olivia Ruiz

  “Shaünipul” by Nosfell

  “La ferme” by Les Fatals Picards

  “Les limites” by Julien Doré

  “La vida tombola” by Manu Chao

  1990s:

  “Vous avez l’heure?” by Louise Attaque

  “Les yeux de ma mère” by Arno

  “Out of Time Man” by Mano Negra

  1980s:

  “La médaille” by Renaud

  “Avoir et être” by Yves Duteil

  “Quelque chose de Tennessee” by Johnny Hallyday

  “Je suis venu te dire” by Serge Gainsbourg

  “Les corons” by Pierre Bachelet

  1970s:

  “Les gens qui doutent” by Anne Sylvestre

  “Mon vieux” by Daniel Guichard

  “Mon frère” by Maxime Le Forestier

  “Lily” by Pierre Perret

  “Il est libre Max” by Hervé Cristiani

  1960s
:

  “Nathalie” by Gilbert Bécaud

  “Aragon et Castille” by Boby Lapointe

  “Milord” by Édith Piaf

  “La Tendresse” by Bourvil

  Useful tip: Did you know that Manu Chao is actually French?

  Sound like a French person: “J’écoute un peu de tout.” (I listen to a bit of everything.)

  RADARS

  Travel to New Orleans on Mardi Gras and you’ll find an entire city filled with people asking to be flashed. Travel to France and you’ll find an entire population railing against it.

  For the verb flasher bears a very different meaning on this side of the pond. Se faire flasher means getting photographed and fined by a radar on the side of the road.

  Not as fun.

  When you drive in France, the odds of getting photographed and fined by a radar speed trap have increased exponentially over the past decade. A decade ago, radars were occasional affairs handled by cops, and getting caught was most likely both bad luck and well deserved.

  Ever since, the French government decided to wage a very French war: an unlosable, enemyless war. A war in favor of safe driving.

  Since the 1970s, the death toll on the road had been consistently dropping, due to the significant and continual improvements in the quality of cars, roads, first-aid responsiveness, air bags, road lighting, and so on. That trend was not going anywhere, and as technology progressed, numbers were bound to keep falling. That’s when French politicians bravely decided to step in.

  The opportunity of taking quality-of-life-blasting measures while manipulating the general public and finding that elusive chance to take credit for something that has absolutely nothing to do with you or your actions is a bit of a dream come true for a French politician.