When I first saw Casablanca, on television late night movie program, I was so caught up in the story that when La Marseillaise was played, I stood and 'sang' the anthem (knew the music but not the lyrics), tears streaming down my face.
I have loved France (or the idea of France, perhaps more accurately) ever since. Liberty, Equality and Brother(Sister)hood were ideals I naively thought the US was founded on, too. The intervening years have shown me that we have far to go, as does every other nation on Earth, but tonight I will listen to La Marseillaise and hope for peace and recovery for Paris, for France and for the rest of the world.
I don't know what else to do.
10 comments:
The lyrics to that anthem? Don't look 'em up.
However, John Oliver let loose.
Two days after a series of coordinated strikes across Paris left at least 129 people dead, Last Week Tonight host John Oliver ripped into the attackers with stirring, pointed, and profanity laced monologue on Sunday night.
“Look, it’s hardly been 48 hours and much is still unknown, but there are a few things we can say for certain,” Oliver said. “And this is when it actually helps to be on HBO, where those things can be said without restraint, because after the many necessary and appropriate moments of silence, I’d like to offer you a moment of premium cable profanity.”
He then blasted the attackers, calling them “gigantic f—ing a–holes – unconscionable flaming a–holes – possibly working with other f—ing a–holes, definitely working in service of an ideology of pure a–holery.”
Oliver added, “And this goes almost without saying, f— these a–holes. F– them, if I may say, sideways.”
Oliver then discussed why the goal of the attacks was destined to fail. “France is going to endure. And I’ll tell you why: If you’re in a war of culture and lifestyle with France, good f—ing luck! Because go ahead, bring your bankrupt ideology; they’ll bring Jean-Paul Sartre, Edith Piaf, fine wine, Gauloises cigarettes, Camus, Camembert, madeleines, macarons, Marcel Proust, and the f—ing croquembouche. The croquembouche! You’ve just brought a philosophy of rigorous self-abnegation to a pastry fight, my friends! You are f—ed! That is a French freedom tower!”
Good grief! In all these years, I've never looked up the lyrics.
Wish I hadn't now. (I know, I know - I was forewarned!) Bit by bit, my innocence gets flushed into the sewer
Yes, but if someone says 'don't look...' what do most of us want to do?
It needs must be said, I have heard quite a bit of embarrassment volunteered by French people about the tenor of the lyrics, even though most of them keep themselves in ignorance of the even more extreme verses, such as the one which they little children are supposed to sing, about how they will happily share their fathers' coffins sooner than shame them. It's not even as though it's easy to sing, the tempo and pitch is downright weird and difficult, until they get to the 'aux armes, citoyens! Marchons...' which everyone generally feels a bit more comfortable with.
I do love that John Oliver quote, and appreciate your solidarity, if it's my place to do so.
Ah, you see! Pandora rules, OK! :)
Lyrics apart, it's a rousing tune as are most revolutionary ones. There was a "prearranged" football match between England and France at Wembley yesterday. Immense police presence but very emotional. The Tricouleur was everywhere and the whole stadium stood and sang the Marseillaise (it was projected onto overhead screens).
England won 2-0 I almost wish it could have been a draw!
First, Avus has expressed why I still stand and hum the lyrics of the Marseillaise, why it brings me to tears - not just the tune, but my emotional attachment to the country, which I cannot explain since I've never been outside the borders of North America. I take the words, now that I know them, in the rhetorical style and context of the times in which it was written. After all, our national anthem was written to the tune of a pub/drinking song, which explains why it is difficult to sing, too. Maybe one has to be a bit drunk to carry it off. I don't have the vocal range to sing it well, either, drunk or stone-cold sober.
Let me be clear, too, about my "innocence," written tongue-in-cheek. Perhaps I should have written 'ignorance' instead. I knew Z was teasing me, which is why I looked up the lyrics; which were meant to stir the blood of the common folk and make them take up arms (hayforks, axes, clubs, et cetera) and join the revolution.
I was living in New Orleans when I first saw the movie Casablanca, a teenager recently transplanted there and steeped (via classroom instruction) in the co-history of France and the US, specifically NO history. The influence of French culture was everywhere in New Orleans. It was easy to fall in love with France, or at least the view of France I was seeing all around me. I think the stories of the valiant French underground's battles against the Nazis stirred my blood, long before I watched Casablanca. Now that I've read the lyrics to La Marseillaise, that scene in Rick's café is all the more poignant. It was an international call to arms to run the bastards out of town, however you wanted to define town. Even though I was 14 or 15 at the time and knew how WWII ended, I felt like joining the fight, too.
I still do, but the fight has changed and old military tactics might not be as effective as before - in fact, I think we're seeing the truth of that now. I don't know how to fight this war, and it is a war. All I can do right now is wrap my heart in the colors, stand and hum the anthem.
Thank you all for dropping by, and for your kind comments on my previous post. I deeply value your friendship, one and all.
Oh, Crow! I thought of that scene from Casablanca too!
I LOVE that movie.
If people don't know it, it's more important to know the context than the lyrics, in this case:
A group of Nazis have just stood and saluted the German anthem in [Humphery Bogart's] Rick's Café Americain, in neutral Casablanca, Morrocco---
and the French bravely sing the Marseillaise in defiance.
Rick allows this, though it leads to the Nazis closing his bar.
I'm editing a kids book on Thomas Jefferson right now, which reminds me of our debt to France---somehow got lost in the jumble of history... specifically when Congress's cafeterias renamed French fries "freedom fries" after the French refused to support George W's plans to attack Iraq.
Anyway, thanks for posting! Allons-y! [Let's go!]
The Marseillaise scene from Casablanca was the one thing that made Dylan cry for many years. I always found it very touching. Maybe they should do like Ankh-Morpork and just have ner-ner-ner as the lyrics, except for the chorus.
Crow,
Sorry for tempting you. I really meant it that you'd be glad not to look it up. Glad you know I do so love you, dear friend.
The French are frequently hard to love; but in the tradition perpetuated by Mills and Boon this makes me all the more inclined to try. I too feel a restriction in my throat when Paul Henreid gets to his feet and gets people singing. A minor point: most other countries play the anthem too slowly and reduce it to a dirge. Check out the translation and you'll see the sentiments are not at all dirge-like
What you can do is find the response Antoine Leiris, the French husband (now widower) makes to ISIS following the death of his wife last Friday. Inserting
http://www.theguardian.com/world/video/2015/nov/19/you-will-not-have-my-hatred-husband-paris-victim-letter-attackers-video
takes you to The Guardian where you’ll find a link to the BBC. The latter asked him to read an English translation of what he’d originally written and recorded in French. It will break your heart, but in a good way.
Antoine Leiris' video is indeed ... well watch it. Then cheer yourself a little, perhaps, with this
http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2015/11/19/andrew-neil-islamist-scumbags-bbc1s-this-week_n_8605632.html
Sod 'oldest ally'; as one of the French football fans said affectionately of the English before the friendly match between France and England on the following Monday, (where one of the young players had lost his much loved cousin three days before, another had had close family survive the Bataclan massacre, and the team had slept on mattresses inside the Stade de France to keep the German team company when they couldn't go back to their hotel) 'they are our best enemy'.
Post a Comment