LETTER FROM PARIS #38 - so this is really France.

“The French don’t smile, unless there is really something to smile about.” Bingo! A Frenchman talking about the French with a kind of pungent, humorous take on reality. Everything I was looking for to help me define the French ego, psyche, inner truth – all came out of Christian, the best tour guide I have ever been privileged to be with.

We were on a bus from the Rhone to the little village of Oingt, in the heart of the Beaujolais. It was a wine-tasting trip, but Christian made it a voyage into the French heart and soul. He did it with a fine understanding and a great sense of humour. I suppose I always thought the French took themselves far too seriously. Not Christian.

Because the bus ride was 45 minutes each way, from the boat to the Beaujolais and back, he filled the time with sparkling conversation. He spoke to the 90 or so people who may or may not have been interested in what makes the country French, and what make Frenchmen passionate. He was at his best talking about how the French have, sadly, lost their pre-eminence in the worldwide wine industry, Christian never used the word “arrogance”, but in his assessment of his country and his people, he was both clever and insightful.

I have written in these “letters” that the French found themselves no longer king of the castle in the wine business. It was like General Motors discovering, far too late, that its arrogance was empty self-praise and that people really did want Toyotas and Hondas and Nissans. Here’s how Christian described it: the French have never understood how to market their products because they believe that what they make is the best, so everyone else must agree. (Sort of like the tolerant parent trying to tell a child what is "best for him.")So they continued to market wines that no longer answered the changing tastes of a whole new generation of wine drinkers. And they made the labels so full of information that it rendered them impotent, and even then not telling the drinker what grape they were made from. He said the same thing about the French car industry. He knew that Renault, Peugot, and Citroen were good cars, but the French wouldn’t countenance the idea of putting in air-conditioning which North Americans demand.

He has lived and worked in America, and Australia, and other places far from France. He does understand what other countries want. And he does understand his own people.
But everything he said was loving. He is profoundly French. He makes jokes about his own people, something the French seem not to be good about, at least when surrounded by possibly hostile outsiders. He told of his father, who is now 73, deploring air-conditioning. He spoke lightly about French politics and about how de Gaulle changed the role of president from figure-head to all powerful chief executive. And he said: “It is no wonder we have so many revolutions.” He is so much more than a guide. He was, for me, the key to what I have been floundering around looking for: a way to define that most elusive character: the French. He was able all at once to show their unity as Frenchmen and their ability to be conflicted and to rage against each other. He spoke of how clear the French are about the separation of Church and State and will tolerate no political interference from religious sources. At the same time there was a note of tolerance. He reminded us that public funding supports schools that are faith-based.

I have omitted perhaps the best: his grasp of French wine-making and his own ability to understand and explain what makes a good wine good. I wanted to challenge him just once what he said that when you are having dinner, you start with the best wines and go to lesser wines as the meal progresses. That’s what you do with whisky not wine. He is the only expert I have heard who got it backwards. But I’m not going to quibble. He is bright, knowledgeable and a great communicator.

For me and my indomitable ego, the best of Christian was when he asked me where I had learned my French. He said it was unaccented and very French. I glowed. Praise from a Frenchman. I am still nonplussed by the language when it is spoken with speed. But I’m getting better.