This afternoon I threw together a Niçoise salad, bought a fresh baguette, and got my gruyère and grapes ready to go. I logged onto amazon.fr, and checked out the 2007 offerings for the rentrée littéraire.
The rentrée refers to the nationwide phenomenon of the French returning home from their long August holidays. The rentrée littéraire takes place throughout the month of September. Publishing houses release their most anticipated books from their most celebrated authors. Books released in September are fresh in judges' minds when it comes time to award coveted literary prizes, such as the Prix Goncourt.
As I scanned the new releases for September 2007, I couldn't help but notice a large number of novels whose plot revolved around an author who mysteriously disappears. Editors, journalists, and other literary professionals much search for the missing author finding, not only the man, but the essence of his work.
Disappearance is a big theme in the 2007 rentrée littéraire. Whether the subject is missing authors (Le Livreur, Les romans n'interessent pas les voleurs), the disappearance of Jewish writer David Mendelsohn's family in 1941 Nazi-occupied Poland (The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million ), or an Alzheimer's sufferer who no one sees (On n'est pas là pour disparaître), the idea of disappearance shows up again and again.
As you may have noticed from the Mendelsohn autobiography, the rentrée littéraire is far from an exclusively French affair. I noticed a new book by one of my favorite Italian authors, Andrea Camilleri, translated into French. Talk Talk, T.C. Boyle's 2006 English release, has also been translated and is featured in the rentrée littéraire. When the prizes are awarded later this year, most have a special category for foreign authors translated into French.
One 2007 appearance I very much anticipated didn't disappoint. Amelie Nothomb's latest book, Ni d'Eve ni d'Adam, will be making its way to me across the Atalantic soon. There's nothing like reading a Belgian author write in French about her affair in Tokyo. (Here is my post on Nothomb's 2006 contribution to the rentrée littéraire)
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Aluminum and Styrofoam
Two songs have really gotten under my skin over the past few weeks, and both are by Canadian artists. The first, "Aluminum", is off the Barenaked Ladies 2003 Everything to Everyone. Not only is the music great, but you've got to love the lyrics:
"Aluminum to me, aluminium to some. You can shine like silver all you want, but you're just aluminum."
I really respond to this song because it's such a heart-felt anthem to a mundane, everyday material. It's the stuff mom used to wrap your corned-beef sandwich, not an awe-inspiring woman or breath-taking vista. Just the fact that the Ladies took note of the aluminum in their lives fascinates me, and the same is true for Track 7 on Daniel Powter's 2005 debut album, an affectionate ballad to Styrofoam.
So what's in the water up in Canada, eh? Why are all these great musicians writing love songs to food wrap and packing material? I think the answer lies in the blend of the Anglo and French in Canadian culture.
The Barenaked Ladies are a band associated with fast food and mounds of macaroni and cheese thrown on stage while they're performing- there's nothing too français about that! But these guys throw out casual references to Truffaut with the same authority as they discuss their favorite American cartoons (see Barenaked Ladies - Barelaked Nadies). There's no doubt kids growing up in the strip malls of Scarborough, Ontario (like the BNL's Steve Page and Ed Robertson) had more references to French culture in their daily lives than their counterparts on the other side of Niagara Falls. One aspect of French literature and cinema that seems to have really influenced Canadian artists, like the Barenaked Ladies and Daniel Powter, is an eye for the fabric of daily life.
If you're not up to jumping into a Truffaut film, take a look at The Dreamers, an English/French production that uses modern sensibility to pay tribute to hallmarks of French cinema. Where is the eye of the camera going in The Dreamers? Why are the filmmakers showing us the worn bristles on a toothbrush, the pattern on the tablecloth, a frying egg, the garbage behind the apartment building?
Aren't these the details the audience wants left out of the story? In the case of French cinema and literature, the answer is no.
The French aesthetic argues that our lives are made from details, from a series of ablutions, chores, meals, conversations. A character's personality is defined by his everyday actions, and the movement of his character arc can sometimes be communicated to the audience by the smallest change in routine or circumstance.
Francophiles may dream of an everyday world of hot coffee, crusty bread, checked tablecloths, and quaint balconies. Kids who grew up in Ontario or British Columbia experienced a different reality, one of Nintendo games, juice boxes, pizza, and ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil.
"Aluminum to me, aluminium to some. You can shine like silver all you want, but you're just aluminum."
I really respond to this song because it's such a heart-felt anthem to a mundane, everyday material. It's the stuff mom used to wrap your corned-beef sandwich, not an awe-inspiring woman or breath-taking vista. Just the fact that the Ladies took note of the aluminum in their lives fascinates me, and the same is true for Track 7 on Daniel Powter's 2005 debut album, an affectionate ballad to Styrofoam.
So what's in the water up in Canada, eh? Why are all these great musicians writing love songs to food wrap and packing material? I think the answer lies in the blend of the Anglo and French in Canadian culture.
The Barenaked Ladies are a band associated with fast food and mounds of macaroni and cheese thrown on stage while they're performing- there's nothing too français about that! But these guys throw out casual references to Truffaut with the same authority as they discuss their favorite American cartoons (see Barenaked Ladies - Barelaked Nadies). There's no doubt kids growing up in the strip malls of Scarborough, Ontario (like the BNL's Steve Page and Ed Robertson) had more references to French culture in their daily lives than their counterparts on the other side of Niagara Falls. One aspect of French literature and cinema that seems to have really influenced Canadian artists, like the Barenaked Ladies and Daniel Powter, is an eye for the fabric of daily life.
If you're not up to jumping into a Truffaut film, take a look at The Dreamers, an English/French production that uses modern sensibility to pay tribute to hallmarks of French cinema. Where is the eye of the camera going in The Dreamers? Why are the filmmakers showing us the worn bristles on a toothbrush, the pattern on the tablecloth, a frying egg, the garbage behind the apartment building?
Aren't these the details the audience wants left out of the story? In the case of French cinema and literature, the answer is no.
The French aesthetic argues that our lives are made from details, from a series of ablutions, chores, meals, conversations. A character's personality is defined by his everyday actions, and the movement of his character arc can sometimes be communicated to the audience by the smallest change in routine or circumstance.
Francophiles may dream of an everyday world of hot coffee, crusty bread, checked tablecloths, and quaint balconies. Kids who grew up in Ontario or British Columbia experienced a different reality, one of Nintendo games, juice boxes, pizza, and ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Pluralism and the Language of the Future
Lots of science fiction writers weave future language into the fabric of their created universe. Orwell's 1984 had Newspeak. Joss Whedon's Firefly posits the dual spread of English and Chinese through the colonized universe. The real-life constructed language, Esperanto, is such a mainstay of visions of the future, that its use is parodied in the sf Britcom, Red Dwarf.
Why so much fuss about language? For one thing, writers know our everyday experiences and cultural identity are colored by the languages we speak. It's also an attempt to avoid unthinking ethnocentrism. Given the prominent place English holds in the international community today, it's especially tempting for sf writers to assume a future society where everyone speaks English.
So my interest was really piqued by Jean-Benoit Nadeau and Julie Barlow's discussion of the place of non-English languages in the future. Their book, The Story of French, may have started with the history of the language, but it brought readers up to date with statistics and events from 2006, and predicted language trends of the future.
Nadeau and Barlow explained that, while French was once the default international language for diplomacy, business, and education, English took over that role in the 20th Century. The aftermath of African colonization, French-speaking Canadians, and the spread of goodwill French-teaching organizations across the globe, have kept French on IV, but it was being wiped out on the international affairs stage (did you know the official language of the European Union is English?). An organization was created to promote the use of French on the international scene, but Nadeau and Barlow claim the Francophonie was only so much hot air until they hit upon a key idea: language pluralism.
France was once (and still is) the figurehead for democracy. Now the French language is becoming the figurehead of language pluralism- that is, of using more than one language. The trend in international bodies such as the UN, is to move toward a single official language (English) for efficiency. This leaves those who aren't native speakers at a disadvantage, and contributes to what Nadeau and Barlow call "mental colonization."
Waving the banner for more than one language in international diplomacy and cooperation, French speakers have captured the attention of other nations who don't want to see their languages disappear. That hot air Francophonie organization for promoting French is being joined by nations who don't even have large French-speaking populations (though they must prove strong French linguistic and cultural presence in their national identity to join- check out all 55 member flags). Momentum is slowly gaining for the idea that French is "the other language." Speaking French gives non-native English speakers an alternative to speaking English, and gives them hope that their language, too, might survive.
Just to be clear- I love English. I even spent several years teaching English to non-native speakers who wanted to learn for both practical reasons and because they just liked the language! But I'd hate to envision a future where there were no new French books for the September rentrée, where there were no new languages for me to study. Language is intertwined with culture, and learning a foreign language gives us a window to that culture. Efforts of the French-speaking community to promote linguistic and cultural pluralism may change the color of life in the space colonies of our future, and in the space colonies of our dreams.
Why so much fuss about language? For one thing, writers know our everyday experiences and cultural identity are colored by the languages we speak. It's also an attempt to avoid unthinking ethnocentrism. Given the prominent place English holds in the international community today, it's especially tempting for sf writers to assume a future society where everyone speaks English.
So my interest was really piqued by Jean-Benoit Nadeau and Julie Barlow's discussion of the place of non-English languages in the future. Their book, The Story of French, may have started with the history of the language, but it brought readers up to date with statistics and events from 2006, and predicted language trends of the future.
Nadeau and Barlow explained that, while French was once the default international language for diplomacy, business, and education, English took over that role in the 20th Century. The aftermath of African colonization, French-speaking Canadians, and the spread of goodwill French-teaching organizations across the globe, have kept French on IV, but it was being wiped out on the international affairs stage (did you know the official language of the European Union is English?). An organization was created to promote the use of French on the international scene, but Nadeau and Barlow claim the Francophonie was only so much hot air until they hit upon a key idea: language pluralism.
France was once (and still is) the figurehead for democracy. Now the French language is becoming the figurehead of language pluralism- that is, of using more than one language. The trend in international bodies such as the UN, is to move toward a single official language (English) for efficiency. This leaves those who aren't native speakers at a disadvantage, and contributes to what Nadeau and Barlow call "mental colonization."
Waving the banner for more than one language in international diplomacy and cooperation, French speakers have captured the attention of other nations who don't want to see their languages disappear. That hot air Francophonie organization for promoting French is being joined by nations who don't even have large French-speaking populations (though they must prove strong French linguistic and cultural presence in their national identity to join- check out all 55 member flags). Momentum is slowly gaining for the idea that French is "the other language." Speaking French gives non-native English speakers an alternative to speaking English, and gives them hope that their language, too, might survive.
Just to be clear- I love English. I even spent several years teaching English to non-native speakers who wanted to learn for both practical reasons and because they just liked the language! But I'd hate to envision a future where there were no new French books for the September rentrée, where there were no new languages for me to study. Language is intertwined with culture, and learning a foreign language gives us a window to that culture. Efforts of the French-speaking community to promote linguistic and cultural pluralism may change the color of life in the space colonies of our future, and in the space colonies of our dreams.
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