Many delights in the searchable online archive of Spy Magazine, the originator of the Trump put-down 'short-fingered vulgarian'. A collection of literal translations of French porn films from the May 1992 issue:
Nicolas Godin, Half of the great French duo Air brings us this Beatles-esque arrangement of the alto aria from Bach's Cantata No. 54, 'Widersteh' Doch der Sünde'. Video = Lutheran surf-zombies.
I repeat, Lutheran surf-zombies.
Deutschlandfunk sends Ursula Welter around Paris to interview (g, my translation) some French political bigwigs about Merkel. Merkel has good relations with French conservatives and considers them allies. But they have had it. First up is Pierre Lellouche, foreign policy spokesman for the French conservatives:
"I don't know, I ask myself just like all the others why she changed course so brutally. She has fueled a crisis, a crisis that can no longer be contained. When she made the decision [to stop enforcing Dublin and open the borders] she sent out an immense clarion call of temptation to millions of people currently housed in Turkey, in Lebanon, in Jordan, not to mention those in Africa and those about to venture a journey over the Mediterranean.
"It's clear that Madame Le Pen will be able to exploit these fears, not us.
"But you can't simply speak of European values when it suits you. German cannot demand quotas from others. If I were Alexis Tsipras, I would demand quotas for Greece and say please take a share of my debts. If I were Francois Hollande I would say give me a quota of German soldiers or helicopters for our operations in Mali."
Xavier Bertrand, a senior conservative figure running against Le Pen in regional voting in northern France says: "German policy is complete nonsense. I will not accept a purely German Europe." When asked whether this crisis threatens Europe, he says yes, clearly.
The reporter encounters a Socialist deputy, Malek Bouthi, in a TV studio: "One can welcome the generosity of the German people, but Angela Merkel made a serious political mistake for Europe. The truth is that Merkel's behavior triggered crises in neighboring countries, particularly in France. Merkel is Le Pen's ally."
As I've said before, this migrant crisis seems likely to bring solid, long-lasting governing coalitions between the center and nativist right all over Western Europe. This will work out differently in France, since only one person can win the Presidency, but the background dynamics are the same.
Trigger Warning: This post contains discussions of racial stereotypes and East German hairstyles.
After the Charlie Hebdo attack, there were cultural misunderstandings galore about whether the French satire magazine was an obnoxious racist rag. Some of the Charlie's satirical cartoons contained stereotypical depictions of black people and Muslims, which was enough for many non-French speakers to denounce the magazine. Those who spoke French and knew the French media landscape countered that the editorial line of Charlie Hebdo was left-wing. The use of rude caricatures -- whether of blacks, Catholics, gays, or royalty -- is simply par for the course in the rollicking, adolescent world of European satire. To those in the know, which includes me, there is no debate: the latter point of view is correct.
Here's another magazine cover that's sure to provoke controversy, this time in Germany. I will now explain the background to you before the controversy erupts. I happen to have learned a lot about Germany, even though I've lived here for over a decade.
The roots of this joke go back to November 1989. The Berlin Wall had just come down, talk of unification was in the air, and thousands of East Germans were traveling freely to West Germany for the first time. The West German satire magazine Titanic decided to weigh in with a cover. Titanic, you should know, follows the dictum (g) of Kurt Tucholsky: Was darf Satire? Alles. (What is satire alllowed to do? Everything.)
Here is their November 1989 cover:
The title reads: 'Zonen-Gaby (17) overjoyed (BRD) : My First Banana'. Let's unpack the cultural signifiers. First, the name. Gaby (short for Gabrielle) is a common name all over Germany, but was especially popular in the East. Zonen-Gaby refers to the fact that she comes from East Germany. Now, there is a whole code governing how one may refer to residents of the former German Democratic Republic. The most polite way is 'People from the New German Federal States'. Quite a mouthful. Then comes East Germans. By the time you get to Ossi, you're in the political-correctness danger zone. And that brings us to Zonies. Right-wing Germans, who never accepted the notion of East Germany as a legitimate, independent state, referred to East Germany as the 'Soviet Occupation Zone' to emphasize its temporary and non-democratic character.
'Zone-Gaby' is 17, and now residing in the BRD, the German initials for West Germany. She has several characteristics of people from the East, including the half-hearted perm and unisex denim jacket. East Germans were very much into these things. If you don't believe me, just look at the footage from the fall of the Wall. East German women were also delighted by geometric plastic earrings. There were lots of dangling red plastic triangles. Gaby has what looks like a peach-colored plastic wind-chime hanging from each ear. Also the teeth. Basic medical care in the State of Workers and Peasants was quite good, but there was neither the money nor the will to provide comrades with bourgeois fripperies like cosmetic dentistry.
And finally we come to the cucumber. Bananas were rare in East Germany, and one of the stereotypes of East Germans coming for a visit to the West (which was allowed under strict regulation) is that they ran to the nearest grocery store to devour exotic tropical fruits unavailable in the East. Poor Zonen-Gaby is evidently unfamiliar with bananas.
This is, without a doubt, the most famous Titanic cover in history, perhaps comparable to National Lampoon's 'If You Don't Buy this Magazine We'll Kill This Dog.' The number of people who found it grossly offensive was outnumbered only by the number who found it funny, which was only outnumbered by the people who found it both.
And now, 25 years later, Titanic has just outdone itself:
Even if you're not German-Powered™, you can probably see where this is going. The more sensitive among you should click away now. I'll give you a few seconds.
OK, we're back. I will now continue to dissect the joke, solely in the name of cross-cultural understanding, and perhaps Science. Our old friend Zonen-Gaby is back, this time in the company of 'Refugee Joe.' The title reads: 'Refugee Joe (52 cm) overjoyed (asylum): My First Zonen-Gaby'. As we also see, Zonen-Gaby is (still) overjoyed at meeting her new friend. Her thought bubble reads 'Hee-hee -- Banana Joe'! The black band promises 'Even more asylum critique in the magazine!'
The reference to 52cm should be self-explanatory. Although I should note for accuracy's sake that the current owner of the world's longest penis is an American (of course) and his glistening missile of sin is only 13.5 inches, or 34.2 cm long. Erect.
While we're on the subject of neighborhoods you might not want to visit in the USA, here's a long and well-written post by Ms. French Mystique on TripAdvisor about places you might wish to avoid in (or more accurately around) Paris:
Now it seems like I am the only true life long Paris suburbanite here so I suppose it qualifies me to comment in further detail about living in the Paris suburbs. Which I do happily and by choice. However I must warn you that it is VERY LONG to read even though I will only say a fraction of what I could say about the suburbs. It will include some family history as my family is quite typical of an era that shaped Paris's recent urban/suburban history.
As someone from a working class family who grew up in a bourgeois suburb, all I can say is I am grateful my parents did not decide to move to one of the these northern "bad" suburbs. In the 1950's my mother lived in Saint-Germain-des-Prés while my father had moved from central France to the 9th arrondissement. At the time there was full employment in Paris but the housing situation was terrible following WWII. There was a big housing crisis due to the massive WWII destruction and the babyboom, there were slums in Paris and a lot of apartments did not have modern comfort or much hygiene. The 6th may have become the most expensive arrondissement in Paris now but it wasn't always this way. My mother was dirt poor when she lived there with a roommate. Needless to say she wasn't hanging out with Sartre and Beauvoir who despite their so-called social commitment wouldn't have touched people of her class with a ten-foot pole. She was attending an Ecole Ménagère, where you learn cleaning, sewing, ironing, in other words she was learning how to become a servant (she indeed worked as a servant in her late teens), not to become part of the ruling class. Both my parents moved to the working-class southern suburb of Ivry in the early 1960's and that is how they met as they were neighbors.
At that time, the 'cités hlm' (the vast high rise subsidized housing blocks of flats that give some neighborhoods a bad reputation) were built as an answer to the housing crisis. Both inside and outside Paris. But the largest ensembles were built in the previously semi-rural zones of northern Paris inSeine Saint-Denis and Val d'Oise. Others replaced vast shantytowns that existed outside Paris. When these huge apartment buildings were built people were overjoyed at the possibility of living there. They were coming from no home of their own or terrible housing and the prospect of having better lodging was appealing. Compared to what they would have had in Paris or just outside the périphérique, these new apartments offered everything they could dream of: they were large, bright, clean, had central heating and bathrooms. Something that the poorer classes in Paris did not have.
Now for most of you the bad housing projects of northern Paris (and to a lesser extent other suburbs) are just something you read about or hear about in the news. But for me I can't help wondering what my life would have been like if my parents had made the terrible mistake of moving to one of these brand new neighborhoods (built in the middle of nowhere in the middle of fields far away from any town center, cultural life or services) and I had been born and raised there. They instead moved to Ivry, an old run down industrial town and when they got together they decided they wanted to move to a better neighborhood. They looked into the bourgeois town of Nogent but ended up buying a small condo in Saint-Maur which took them over 30 years to pay off. I grew up in a 60 sq.meter condo with no balcony and where my parents didn't have a bedroom and had to sleep in the sofa bed in the living-room but at least I grew up in a safe, geographically beautiful and culturally stimulating environment.
Now another reason these bad suburbs ring a little too close to home is my job. As a middle-school teacher I am in one of the professional categories that are the most exposed to urban/youth violence. Public school teachers in France are public servants employed by the state, as such we don't choose where we work. We are sent where we are needed. School districts throughout France are divided into 'académies' and mine is the académie of Créteil which includes 3 départements: Val-de-Marne (zip code 94), Seine-et-Marne (77) and the infamous Seine Saint-Denis (93), the most "dangerous" part of France. While the other two départements have their share of bad areas, they are still the minority, whereas they are particularly prevalent in the 93. So when you are a young teacher, your biggest fear is to be sent there. When at age 23 I received my appointment letter and the first thing I saw in the letter was the dreaded 93 figure, I immediately had a big lump in my throat, I could feel my face flush, my heart thumping and my eyes water. In France when you tell people you have taught middle-school in Seine Saint-Denis they look at you as if you were just back from fighting inIraq or Afghanistan. And the reputation of Seine Saint-Denis being a war zone is not unjustified. Ask the many teachers who have been victims of physical abuse.
Now luckily I have never been one of them. When I called my parents to tell them where I had been appointed my father quickly reassured me as he knew it well. The town I was going to spend the next 9 years of my career, Gournay-sur-Marne, is actually not typical of the département and despite its zip code is one of the safest suburbs around Paris. That put an end to a prejudice lumping all the towns of Seine-Saint-Denis into one undiscriminate category. Actually 60% of Seine Saint-Denis's 40 communes enjoy a much lower violent crime rate than Paris. However the violent crime rate of Seine Saint-Denis as a département is very high, but the violence is highly concentrated into certain zones. As a teacher in Gournay I got to set foot in several towns of Seine Saint-Denis either for work (meetings, workshops, etc) or to visit co-workers who lived there so I have a decent idea of the variety of neighborhoods. I also have relatives living in Pierrefitte sur Seine that I visit occasionally. As much as I love my cousin I dread driving there: it is so depressing. Last time I went was a few weeks ago, traffic had been exceptionally smooth and I arrived really early for lunch. Since it was a beautiful sunny day I decided to walk in the neighborhood for half an hour. I was seeing it in the best conditions possible, gorgeous weather and all, yet all the while I was wondering how anyone could live there by choice. I have no desire whatsoever to live in Paris or in rural areas for instance but I can at least see what appeal it could hold for others, but there, I failed to find any appeal: a few blocks of charmless suburban houses surrounded by ugly high rise buildings, a train track cutting you from the rest of the town and the only shopping available was a mini-mart at the end of a parking lot at the foot of a cité. Not a single market street in sight, nothing that felt like a city with a town center, no bus stop or métro or RER station or service of any kind and above all, no beauty anywhere. Not my idea of a pleasant neighborhood and the complete opposite of where I live. This cousin is from Saint-Ouen and she grew up in a cité at first and then in a small condo near the town hall. Her father, my uncle, worked at the car factory in Boulogne-Billancourt, was an active unionist, so I can see how people with strong left wing political values can feel ideologically attached to working class neighborhoods and do not want to leave a sinking ship. But even they sometimes admit things haven't been changing for the better and I know they feel a little trapped now, as pleasant as their house may be. As someone who has lived and worked in the suburbs all my life and who knows people who live in very different neighborhoods from mine including the cités hlm there are dozens of other anecdotes I could tell you but it would be too long. In any case, my experience is well beyond just 'setting foot' there.
Now in this thread phread and I have expressed disagreement with kerouac's introductory sentence to his report in regards to the media. I don't blame the media for depicting some of the northern suburbs as dangerous. Some districts are indeed dangerous there. That being said, let's keep in mind that danger can mean different things to different people depending on where they are from and what type of crime is prevalent in their country. Here homicide is extremely rare compared to North America for instance. There are dangerous districts in Paris itself despite what is often reported on this forum (good luck enjoying your midnight stroll on Place Stalingrad) and elsewhere in the suburbs, including the safest départements where you can have very isolated but violent pockets of crime. For instance the Yvelines, west of Paris is extremely safe, posh and beautiful overall but it has some of France's worst cités (in Trappes and Mantes-la-Jolie). What I blame the media for since the 1990's is lumping anything outside the périphérique as being bad and unsafe when statistically you are much safer from violent crime outside the Paris city boundaries than inside. Or they depict suburban living as boring, as if the towns outside Paris were not real towns with jobs, market streets, cinemas, theatres and artistic or cultural events within walking distance. We have all that in most of the urban suburbs, thank you. And settlements going back to prehistory, town centers from the Middle Ages and historic monuments galore. The suburbs are real living cities, not bedroom communities depending on Paris for employment and culture. The only thing the suburbs don't have is night life. Which for some people is an advantage.
I live in the suburbs by choice because I have a passion for the riverside atmosphere and guinguette culture in the towns around me, because I am surrounded by natural beauty where I can enjoy lovely walks, because I can have a little backyard of my own to enjoy with my animals (remember I grew up in a tiny condo with no personal outdoor space) while having absolutely everything within walking distance and yes, because it is very safe.
Drawing conclusions on the safety of the suburbs from listening to incidents in the news is akin to declaring air travel extremely dangerous because the only times it makes the news is when a plane crashes. Almost 100% of the time it is safe to fly. It's the same thing in the suburbs. Drawing conclusions about what the suburbs look like from driving along a route nationale lined with strip malls or getting off the RER in a soul-less modern district is as if I was commenting on the beauty of Paris seen from the périphérique. Because when you drive on the périphérique on the Parisian side apart from the occasional glimpse of the Eiffel Tower or Sacré Coeur, all you see is Paris's high rise housing projects whereas on the other side (that would be the suburban side) all you see is office buildings. These views would hardly define what is on either side of the périphérique, would it?
Working in and visiting Seine-Saint-Denis on several occasions has put an end to some of the prejudice I had against the place as a whole and has also confirmed that there is serious ground for the ill reputation in some areas. The suburbs of Paris are way too varied for me to describe in detail (and I obviously don't know them all) but most of them are very pretty and interesting with a rich history (not just local history but major national events), some are charmless, some are ghettos, some are urban, some are quaint rural villages with no direct transportation link with Paris, some are grand royal suburbs or UNESCO heritage cities visited by international visitors. Overall most are great for residents to live in but would not be worth a trip for tourists unless they are interested in getting a bigger picture of Paris within its region. But the suburbs are for the most part what 9 million of us call home.
Full disclosure: I like to get off the beaten track, so I've wandered around in many of the bad neighborhoods in Paris and nothing happened to me. Did get stared at a lot, though.
The French are some of the least sentimental people in the world -- one reason I admire them.
Jim Morrison died in Paris and formerly had a grave plot in the Pere Lachaise cemetery. I'm so old I once visited the cemetery while the grave was still there. Fans from all over the world strode blissfully past the resting places of actual geniuses to try to find Morrison's grave. To help them, despicable hominids had defaced dozens of monuments with scratched arrows pointing the way to 'Jim's Grave'. The headstone of Morrison's grave had been chipped away by souvenir-seeking fans, and the surroundings were littered with beer cans, used condoms, joints, scrawled confessions of eternal adoration for the Doors frontman, and quotations from his regrettable poetry.
Paris eventually had enough, so they dug him up and reburied him in an undisclosed location. I applauded the move.
Any hope that the love locks clinging to Paris' famed Pont des Arts bridge would last forever will be unromantically dashed by the city council's plan to dismantle them Monday — for good.
The padlocks — signed and locked by lovers on the metal grills on the bridge's sides by lovers — are widely regarded as an eyesore on Paris' most picturesque bridge, which overlooks the Eiffel Tower.
Last summer, they also became symbol of danger after a chunk of fencing fell off under their weight.
The city council said this week that the several hundred thousand padlocks in places around Paris cause "long-term heritage degradation and a risk for visitors' security."
Padlock-proof plexiglass panels will soon replace the Pont des Arts bridge's metal grills.
Let's hope all other cities follow suit.
In a long piece on the National Front, Susan Dominus interviews the mayor of Fréjus, National Front politician David Rachline:
I recalled a conversation we had earlier in the day in his office, when I asked him to describe the racial makeup of his high school. “I never count French people based on their origins or their religion,” he said. “I always just consider French people as French.”
It was strange to hear this liberal sensitivity from Rachline, of all people. He advocates the death penalty for rapists.
But Rachline’s deflection on the question of race was not at all surprising to Vincent Pons, a French academic I met in Paris the next day. Pons, a campaign expert — a company he founded provides technological support to candidates — reminded me how difficult it is to map basic American assumptions onto the French political landscape. “In France, officially, we don’t have race,” he said; it is illegal, for example, to ask about race or religion on any government form. “We just pretend that race does not matter, but it’s this crazy thing — of course it matters,” he said. “There are no statistics, so you can make no policy around it. But even if you tried, you’d be accused of making too much of race.”
Citizenship in France is supposed to confer complete equality, but the National Front, and many French all over the political spectrum, believe that privilege comes with the expectation of strict assimilation — no head scarves in school, no race-based interest groups, no questioning of the baby Jesus in the galette, no balking at the school’s lunch of roast pork. When it comes to laïcité, the differences between those on the left, the right and the far right are sometimes most apparent in the varying hostility with which they deliver remarkably similar views.
I'm pretty sure this see-no-evil policy on race and religion in France is on its last legs. Just about every non-Frenchman recognizes the absurdity of pretending race and religion don't matter, and a growing number of the French are seeing it too. The politics are interesting, though: the National Front seizes upon the irrelevance of race to avoid accusations of racism, and the left believes ignoring race serves its interests as well, especially since members of ethnic and religious minorities are almost certainly overrepresented among prison inmates and welfare recipients. But the other side of the coin is that without reliable statistics, there is no way to reliably quantify the level of racial discrimination in French society. So far the left seems to have concluded that framing discussions in non-ethnic terms brings more benefits than drawbacks, but I wonder how long that will hold out, especially as the French left watches the Front National gleefully seize on the see-no-evil policy.
In the July 17th London Review of Books, Judith Butler reviewed Jacques Derrida's On the Death Penalty, Vol. 1. She noted Derrida's reliance on a key passage in Freud's Civilization and its Discontents:
A brief passage in [Freud's] book proves quite important for Derrida’s argument. Freud is writing about the death penalty: ‘One is irresistibly reminded of an incident in the French Chamber when capital punishment was being debated.’ (I take it that this is the 1790s.) ‘A member had been passionately supporting its abolition and his speech was being received with tumultuous applause, when a voice from the hall called out: “Que messieurs les assassins commencent!”’ It is as if the call to let the assassins begin their work is of a part with the passions aroused by abolitionist discourse itself. Are abolitionists like anti-pornography campaigners who end up exciting their supporters with their graphic descriptions of the porn they would get rid of? Abolitionism has a different problem, since here it isn’t so much desire but the death drive that cloaks itself in moral opposition to its own expressions. Does Derrida’s reading suggest that opposition to the death penalty can quickly be converted into its opposite, unleashing a celebratory affirmation of its destructiveness?
I hadn't read Freud's book in quite a while, and had forgotten that he had discussed the death penalty in it. In any case, I was quite sure Freud's interpretation of this quotation was seriously wrong, since I had encountered the phrase several times in research for my death penalty book. I did a bit of research, and located the quotation. The London Review of Books just published my letter correcting Butler, Derrida, and most importantly Freud, who started the whole journey into erroneousness. Here it is, along with another letter which might be of interest to German readers:
The Death Penalty
Judith Butler repeats a mistake first made by Freud about the origin and meaning of the phrase ‘Que messieurs les assassins commencent’ (LRB, 17 July). It was not ‘called out’ during a debate in the ‘French Chamber’ in the 1790s in response to arguments against capital punishment. In fact, the French journalist Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr coined the phrase in an 1849 issue of his serial Les Guêpes. Further, the phrase was hardly intended as a cry of encouragement to murderers. The full passage (my translation) reads: ‘The law of the land kills those who have killed. If one wishes to abolish the death penalty in such cases, let the murderers begin – if they do not kill, we will not kill them.’ In Civilisation and Its Discontents, Freud reproduces only the five-word exhortation. He seems to interpret it as a frenzied expression of bloodlust, and follows it with meditations on the violence inherent in human nature. In context, of course, it’s just a snappy retort to death-penalty abolitionists – and sometimes a retort is just a retort.
Heinrich-Heine University, Düsseldorf
Both in Nietzsche Zur Genealogie der Moral and in the translation of Derrida quoted by Judith Butler, the text reads ‘der kategorische Imperativ riecht nach Grausamkeit,’ not ‘reicht von’. ‘Riecht nach’ means ‘reeks of’; ‘reicht von’ means ‘ranges from’. Walter Kaufman and R.J. Hollingdale, as well as the 1994 Cambridge translation by Carol Diethe, give ‘smells of cruelty’, but (as Peggy Kamuf, the translator of The Death Penalty, notes) in the French original Derrida actually uses the English word ‘stinks’ – neither ‘reeks’ nor ‘smells’ – to translate the German.