Monday, March 14, 2011

The Modus Operandi of French Society

Dear Lowdown:

A popular blogger once noted that Paris was the only city where locals did not appreciate his efforts to speak the language. Is there any historical reason for why the French don’t like it when visitors speak French? Why are they so rude?

Sincerely,

Mr. Woolsworth





My dear Mr. Woolsworth, your question is missing something very important: validity. (I say this, of course, with only the utmost respect.) To suggest that Parisians are intolerant or rude is to overlook an extraordinarily obvious point: it is not the French who are unkind, but it is instead the foreigners. But no matter, I will gladly guide you through the reasons behind any provocative Parisian attitudes that a traveler may encounter.

Any visitor to Paris would be well advised to follow a very simple and direct set of rules. Allow me to be your humble advisor; it is time to learn the noble French rules of tourist etiquette. If you choose to take this advice, no Parisian would dare insult you. And if they do, you will also learn to insult them back in the most offensively brilliant way. So please, relax and pay precise attention. Turn down “Mignon Mignon” and pour yourself a cool glass of Sauvignon Blanc as you learn the wonderful ways of the French.

I feel that it would be first appropriate to introduce you to the glorious French past, in the hope that it might allow you to better understand the Parisian mindset. France is a nation that prides itself on expertise—we have bred world-class artists, chefs, politicians, musicians, and more. Our language has been carefully adapted over the course of three millennia, crafted to match the French culture, beautiful enough to be understood without translation. For centuries, foreigners have visited our shores to marvel at our numerous accomplishments. Some of these visitors feel that discussing “French things” in French demonstrates appreciation for our culture. Au contraire. To face a visitor who does not understand the importance of the language is in a sense an insult to the very foundation of French society. To those who have, out of ignorance, morphed our native tongue into a mish-mass of jumbled vocabulary, have no fear; the issue can be easily rectified and forgiven. Just avoid speaking French until you can actually speak French.

With this context in mind, it may perhaps be easier to understand the detached reactions of Parisians when confronted with one of the 80 million tourists that scurry across our nation every year (“The World’s Top Tourism Destinations”). Many of these pasty little urchins arrive in the capital city donning ill-fitting khaki Bermuda shorts, overzealously aiming their disposable cameras at every architectural marvel, speaking too loudly and laughing too raucously. The coarse and uncivilized actions of these folks are frankly a pain in the native Parisian’s derriere.

When going about our daily business, it is every Parisians nightmare to hear a distorted French accent call out a question pondering the location of, say, the Eiffel Tower (this is a very common question). In fact, the next time that I hear one of those voices, I may be forced to take it upon myself personally to smack them. For a resident, it is an insult for a tourist to visit the one of the greatest works of architectural genius and not even have the wit to pack a map into their oversized olive fanny packs. Moreover, Parisians would truly prefer to not witness tourist couples crush the lush green grass that surrounds the Tower, lounging beneath the shining sun, and sharing bright strawberries that stain their lips a tacky shade of red; pretending that they love our city more than we.

Sadly, the tendency of visitors to abuse the French language is just a single example of many atrocities perpetrated by tourists. The most common stereotype associated with tourists is a shameful lack of fashion sense. An everyday Parisian imagines you adhering to the following morning routine: rising sluggishly from wrinkly rumpled white beds sheets, sliding your un-groomed toenails into a pair of tattered and dull slippers before lazily rising from a shoddy bed frame. You are, from the start, a sleep-deprived, baggy-eyed mess. From there, you proceed to throw together an atrociously hideous outfit consisting of threadbare denim jeans and an un-pressed linen shirt. This nonchalant style of dress clashes miserably with the splendor of Parisian style. It earns no respect here.

In contrast to foreign customs, it is not uncommon for Parisians to plan outfits ahead of time, and to dress up to run simple errands. Skin and hair care is emphasized, and few women leave home without applying cosmetics and spritzing just a bit of eau de parfum (Lehmann). In Paris, each individual explores the breadth of fashion and endeavors to redefine the epitome of style. In Paris, the morning routine is much more thought-out and our people are always chic, assembling outfits that achieve sophisticated silhouettes. Mind you, while consistent, our grooming and style are meant to be as effortless as they are flawless. We strive only to enhance beauty, not create it. Parisians are well aware that no amount of powder blush can make up for a true display of emotion; we accept the fact that no lack of charm can be masked by superb style. Parisians merely maintain a certain je ne sais quoi which cannot be manufactured. The unwillingness of visitors to adhere to French customs in dress is, in itself, rude behavior: to be an eyesore in a city of such beauty is just despicable in the eyes of Parisians.

Another inadequacy commonly observed in tourists relates to first encounters and other social interactions. When meeting someone new, there are several important details to keep in mind. First and foremost, firmly grip a Parisians hand and pump twice and then let go—a greeting is no place to foolishly fling your forearm up and down. Ideally, a third party should do the introducing, as it is not common for a stranger to walk up and begin to chatter aimlessly (Lehmann). This particular characteristic of French etiquette seems to differ from other styles. Perhaps the root of any French rudeness perceived by a visitor is simply a simple misunderstanding—you might care deeply about asking a fellow bus rider about the most elegantly adorned bistro in all of Paris, but your cheery Parisian counterpart will typically care much more deeply about tending to their day-to-day business. We are not boorish creatures, but we do prioritize our interactions differently; in most cases, foreign frivolity comes second to vital daily matters. So please, do not take offensive to silent responses.

But my dear Mr. Woolsworth, there are plenty of other indiscretions independent from style and conversation that shan’t be overlooked. The French would look favorably upon tourists who refrain from indulging in what we consider to be inappropriate behavior. Examples of such behaviors are as follows: do not ask a new acquaintance “what they do;” that is much too personal and should not be discussed until a stronger relationship is forged. Do not speak to strangers on public transportation; idle chit chat is frowned upon. Do not forget to tip your bellman one Euro per piece of luggage; not doing so is disrespectful. Do not switch your knife and fork as you eat. Do not give a hostess a bottle of wine. Do not tear your bread into a million little pieces at the dinner table (Lehmann).

Now, if you are in Paris and abide by these rules, no French individual should take it upon themselves to trouble you. However, if you happen stumble upon a Parisian with a bad attitude (though such individuals are a rarity) do not hesitate to hurl an insult back at them. I believe that “Le cerveau il etait en option chez toi” should be sufficient. Though I have provided you with a highly offensive phrase, please remember to refrain from implementing a condescending or arrogant tone when conversing with the French—to do so is considered to be extremely rude, particularly because all of the French avoid doing so themselves. Without manners and humility, it is very difficult to gain trust or respect in France, Mr. Woolsworth.

Please note: The phrase “le cerveau il etait en option chez toi” translates directly to “the brain was optional for you,” meaning (essentially) that you lack any intellectual and social capabilities.

Sincerely,

Jackson Beard





Works Cited


Lehmann, Johanna. “Mind Your Manners—French Etiquette.” EzineArticles.com. N.p., 8 February 2008. Web. 20 November 2010.
“The World’s Top Tourism Destinations.” Information Please Database. Pearson Education, 2008. Web. 20 November 2010.

1 comment:

  1. Jackson's paper was so revealing and enlightening! There is often this stereotype of French people's attitude towards Americans, and tourists in general, that probably misrepresents their character. Sometimes, I feel the same way in Chicago while hanging around downtown as I imagine Parisians must feel. The idea that no one could ever appreciate the city as much as a person who lives in it is so justified, and clearly spelled out in the answer.

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