It’s “la rentrée” in France, the time of year when important things happen. Not only do students begin a new school year; new movies, books, music, art, fashion, and ideas flood the national scene. September is an exciting time in France. After the summer torpor that brings the nation almost to a halt, life moves into high gear and it takes stamina to keep up. In my modest way, I’ve been trying, jotting down the titles of new books, new movies, concerts, exhibits…
In Paris, the threat of covid is not behind us. We wear masks inside public buildings and in public transportation. To go to the movies or dine out, we are required to show our “sanitary passport” issued by the government. These sanitary-identity checks make Parisians bristle each time they sit down in their favorite café. Yet, how good it feels to reconnect with old habits: people-watching, browsing in bookstores, going to museums and concerts, the pleasures that bestow wonder and excitement upon city life.
This “rentrée” has been a new beginning for me. For the first time since the pandemic began, I returned to a museum, the Pompidou Centre, the Parisian monument that wears its infrastructure on the outside. If there are any readers who remember the 3-dimensional boardgame “Mousetrap,” then you have an idea of what this museum of modern art looks like.
In early September, I rushed there, wanting to be among the first to see one of the biggest exhibits of this “new year,” devoted to American artist Georgia O’Keefe. Here is a painter who made modern art, a European movement in the early years of the 20th century, American. Inspired by close-ups in photography, inspired by the land, be it the dense forests and lakes of upstate New York or the deserts and mountains of New Mexico, she bent abstraction to her purposes, seeking to extract the essence of the natural world around her.
An independent woman, truly in the American grain, early on she determined her goal in art: to “crystallize the simplest, clearest vision of life,” a path she followed across almost a century (b.1887 – d.1986). Threatened by blindness during the final decades of her life, she turned to Pueblo pottery. In the exhibit, a sole example, a simple round vase, attests to her mastery of that art.
Soon I’ll also be returning to the opera, prompted by my admiration for a young friend—take note of this name—Tiago Lucet-Rémy, 13-years-old, who will appear in a production of Beethoven’s Fidelio at Opéra comique. This work has always been a favorite of mine, perhaps because Fidelio, the opera’s main character, is a woman disguised as a man. For love of her husband, the courageous Leonora puts on the uniform of a prison guard and enters the jail where he is unjustly incarcerated. Her goal? To set him free. Her motivation? An inner force stronger than fear.
Meanwhile, I’ve also been reading—and listening. I tune in regularly to morning radio on “France Inter.” That’s how I learned about a new book by the historian and sociologist Pierre Rosanvallon. The title is Les épreuves de la vie, which I’d translate as “the trials and challenges of life.” After listening to an interview with the author, I went out and bought the book. It has helped me to better grasp current trends in both French and American societies.
Rosanvallon sets out to demonstrate that politics is no longer an affair of interests, as it was, for example, at the beginning of the 20th century in the coal region of northeastern Pennsylvania. That’s when UMWA President John Mitchell negotiated the 8-hour workday in the best interest of miners. In the 1960’s, Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society aimed to bring “an end to poverty and racial injustice,” and laws were passed to redistribute America’s wealth in the interest of greater equality.
I’ll admit to being perplexed by the die-hard support of so many Americans for former president Donald Trump. He gave to the rich and took from the poor! How could anyone from the heavily taxed middle class be on the side of such a man?
Pierre Rosanvallon, in simple, clear language, opened my eyes to a striking evidence. Politics is no longer about interests as it was a century ago, nor does the promise of redistribution of wealth get out the vote. No, it’s all about values and individual grievances, and that’s how a man like Trump can unite the millionaire and the family that can barely make ends meet. They share the same values and their political opponent is the person who does not think like them.
You can negotiate interests, as you can a budget. Certainly, you can debate values, but in the polarized societies of both the United States and France, in the fractured world of cyberspace, it’s easier to “curse out” the opposing side than support your ideas with thoughtful arguments.
At the risk of offending some readers, I’d say former president Trump is a case in point. Back at the turn of the century, the man was solidly pro-choice in the explosive abortion debate. Since then, his opinion has shifted to the side of the pro-lifers. His values are similar to a lien on a property. He owes them to the side that gives him the most votes.
Just this morning, listening to France Inter, I learned of another new book. Written by Jean-Marie Guéhenno, former UN Assistant Secretary for Peacekeeping, its title is Le premier XXI ième siècle, which I’d translate as “the early 21st century.”
Guéhenno fears for democracy in these contentious times, not because everyone is becoming someone else’s enemy, but because so much discord, so much fanatical clinging to values, will eventually wear us out. On social media, we embrace the like-minded with relief, seeking within virtual communities of shared values the harmony denied us when we step out into the street.
The 20th century has been called “the American century.” Guéhenno fears the 21st will go to the Chinese, not because China’s economic or military strength may someday dominate the world, but because its model for society will supersede that of democracy. Through the control of all aspects of life, the Chinese government strives to construct a model of state-controlled harmony.
Exhausted by our culture wars, might we simply give up, handing over our hearts and minds to whatever form of government offers us a rest, freeing us from the heavy burden of thinking for ourselves?
Georgia O’Keefe or Xi Jinping? La rentrée has given me food for thought!
