Sub City Paris

Sub City Paris from Redglass Pictures on Vimeo.

Cinematographically, this is nothing extraordinary. Among other things, it seems to lack a certain coherence. However, it does an excellent job of capturing the experience of emerging from the metro. Sometimes that experience is completely banal--just people rushing by, faces in a crowd, petals on a wet black bough.

But other times, it's something quite special, perhaps a bit sublime.

Writers on the Streets of Paris

I didn't know that Ernest Hemingway and Gabriel García Marquez crossed paths on the streets of Paris.

In 1954 he was given the Nobel Prize. Gabriel García Márquez, still a journalist, caught sight of Hemingway and his wife in Paris one day in 1957 walking along the Boulevard Saint-Michel. Hemingway was wearing old jeans and a lumberjack’s shirt. He had long been one of García Márquez’s great heroes, for his myth as well as his writing. The Old Man and the Sea had hit García Márquez “like a stick of dynamite”; he was too timid to approach Hemingway but also too excited not to do something. From the opposite side of the street he called out, “Maestro!” Hemingway raised a hand as he called back “in a slightly puerile voice,” “Adios, amigo!”

Two writers writing in two languages. Two Nobel Prize winners. One city.

Splitscreen: A Love Story

I am in the United States for a couple of weeks to take care of my work visa. I was in New York City the last few days, and so I thought of this short film.

Splitscreen: A Love Story from JW Griffiths on Vimeo.

Scenes from the 13th

Scenes from the 20th

Laïcité Inch'Allah

Laïcité Inch'Allah.

Those two words, one in French and one in Arabic, are drenched in meaning well beyond their eight syllables. The first is a word marking the triumph of the secularist side in a long, bitter struggle against the Catholic Church in France. Since the 1905 French law that definitively separated church and state, it has been a principle that political discourse across the spectrum accepts without reservation.

The second word literally means, "If God wills". According to the Koran, Muslims should say it whenever they speak of future events. In Muslim countries, however, it has come to mean "maybe I will do it", "perhaps I will get around to it", or even "fat chance".

Put the two together and you get something along the lines of "Secularism, if God wants it" with a heavy connotation of "Secularism, fat chance". In two words it smashes together two vastly different cultures and worldviews, and raises a host of questions. Can the development of Catholicism in Europe be a model for Islam in Arab countries? Can an idea from France be put into practice in an Arab country it colonized? Should it? In short, the title is genius.

As of late, the Parisian metro walls have been plastered with advertisements for a new film by exactly this title. Directed by Nadia El Fani, it opens today in France. It's about Tunisia, where secularism is on much weaker footing than in France. I haven't seen the film, but I would like to. It had me at "Laïcité Inch'Allah".

Here's the trailer (French).

Scenes from the 13th: Moving

Spotted On The Metro: A Phillies Cap

Much to the chagrin of Red Sox fans, the youth of this world love to don the baseball caps of the New York Yankees. I blame Jay-Z, but that's a post for another time.

99% of the time, the iconic, interlocking 'N' and 'Y' are worn by individuals who have never watched a baseball game in their lives. They have no idea what a strikeout or a home run is, and would be lost if you started discussing storied names like Mariano Rivera, Derek Jeter, Lou Gehrig, and Babe Ruth. They don't wear the New York Yankees cap to identify with the team. They wear the New York Yankees cap to identify with hip-hop culture or, sometimes, just because it's "cool".

The other day I saw a guy on the Paris metro wearing a Phillies cap. Now, I lived in Philadelphia for two years, and I was there for their 2008 World Series win. So I was intrigued, attracted by the possibility of a fellow Philadelphian or baseball fan. To the best of my knowledge, the Phillies cap has nothing to do with hip-hop culture. So I assumed the guy was a Phillies fan, or at least had some relationship with the city.

I struck up a conversation.

"Nice hat. You like the Phillies?"

"No. I'm just wearing it."

"Oh, ok." I turned back to my book.

Is China Or Europe More Christian?

It is impossible to say how many Christians there are in China today, but no-one denies the numbers are exploding.

The government says 25 million, 18 million Protestants and six million Catholics. Independent estimates all agree this is a vast underestimate. A conservative figure is 60 million. There are already more Chinese at church on a Sunday than in the whole of Europe.

...writes Tim Gardam for the BBC (emphasis mine).

When I am not with my fellow Anglo-Saxon Protestant brethren, I attend mass in Paris's Chinatown--at Notre Dame de Chine (Our Lady of China), located just down the street from the Parisian Chinatown McDonald's (don't you just love multiculturalism?). So I have a unique perspective on this issue.

Most French churches are empty on Sunday. However, you will find immigrants, old people, and, in certain bourgeois neighborhoods, the traditionally large white French Catholic family. At Notre Dame de Chine you see a mix of those groups, but, given that it is Chinatown and not terribly bourgeois at that, Asian Catholics outnumber the others.

Say what you will about communism, but at least it didn't worship wealth and success as the greatest good. Right now, as Western-style consumerism and materialism invade China and replace the ethos of communism, Chinese leaders are struggling to cope with the societal effects. As a result some leaders are turning to the burgeoning Christian movement in order to achieve the new Chinese value of the harmonious society.

Most French people struggle to understand this. The secularized Christian tradition that they have inherited still partially restrains the type of consumerism now blossoming in cultures with much different histories. Almost all white Europeans that I know have not quite come to terms with this unwieldy fact. Despite the many European ideas, institutions, and inventions that will persist into the future, the world will not become Europe writ large. The future will be non-white, non-European, and non-secular.

Commemorating 9/11 at Notre Dame de Paris

Yesterday I attended mass at Notre Dame de Paris. It was held in commemoration of "the victims of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2011 and all other victims of terrorism in the last ten years".

Shortly after I arrived at 6 PM the last seat filled up for the 6:30 PM mass. There seemed to be some American tourists and students, but, based on the proportion of people participating in the liturgy, the mass was attended mainly by French Catholics. Some other religious leaders were in attendance, as well as Charles Rivkin, the American ambassador, and Frédéric Mitterrand, prominent sex tourist, possible pedophile, and French Minister of Culture.

In my program I found a short note from Ambassador Rivkin expressing a deep respect for French friendship and support. He concluded the paragraph by stating that the US-French friendship would endure so long as it shared the same values, giving a few examples. I found it interesting that he referenced two of the three values of the French Revolution, liberté and fraternité, but not égalité. Although both are products of Enlightenment culture, our two countries have taken different paths: Americans don't have a problem with inequality as long as there's a theoretical way for the poor to improve their plight.

The first Scripture passage was read in English by a priest in training. The disjuncture between his serious intonation and his awful French accent was so hilarious I couldn't help letting out a chuckle. I looked around, expecting reprimanding stares. I was not the only one laughing.

The gospel reading came from Matthew 18. A master forgave his servant his debts, but the servant did not forgive the debts of a fellow servant. The moral is God has forgiven us so we must forgive others (including members of al-Qaeda). The archbishop of Paris André XXIII picked up on this theme in his homily. It paralleled Pope Benedict XVI's much misunderstood 2006 Regensburg Address, in which the Pope argued that religious dialogue must be guided by reason, particularly a belief in God's rationality. Otherwise it can descend into violence, a blasphemous act against the God who created us all.

The entire mass was unabashedly Catholic. The mass included a recitation of the Nicene Creed, including the Filioque, despite the presence of an Orthodox priest. And there were plenty of references to the divinity of Christ despite the presence of Muslim and Jewish leaders.

As someone coming from a Protestant (and specifically evangelical) tradition, I still struggle to wrap my mind around the spectacle and pomp of a Catholic mass as well as Catholicism's rigid hierarchy. But I am more than happy to take part in any commemoration that proudly asserts its beliefs and tradition while encouraging people to forgive, use reason and avoid violence.

Scenes from the 19th

It's Not Terrible

One of the most tempting dangers in learning a language similar to your native tongue is to calque. This involves taking a word from your native language and assuming it means the same thing in the second language.

The most embarrassing example is likely when an English-speaking woman tries to employ the Spanish word "embarazada". You would think that both 'embarrass' and 'embarazo/a' come from similar Latin origins and so mean the same thing. But they don't! A young American lady in an awkward situation might be tempted to say, "Estoy embarazada." But she would be wrong: "Estoy embarazada" means "I am pregnant". After trying the word out with her Latin American friends she would likely be even more embarrassed.

A reverse calque also exists, where you assume a word means the same thing as it does in your native language. Recently I have struggled to wrap my mind around the French phrase "C'est pas terrible." Each time I hear it, I assume it comes from the Latin 'terribilis' ('scary', 'frightening') and so means "It's not terrible", or, in other words, "it's good".

Unfortunately, in common French usage, it doesn't actually mean that. The French word "terrible" began much as the English word 'terrible'--a bad, scary, awful thing. However, at some point along the line, French people started using it to mean 'awesome' or 'rad' or 'sick'. The last word, in fact, provides a good parallel. 'Sick' is a bad thing normally; no one wants to spend the day in bed, puking his or her guts out. But when some college student from California says, "That's sick!" that's not what he has in mind; he means quite the opposite--"it's cool".

That's what has happened with the word 'terrible'.

The French have another linguistic tendency--to praise things by negating a generally negative word rather than using a positive word. The French say, "C'est pas mal!" ("It's not bad") all the time when Americans would say, "It's great!"

And so it was inevitable that the French would begin to say "C'est pas terrible!" when something is not that great.

If this blog post seems a little long, at least now you have an idea of the gyrations my mind goes through everytime a French person says 'c'est pas terrible'.

C'est pas terrible.

Scenes from the 20th: Oscar Wilde's Grave

A Rather Unromantic View

Early this morning, after a night out in Montmartre, three of us ended up with a bottle of wine on the steps of Sacre Coeur.

It was drizzling, and the usually spectacular view of Paris was decidedly muted. I squinted trying to make out any of the usual Parisian landmarks through the rain. The steps, usually full of tourists, were empty except for a couple at the far end huddling together in fruitless resistance against the crappy weather. Only a few minutes after we arrived, they gave up their attempt at a romantic moment and scampered away to drier, warmer pastures.

Down below there was a group of men surrounding a lone woman near a car. There appeared to be some sort of conflict, but we couldn't make out the nature of their argument. The only clue came when their voices escalated and one of the men shouted at the woman, "Arrete de faire la meuf!" ("Stop being such a chick!") Not too long afterwards they also walked away.

A little later two Arabs arrived at the top of the steps and started drinking and smoking. We continued chatting and shivering. The smell of hashish wafted towards us.

The other American in our group looked out on the darkened and rainy city and smiled. "We live in Paris, the most beautiful city in the world! Every neighborhood is a different universe. Isn't it amazing?"

The lone French person in our group replied, "I'm French. My view is more nuanced. Paris is completely different from the rest of France."

He replied, "It's completely different from the rest of the world. You can meet people from everywhere in the world here."

"But Paris is just too big and too dense. There's too much stress. It's never quiet. It's an ok place to be when you're young, but I don't want to stay very long."

A few minutes later our fatigue and the weather overcame us as well. We stood up to leave, beginning the long trek back to our warm homes on the other side of Paris.

Scenes from the 8th: Parc Monceau

DSK and French Jews

Dominique Strauss-Kahn returned to France today. Along with his wife Anne Sinclair, he arrived at Roissy Airport this morning after a four-month long fight against rape charges in New York City.

Just today in the newspaper Le Parisien, there were separate articles about the former IMF president's arrival in Paris, about the couple's departure from the airport of Roissy, about their return home to the Place des Vosges, about their media silence all day, about his continuing legal issues, about fellow Socialists' mixed views of his arrival, about the rival UMP's snarky commentary, and about his intentions to stay at home this afternoon. Those are only some of the Le Parisien articles about DSK from this afternoon.

Shortly before DSK's arrest for attempted rape in New York City, he admitted that his presidential ambitions would be hindered by three things: he's rich, he's a womanizer, and he's a Jew. At the time, it seemed as though his wealth would be the big stumbling block for the potential Socialist candidate. The possible champion of the working classes had been photographed stepping into a Porsche, raising questions about the suitability of a rich banker as the Socialist candidate for president. In retrospect, it wasn't his wealth so much as his womanizing that effectively ended his candidacy before it ever began.

Of course, there's no need to beat a dead horse. We've heard all too much about DSK's pecadillos. So let's skip the skirt-chasing and go straight to his Jewishness.

When I first heard him list those three impediments, it surprised me that he was Jewish. I guess the last name should have given it away, but when you come from a melting pot nation, you don't always pay attention to last names--they rarely mean anything anymore. I'm a 'Schaefer', for instance, but no one in my family speaks German.

What surprised me even more was that there were any Jews left in France. Maybe it's just my American bias yet once again, but I had assumed that the French, with their history of anti-Semitism, had shipped off all their Jews to concentration camps during the German occupation. As it turns out, French and German cooperation managed to kill off only 20% of the Jews living in France (76,000 of the approximately 350,000). Also, after decolonialization, many Jews living in Arab countries came to Metropolitan France to escape growing anti-Semitism (caused by, among other reasons, the creation of the state of Israel and by earlier Jewish collaboration with the French colonialists).

With that influx and natural population growth, there are now are over 480,000 Jews in France, DSK being only one among many. In Paris they can be found concentrated in certain neighborhoods, particularly in the 19th. Take a stroll through the Parc de Buttes-Chaumont on a sunny Saturday afternoon, and of the hundreds of people you will see relaxing on its hilly terrain, the majority will be Jews, most dressed up in their synagoge-best. DSK's home (which he won't be leaving today) is located in the Marais, another popular Jewish neighborhood.

Even if Parisian Jews have managed to escape past French anti-semitism and North African anti-semitism, their life is not perfect. Periodically there are conflicts between Arabs and Jews. In the last few years, some Jewish youths have been tortured and killed by Arab gangs. Heightened tensions between Israelis and Palestinians often produce mirror conflicts in Parisian neighborhoods where Arabs and Jews rub shoulders. And sometimes individual Jews cause problems for themselves...like when they bang hotel maids in foreign countries before grabbing lunch with their daughter and catching a flight back to their home sweet Parisian home.