EXPLAINING THE FRENCH
Two Canadians take a sympathetic look at a complex nation, one that values philosophers - and honours Jerry Lewis
by Charlie Fidelman

THE MONTREAL GAZETTE
June 07, 2003

When they die, Oscar Wilde wrote, all good Americans go to Paris. But that was before the war on Iraq. Today, Americans would rather choke on their Freedom Fries than put fromage on their baguette, much less foie gras and saucisson.
With anti-fran?ais sentiment at an all time high (at least south of the Canadian border), along comes a book called Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong: Why We Love France But Not the French.
Montreal-based journalists Julie Barlow and Jean-Beno?t Nadeau didn't set out to write a book about what makes the French so very French. But thanks to a twist of fate, they've found themselves in a curious position:
Here's a quintessential Canadian couple - he's a French Quebecer, she's an anglo Ontarian - decoding the French for a francophobic American audience, in a book published by an American company, Sourcebooks.
As the French themselves joke about their paradoxes, it might seem like a monumental job. Didn't President Charles de Gaulle complain of the difficulty of governing a nation that made nearly 300 kinds of cheese?
They smoke, drink and eat more fat than anyone, yet live longer and healthier; French society values philosophers over lawyers, but honours Jerry Lewis and Mickey Rourke; dog owners can't be bothered to pick up after beloved pets but happily pay high taxes for municipal poop-machines that vacuum the sidewalks. Go figure.
The project started when an American foundation granted Nadeau a two-year fellowship to study why the French resist globalization.
But within three weeks on the ground in Paris, it became clear that the French aren't. "So the real question, then, is why do we think they do? Why is it always the French? They are not alone in having problems with the Internet, the Mutual Accord on Investments, or American culture. So why is everyone harping on the French?" Nadeau asked.
The New Hampshire-based Institute for Current World Affairs, which paid the couple's bills, agreed to a change of focus and a travelogue was born.
They crisscrossed the country starting from their Paris apartment in the 18i?me arrondissement near the Montmarte cemetery.
The objective, said Barlow, was to get beyond the clich?s about the French and explain them from the inside out.
But the intended audience is North American, as misconceptions about the French having "French attitude" are standard on both sides of the U.S. border, Barlow said.
It was, in fact, the first thing each of their 75 visitors commented on ("We were a hotel," Barlow jokes.)
"It was too systematic: 'The French are rude.' And they haven't even spent two days in Paris. And I had the same perception. What's going on?"
Well, it's not about the French, Barlow said. It's culture clash.
For example, starting a conversation American-style doesn't work, Nadeau said: "Asking someone's name and what he does in life is rude -- like asking someone to get naked. It's the last thing you ask, it's private."
And conversation or debate is cultivated from an early age. Argument is to the French what opera is to the Italians and theatre is to the British, the authors said.
"It's like whacking a ball back and forth until someone wins and everyone is happy," Barlow said of heated discussions. "But at first it was: 'Why are you attacking me? Don't you want to get to know me?' "
This is hardly the couple's first collaborative effort. They've been editing each other's work in both of Canada's official languages for years, having published in Saturday Night magazine and L'Actualit?, among other Canadian magazines.
They're no strangers to the study of fundamental cultural differences between the English and the French. Their own marriage is a fusion of two cultures.
When they met a decade ago, Barlow wasn't fluently bilingual, so they turned their home into a living language laboratory, speaking French exclusively for one week, English the next.
The usual cultural, linguistic tensions found in mixed couples had an outlet though work, Barlow said, with each partner bringing specific fields of expertise to the table.
The book is a mix of anecdotes, observations, history and political analysis. As the French revere their writers, the couple were invited to dinners and parties, functions and ceremonies.
"We ran (our observations) through an anglo filter and through a French filter. (Nadeau) has a more intuitive grasp of French culture," Barlow said, while she's more in tune with North Americans.
"We would go over our impressions and decide what things meant," Barlow said. The book was written in tandem as a "four-handed job." He crafted the first draft, she worked on the second.
The result is an unsentimental snapshot of a people's psyche, warts and all, packed into 352 pages. A British publisher has signed on and a French publisher is in the works.
Sixty Million Frenchmen is a sympathetic look at a complex culture of an ancient people. After all, like the Cree or the Japanese or the Danes, why shouldn't the French have their idiosyncrasies?
Incidentally, the book's title was chosen long ago, March 2000, before the Iraq crisis, Nadeau said: "Can you believe it? It's always the French."

cfidelman@thegazette.canwest.com