18 November, 2006 | 6 Comments

Taken this evening especially for you, my lovelies.

Kisses,

Anglofille xxx

17 November, 2006 | 2 Comments

The Socialist Party overwhelmingly chose her to be their candidate ahead of French national elections next April, putting her in a position to possibly become France’s first female president. Interestingly, she is unmarried but lives with the father of her four children. I know virtually nothing about French politics, but anyone with a domestic situation like Royal’s could never run for president in the US, that’s for sure. If she wins the election, it will be revolutionary in more ways than one.

17 November, 2006 | Comments

Today I had to give a report in front of the class. We all have to take turns doing this. It can be on any topic we want, just nothing political. So I did my report on the Lost Generation (Hemingway, etc.). I didn’t really put much effort into it. I wrote it using words and verb conjugations I already have memorized. (I was too tired to consult my books last night.) It’s not easy to write about 1920s Paris using only the present verb tense, but it can be done with a little creativity.

In other news, we found out this week when our final exam will be held in January. It’s, like, 12 hours long and held in a secret location outside Paris. Bloody hell. I’m already resigned to the fact that I will flunk — and flunk with gusto. Hence, I feel no stress whatsoever. Our professor has already written off the whole class anyway. Yesterday she shouted at us in frustration: “If it takes you ten minutes to form a sentence, you’ll never be able to talk to anyone!!!” With encouragement like that, you can’t go wrong.

16 November, 2006 | 2 Comments

I live just a few minutes walk from the Place de la République, one of Paris’s grandes places. Paris is filled with these giant squares (for lack of a better term, which doesn’t necessarily have an equivalent in English), among them Place de la Concorde and Place de la Bastille. Eight of Paris’s grands boulevards run from around the Madeleine to the Place de la République. It is always buzzing with traffic and people. At its center is an immense statue commemorating Paris’s republics. There are two squares on either side of the statue (which serves as a traffic circle) and around the perimeter of the square are shops and cafés. A column I read recently described République as Paris’s most “schizophrenic” place, “because it is so many things at once and takes on bits of the quartiers that converge on it from all sides: the Marais, the grands boulevards, the Bastille, the up-and-coming parts of the 11th [arrondissement], the heavily-accented flavors of the immigrant communities… ”

République is definitely an odd mixture, with Americana (McD, KFC, Holiday Inn), traditional French cafés, crepe and ice cream stands, French chain stores and a belle époque carousel filled with delighted children just yards away from homeless people camping in tents and passed out on the pavement. Shoppers and café goers co-exist with hungry people lined up for boxed lunches. It’s all rather strange to observe and defies any attempt at neat categorization. République is the traditional starting point for demonstrations in Paris. Every weekend I see a rally of some sort in one of the squares. This past spring during the massive demonstrations over the French jobs law, République was the site of major civil unrest.

The Place de la République is a constant presence in my life and I’ve grown quite fond of it. In a strange way, it feels like home already and I can’t imagine living in any other neighborhood. As such, I’ve tried to document it in a photo essay of sorts and in a video. Nothing compares to the real thing, but I hope in some small way I can give you a sense of what it’s like to live here.

[gv data="http://www.youtube.com/v/VLb9s_kfKYM" width="425" height="350"][/gv]

15 November, 2006 | 1 Comment

Today in class, the professor mentioned (just as a casual aside) that the university administration reports our class attendance to the police. This is an apparent safeguard against terrorists who use student visas to gain entrance into the country, then never attend class (as happened with the 9/11 hijackers). Funny that no one thought to tell us before today that we’re under government surveillance.

15 November, 2006 | Comments

‘Tis Pity

Originally uploaded by Anglofille.

Advert in the Paris métro for the French production of John Ford’s incest extravaganza “‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore,” in French titled “Dommage, qu’elle soit une putain.” I don’t think “Dommage” is a good replacement for “‘Tis Pity.” I was pleased, however, that I recognized the use of the subjunctive verb tense. Hurrah!

Under the title it states: “Come, Annabella, no more my sister now, but my love.” Ewwwwwwww.

14 November, 2006 | 6 Comments

In class the other day, we were asked to complete the sentence: “When I was a child, I was afraid that…” (I know this seems easy, but it’s actually quite complicated given the insane verb tenses involved.)

The teacher called on a British student in the front row and he replied: “When I was a child, I was afraid that a dog would eat me.”

And everyone in the class laughed. (Hey, we were bored.)

The teacher called on the Brazilian student sitting next to me, and she replied: “When I was a child, I was afraid that a monster lived under my bed.”

And everyone in the class laughed.

And then the teacher called on a very quiet and shy Korean student who always sits in the back row, and he replied: “When I was a child, I was afraid that my father would beat me.”

This was followed by awkward silence.

13 November, 2006 | 5 Comments

All over Paris there are signs that make me laugh, though I’m sure that’s not their intent. I saw this sign while walking around the Marais:

At first glance, this sign appears quite evil, as if it’s saying that parents and children aren’t welcome in the neighborhood or perhaps that single parenthood is a sin. But I think it’s urging parents to hold their child’s hand because this sign is posted on a particularly dangerous street for pedestrians (and given that this is Paris, that’s saying a lot). Still, I could be completely wrong about its meaning.

This sign can be seen all over Paris:

“I love my quarter: I shovel.” If only half of the city’s dog owners subscribed to this motto…

But this sign in my local métro is my favorite so far:

Every time I see this, I crack up (once or twice, at the end of a long day, I was in hysterics over of it). It’s posted on a door leading to a room that’s apparently filled with dangerous electrical equipment. I know I shouldn’t laugh at the image of someone being electrocuted, but come on. It’s so dramatic. Rarely does a warning sign convey such feelings of horror. First, there’s the balletic movement of the victim’s body. He’s going limp, but at the same time you can almost see the electrical current flowing through him. His mouth is agape, as if he’s pleading with God or his fellow métro passengers. But the best thing about this drawing is that the victim is not a sexless stick figure with a giant round head. No. This man (who I have dubbed “Jean-Pierre” for my own purposes) is wearing a suit with a fitted coat. His shoes (presumably leather) have heels. I’m guessing he’s a dapper older gentleman, perhaps accompanied by a small dog on a leash. We can see wisps of his hair standing up on the back of his head, yet another attempt by the Paris métro to humanize the man who dared to touch the forbidden door (RIP). You have to admit that given the drawing’s genre — “crude warning sign in silhouette” — it’s an exquisite piece of work.

13 November, 2006 | Comments

Four-in-One

Originally uploaded by Anglofille.

From the Jardin des Tuileries, you can see the obelisk in the Place de la Concorde and the Arc de Triomphe up the Champs Elysées; through the Arc you can see La Grande Arche de la Défense. From other vantage points in the garden, you can see the Tour Eiffel. The first time I visited the Tuileries, I wasn’t aware of the delights that awaited me. It’s like hitting the touristic jackpot. And when the horizon is a lovely orange color, even better.

11 November, 2006 | 5 Comments

Yesterday I told someone I had to “hotten” something in the microwave. Oh dear.

11 November, 2006 | Comments

The French passion for science led to a gnomon, in the form of a bronze meridian line, being constructed inside St. Sulpice. [Forget all that Da Vinci Code nonsense!] At noon on the Winter Solstice, a tiny ray of light shines through a small hole in the south transept window. It strikes the brass meridian line in such a precise way that light illuminates an obelisk inside the church. The obelisk bears the inscription: “Two Scientists with God’s Help.” This magical moment only lasts for a few seconds, apparently. Given that the Winter Solstice is my birthday, I would quite like to see this. It would make me feel special. I like feeling special.

10 November, 2006 | 7 Comments

At newsstands all over Paris, there are giant posters on display of this magazine cover:

The first time I saw a poster of this cover at a newsstand last week, I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, aghast. This is the latest issue of Score, a cinema magazine. The battered beauty is international sex symbol Monica Bellucci, who is publicizing her new film Le Concile de Pierre. The cover states: “Monica Bellucci in hostile territory. Chic actress and shocking photos. In Le Concile de Pierre, she passes from a seductress to a woman of action.” There’s an even more disturbing photo inside, accompanying the article that is entitled “Raging Belle.”

I probably don’t need to point out how disturbing it is that a battered woman is being presented in such a glamorous way. Given the way Bellucci is styled — with her perfect hair, make-up and couture — the only conclusion one can draw is that a bruised and bloodied woman is sexy. Some tiresome people will argue that in the new film, Bellucci is an action heroine, that she’s tough and that this just proves women aren’t delicate creatures but can kick butt just like men. Hail feminism! (I can always predict such arguments — they’re so…predictable.) To me, that’s just a bullshit rationalization for cheap shock value and publicity that is highly irresponsible and repugnant. If she’s so tough, she sure got an ass whooping from somebody. The message this sends to the countless children and teens who are seeing this image on posters all over town is that women are victims, that if you’re a girl you should expect to be beaten up, that suffering is female, that violence against women is acceptable. If this offends you, you can write to Score Magazine at: contact@score.fr. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know French. I guarantee you that members of their staff speak fluent English. If nothing else, send them a link to this post.

And while I’m on this topic of violence against women, there are movie ads for The Black Dahlia all over town — everywhere. I snapped this photo in the métro station the other night — the third one I’d seen in less than an hour:

In this ad, we see a dead woman portrayed as an object of beauty and lust. The dead woman in question is Elizabeth Short, aka Black Dahlia. She was murdered in horrific fashion (and presumably raped and tortured first). Her corpse — which was chopped in half and mutilated — was dumped in a vacant lot. To me, this just screams sexy!

The fact that Elizabeth Short — a real woman who died a savage death — is being portrayed like this is disgusting and shameful. I don’t know about you other ladies out there, but if I ever have the misfortune to be tortured to death and mutilated by a psychopath, I hope a salacious movie is made of my life and that perverts around the world enjoy getting off while looking at glam images of my rotting corpse.

We never see sexy images of men who’ve been beaten or killed like this — why not? Because those pictures don’t sell magazines or movie tickets. But images of suffering, beaten or glamorously dead women are titillating, apparently. When we view such images, we assume that a man inflicted the violence or death upon the woman. Therefore, for many twisted individuals, such images reinforce notions of (perceived) male physical power over women and of women’s status as helpless victims. The dynamics here are much the same as with pornography — the dehumanization and degradation of women that results in sexual gratification for the viewer. (The kind of viewer, I might add, who would be aroused by the sight of a dead woman because no woman with a pulse would have him.) In many ways, these images are worse than pornography because they’re dressed up as something of artistic value. But underneath the Hollywood veneer, they’re nothing more than trash designed to play on the viewer’s base impulses.

9 November, 2006 | Comments

It’s the month of the photo here, an event that is held every two years in November to celebrate Paris as a major world centre of photography. All over the city there are exhibits, screenings, round-table discussions and more. Very exciting!

Last weekend while walking around my neighborhood, I was enchanted by two photo-related sights. First, a wall on rue Charlot that is plastered with pictures of people looking at the sky is very cool. The photos were taken over the past few months at a local school:

I also spotted this massive banner advertising a show in my neighborhood:

I hope to see the Doisneau exhibit at the Hotel de Ville. Every time I pass by, the queue is out the door!

9 November, 2006 | 11 Comments

The Democrats now have control of Congress once again. And the new Senate Majority Leader for the Democrats is a religious Mormon who is anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage and anti-gun control. So y’all, please don’t get your hopes up for what the Democrats will do. I’m glad they’re back in power, given the only other alternative. But they’re sell outs. They don’t stand on Democratic principles (clearly, given their choice of Reid). Instead, they follow polls and try to appease the right-wing. If the Democratic party were transported to Europe, they’d be considered conservatives. We really only have two political parties in America — conservative and a-little-bit-less conservative. The Republican-lites are back in control. It’ll be very interesting to see what they do — or don’t do.

8 November, 2006 | 3 Comments

Given that I spent a great deal of time earlier this year trashing South Dakota on my blog, I guess I should comment on the fact that the voters there overturned the state’s misogynist and vile abortion ban. I believe that part of the reason they voted to overturn this law is because South Dakota became a national pariah and its residents were humiliated on a grand scale. This was due largely to the efforts of feminist and pro-choice groups and I’m proud that bloggers played a big part in keeping this issue alive. Such coordinated efforts, including boycotts, can be quite effective, as we saw with Wal-Mart’s reversal of its ban on emergency contraception. It gives me some small measure of hope to know that we do have ways to strike back and that we’re not completely powerless. Most importantly, the women of South Dakota have now taken back control of their bodies from the American version of the Taliban running their state. That is a victory for all American women.

8 November, 2006 | Comments

I just heard what sounded exactly like an air raid siren blasting all over my neighborhood.  I have no idea what this means, but it’s freaky.

8 November, 2006 | 3 Comments

I’m so glad that in the elections yesterday, seven states voted to ban gay marriage. This is a relief. Before moving to London, I lived in Massachusetts, the only state to legalize gay marriage. And since that measure was approved a couple years ago, the godless Bay State has experienced hurricanes, avalanches, earthquakes, swarms of locusts, plagues, Red Sox players defecting to the Yankees, tsunamis, the collapse of the traditional nuclear family, widespread drug addiction, an increase in potholes, traffic jams on the Mass Pike, forest fires, tornadoes, Larry Summers leaving Harvard, abortions performed in churches, legalized prostitution and the complete breakdown of the moral fabric of society. Now you know why I moved.

But thankfully, the good people of Colorado, Idaho, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Virginia and Wisconsin have been spared God’s vindictive wrath. The whole world may be going to pot, but what’s really important in a democratic election in the world’s only remaining superpower is to go to the polls and vote for hatred and intolerance. So to those who voted this way, good going! God loves you. Jesus loves you. And what’s really cool is that Osama bin Laden and virtually every Islamic fundamentalist on the planet would have voted the same exact way. So you see, they aren’t your enemy. You have so much in common!

7 November, 2006 | 1 Comment

I was invited to an election get-together at a bar in Les Halles tonight, but I’m not going. For one thing, it’s freezing outside. For another thing, it’s not my desire to be part of an American colony in Paris. (In the interest of full disclosure, I have not really liked any of the Americans I’ve met here in Paris so far. The ones I’ve met — especially those who have lived here for a while — seem pretentious and not necessarily interested in befriending other Americans.) And lastly (and perhaps more importantly), even if the Dems take back control of Congress, they haven’t earned it. Don’t get me wrong, I hope they win it all, but it just means that the Republicans will have lost and the Dems won by default. So I’m not in a celebratory mood.

I could have gone to a pub with a few zany Britons from my phonetics class — I didn’t know there were any pubs in Montparnasse? I didn’t go because I was still considering going to the election party, plus these particular classmates are only 18 and probably invited me just because they wanted to do something nice for an elderly person (that’s me). I promised to go with them soon, however, and they seemed quite excited about this for a reason I do not understand. So now I’m home, sitting on the sofa under a blanket, eating pasta out of a steaming hot bowl. And you know, this is exactly where I want to be on such a freezing night.

Happy Election Day, mes amis over yonder in the Étas-Unis. Don’t get too crazy!

7 November, 2006 | 2 Comments

The flowers in Paris are regularly sending me into fits of ecstasy. The other day after I visited the site where Jim Morrison broke on through to the other side (oh, come on!) I rounded the corner and on the rue St. Antoine, I stumbled upon the most divine flower shop ever, called Comme Ça. Pink. Roses. Everywhere. I had to keep fanning myself. Unfortunately I’m too poor to buy any of them. I used to buy myself a flower in London (flower singular, as in one stem) but in Paris, selling flowers by the stem is not as common it doesn’t seem. I have an intense yearning for one of those pink roses. I fantasize about them. The mere thought of them fills me with lust of the most intense kind. If you want to call Comme Ça and have them deliver a bouquet to me, I’ll send you my address. Really, it’s the least you can do.

Click below for more tantalizing imagery…

(more…)

6 November, 2006 | 9 Comments

I was inspired by The Girl Who Ate Everything to try a French macaron. Her set of macarons photos on Flickr is divine! I think she’s eating macarons everyday while she’s here studying in Paris.

I’ve seen the colorful little macarons all over Paris but I wasn’t sure what they were exactly. They are obviously nothing like the macaroons we have in the uncivilized English-speaking world. (Actually, I love macaroons. I come from a family of macaroon lovers.)

After reading the aforementioned blog and talking to my American friend who studied at the Cordon Bleu, I made my way to the flagship Ladurée shop and tea salon on the Champs-Elysées. Apparently, Ladurée is the place to go for macarons. I went on a Saturday, which was not a good idea. But as I was waiting for ages in the queue I looked at the pastries and delights behind the glass and felt dizzy and slightly high. I was standing behind a group of French teenage girls who were bursting with excitement at the thought of trying a macaron. I managed to take one photo inside the shop before I got yelled at. (I get yelled at a lot.)

I wasn’t sure if the reality of the macarons could live up to the hype, but oh yes, they did. And then some. I can’t begin to describe it, but here goes: Ahhhhhhhh. Yummmmm.

The macarons are slightly crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, plus they’re filled with jam or ganache or cream, depending on the flavor. They come in two sizes — mini (”gerbert”) and full-size. I wanted to try a few flavors so I went with the minis. I tried all different kinds — pistachio, chocolate, lemon, strawberry, orange flower — but my favorites were anise (liquorice), rose petal and red fruits. In summer they have lime basil and mint! Can’t wait to try those. I asked my friend if food coloring was used to give the macarons their bright colors and she was appalled at the thought. Oops. Apparently, they use natural food colorings created from such things as powder made from dehydrated berries and nuts. Hell, what do I know. I may be a glamorous macarons-eating Paris inhabitant, but I guess at heart I’m just a hick.