The Paris we know and love, the Paris laid out by Haussmann,
the Paris of uniform building heights and of the grand boulevards emanating
from the Arc de Triomphe, was still more or less in place in 1936 - no Tour
Montparnasse, no hideous La Defense, no aeroplane din, less chaotic traffic,
only the intrusive Eiffel Tower to spoil the beautiful view. With every
justification she was known as The City of Light to celebrate her intoxicating
spirit.
 |
| L'Etoile |
In 1936, Paris was a byword for modernity. Like Britain,
France presided over a vast empire in Africa from Algeria to Madagascar and in
Asia from Syria to Indo-China, but Paris set the fashions, introduced the
designs, stimulated intellectual life, excited the arts of the cinema and the
theatre and her popular music, sung, whistled and hummed by millions, lightened
the routine burden of workers everywhere.
A typical song would be Boum! - a
catchy tune from iconic Charles Trenet.
For French trades unionists and industrial workers generally
1936 was a year of excited hope. After a succession of centre-right governments
and the nasty shock of the February 1934 Paris Riots, when right-wing
anti-democratic groups like Action
Francaise and Croix de Feu almost
staged a coup, the pendulum swung and in May 1936, Leon Blum formed a Popular
Front government with Socialist and Radical ministers and with the support of a
significant Communist bloc.
The government rushed into action passing 133 laws in 73
days. Amid a flurry of strikes, the Matignon
Accords were adopted protecting workers rights. The 40-hour working week
was defined, two weeks paid annual holiday became mandatory, collective
bargaining was introduced, unions and their officials could not be obstructed
and retaliation against strikers was outlawed. There was a raft of other
measures increasing civil service pay and ex-servicemen’s’ pensions – all an
apparent triumph for the workers. But the euphoria was short-lived; while wages
climbed 45%, prices cancelled that out with a 42% rise. French industry,
already in deep depression, made no progress. The outbreak of the Spanish Civil
War in 1936 polarised opinion and Blum’s espousal of cautious Non-Intervention
alienated many on the Left. The Popular Front coalition began to fracture and
fell apart in later 1937. The Socialist dream was over and the Popular Front
failure embittered an already divided nation.
 |
| Leon Blum's light flickers in 1936 |
 |
| Modern France - a 1936 Bugatti |
 |
| Modern France- a 1936 classic Citroen 7C Conservative currents were strong in France. Surprisingly, Left wing students were in a minority in the Latin Quarter with the right-wing Leagues attracting greater support. Philosophically, at the Sorbonne the influence of intuitive Henri Bergson remained strong; Charles Maurras’ nationalist stance originally attracted de Gaulle; Paul Claudel in drama and poetry and Jacques Maritain in essays proclaimed the values of the Catholic Church. Another Puritan was highly influential André Gide, a pederast with acute psychological insight, who moved across the political spectrum finally denouncing the Soviet Union after a visit in 1936. The Thibaults, an epic novel by Roger Martin du Gard, was widely admired. Not all were conservative; Voyage au bout de la Nuit, a tumultuous, misanthropic novel by Louis-Ferdinand Céline, astounded and impressed intellectual Paris in 1932, notably Sartre, with its depiction of mass production and its satire on bourgeois values. Marxist Sartre himself produced the powerful Nausea before succumbing to the role of apologist for Leftist totalitarianism, ending his friendship with humanist Raymond Aron |
Intellectual exchanges were a feature of French café life at
the likes of the Dôme in Montparnasse or Les Deux Magots at St Germain des Prés.
But life is not defined by politics, philosophy and economics. Just as
important are fun and games which Paris provided in abundance. Maurice Chevalier,
the clichéd embodiment of the romantic Frenchman, with his trademark boater,
returned from heady Hollywood success to conduct an affair with ageing
Mistinguett, the toast of 1920s Paris.
The end of aristocratic Europe was movingly evoked in Jean
Renoir’s pacifist movie La Grande Illusion but less seriously elegant
Arletty was to be seen in Fric-Frac.
Years later Arletty was demonised for her notorious affair with a German
officer to which her spirited retort was My
heart is French, but my ass is international! In a music-hall in Pigalle, a
diminutive street-singer dressed all in black made her debut – matchless Edith
Piaf. Sasha Guitry trod the boards in the fancier theatres, Coco Chanel dressed
the chic, and the Americans flooded in, - Hemingway, Pound, Sinclair Lewis et al happily propping up the bars with
no nostalgia for Des Moines, Iowa.
The party was in full spate. Jean Sablon provided his
“clip-clop” song, the jaunty Le Fiacre
(The Horse-drawn Cab), the night-clubs, cabarets and music halls were rocking.
 |
| Elegant Arletty |
 |
| Coco Chanel |
Another Jean Sablon song was Paris, tu n’a pas changé but come 1940, Paris was to change and suffer grievously
in the bitterness of Defeat, Occupation and Collaboration. It took many years
for the Parisian spirit to return to 1936 levels but she now blooms again in
all her glory.
SMD
15.06.16
Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment