There may be 28 countries in the European Union – soon to be 27, unless our Government betrays us – but its soul is French.
That crucial fact goes a long way to explaining why the EU is apparently determined to make Brexit as miserable and tortuous as possible — even at the cost of harming itself...
DAMIAN THOMPSON Arrogant and snooty — why the national dish of France should be coq au vain
The culture of the EU is unmistakably French and that crucial fact goes a long way to explaining why the Bloc is apparently determined to make Brexit as miserable and tortuous as possible — even at the cost of harming itself
Comment
By Damian Thompson
2nd August 2018
The Sun
THERE may be 28 countries in the European Union – soon to be 27, unless our Government betrays us – but its soul is French.
That crucial fact goes a long way to explaining why the EU is apparently determined to make Brexit as miserable and tortuous as possible — even at the cost of harming itself.
For a proudly republican country, it’s strange how waiters and sales assistants expect to be treated like minor royalty, and this 'hauteur' - looking down on people - extends into EU culture
France isn’t an economic powerhouse, unless you are comparing it to Venezuela.
But the culture of the EU is unmistakably French, and we’re not talking about the elegance of the Parisian catwalk or the rustic cuisine of sun-baked Provence.
The Common Market was founded by Frenchmen. Alas, little remains of their idealism. Instead, the European Commission has inherited a Gallic mixture of inflexibility, defensiveness and — only a French word will do — hauteur.
Hauteur implies looking down on people. That’s a challenge for the French president, Emmanuel Macron, who’s unkindly rumoured to wear elevator shoes. But no doubt he’ll manage it when, tomorrow, Mrs May travels to France to beg him to rein in the EU’s bloody-minded chief Brexit negotiator, his fellow Frenchman Michel Barnier.
EU’s bloody-minded chief Brexit negotiator - and Frenchman - Michel Barnier
The presence at the heart of the Brexit talks of two deeply ambitious Frenchmen — Barnier is desperate to become president of the European Commission — is very bad news for Britain.
Macron and Barnier share a haughtiness rooted in France’s deep insecurity.
That’s understandable. France has a lot to be insecure about, especially when you compare it to Britain, whose GDP is growing faster than France’s.
Over there, unemployment has jumped to 9.2 per cent. Here it has fallen to 4.2 per cent, the lowest since 1975.
In other respects, it’s France that is stuck in the Seventies.
Between 2009 and 2013, it lost 171 days to strikes per 1,000 workers. We lost just 24.
Do you remember the days when a single cancelled tea break sent up cries of “All out, brothers!”? Mrs Thatcher brought an end to that.
There’s something cosmetic about France’s modernisation. Rub off the thin layer of overpriced crème hydratante and the wrinkles appear. The food is stuck in the past — everything doused in artery-clogging sauces that ought to come with a defibrillator.
Mrs May travels to France to beg Emmanuel Macron to rein in fellow Frenchman Michel Barnier
No wonder that French businessmen are digging themselves out of the paperwork and heading to London — which, in terms of population, is now France’s sixth largest city and bigger than Bordeaux.
Does this come as a surprise to you? I doubt it. French hauteur filters down from the Elysée Palace to the most ordinary restaurant or café. I was going to say “humblest”, but that’s one adjective that doesn’t apply to French waiters, shop assistants or anyone sitting behind a counter.
If you regularly visit Paris, you’ll know that Gallic rudeness is not a myth. I’ve been reading French experts on etiquette, and they all say the same thing. Yes, their fellow countrymen can be jolly rude to customers and tourists. But, they add patronisingly, you can escape their froideur if you follow their rules to the letter.
You must say “Bonjour” before you buy anything. You must observe French table ceremony — don’t take a sip of wine before the whole company does. Don’t put your arms under the table. Cut the cheese in the approved manner. Etc. Keep grovelling to the staff.
Even French food is stuck in the past — everything doused in artery-clogging sauces that ought to come with a defibrillator
For a proudly republican country, it’s strange how waiters and sales assistants expect to be treated like minor royalty.
“Remember that, as a customer, you are a guest of the establishment,” says one guide to manners.
Really? And the French are surprised that the world isn’t queuing up to do business with them?
This ridiculous “guest” mentality is one of the aspects of French culture, along with its mandarin bureaucracy, that is crippling the EU. It also explains why the French are so keen to twist the knife before Britain leaves.
France always regarded us as unwelcome guests in the European clubhouse. Now we’re leaving, they’re acting like countless French hoteliers, jacking up the bill and throwing a strop when we ask them to be reasonable.
In the short term, we’re going to have to display some stroppiness of our own. Otherwise we’ll be fleeced, or detained in the lobby while the management call the gendarmes.
In the long term — once we’re out — there are grounds for optimism. Macron will probably fail in his attempts to reform the rigid French state. That bodes well for an independent and flexible United Kingdom.
And if you don’t believe me, take a look at a headline from this week. The Eiffel Tower, more popular than ever, is drawing record numbers of tourists. That’s putting extra strain on the staff who work there.
Their response? You guessed it — they’re going on strike!
Damian Thompson is associate editor of The Spectactor
https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/6920557/damian-thompson-national-dish-france-coq-au-vain/
That crucial fact goes a long way to explaining why the EU is apparently determined to make Brexit as miserable and tortuous as possible — even at the cost of harming itself...
DAMIAN THOMPSON Arrogant and snooty — why the national dish of France should be coq au vain
The culture of the EU is unmistakably French and that crucial fact goes a long way to explaining why the Bloc is apparently determined to make Brexit as miserable and tortuous as possible — even at the cost of harming itself
Comment
By Damian Thompson
2nd August 2018
The Sun
THERE may be 28 countries in the European Union – soon to be 27, unless our Government betrays us – but its soul is French.
That crucial fact goes a long way to explaining why the EU is apparently determined to make Brexit as miserable and tortuous as possible — even at the cost of harming itself.
For a proudly republican country, it’s strange how waiters and sales assistants expect to be treated like minor royalty, and this 'hauteur' - looking down on people - extends into EU culture
France isn’t an economic powerhouse, unless you are comparing it to Venezuela.
But the culture of the EU is unmistakably French, and we’re not talking about the elegance of the Parisian catwalk or the rustic cuisine of sun-baked Provence.
The Common Market was founded by Frenchmen. Alas, little remains of their idealism. Instead, the European Commission has inherited a Gallic mixture of inflexibility, defensiveness and — only a French word will do — hauteur.
Hauteur implies looking down on people. That’s a challenge for the French president, Emmanuel Macron, who’s unkindly rumoured to wear elevator shoes. But no doubt he’ll manage it when, tomorrow, Mrs May travels to France to beg him to rein in the EU’s bloody-minded chief Brexit negotiator, his fellow Frenchman Michel Barnier.
EU’s bloody-minded chief Brexit negotiator - and Frenchman - Michel Barnier
The presence at the heart of the Brexit talks of two deeply ambitious Frenchmen — Barnier is desperate to become president of the European Commission — is very bad news for Britain.
Macron and Barnier share a haughtiness rooted in France’s deep insecurity.
That’s understandable. France has a lot to be insecure about, especially when you compare it to Britain, whose GDP is growing faster than France’s.
Over there, unemployment has jumped to 9.2 per cent. Here it has fallen to 4.2 per cent, the lowest since 1975.
In other respects, it’s France that is stuck in the Seventies.
Between 2009 and 2013, it lost 171 days to strikes per 1,000 workers. We lost just 24.
Do you remember the days when a single cancelled tea break sent up cries of “All out, brothers!”? Mrs Thatcher brought an end to that.
There’s something cosmetic about France’s modernisation. Rub off the thin layer of overpriced crème hydratante and the wrinkles appear. The food is stuck in the past — everything doused in artery-clogging sauces that ought to come with a defibrillator.
Mrs May travels to France to beg Emmanuel Macron to rein in fellow Frenchman Michel Barnier
No wonder that French businessmen are digging themselves out of the paperwork and heading to London — which, in terms of population, is now France’s sixth largest city and bigger than Bordeaux.
Does this come as a surprise to you? I doubt it. French hauteur filters down from the Elysée Palace to the most ordinary restaurant or café. I was going to say “humblest”, but that’s one adjective that doesn’t apply to French waiters, shop assistants or anyone sitting behind a counter.
If you regularly visit Paris, you’ll know that Gallic rudeness is not a myth. I’ve been reading French experts on etiquette, and they all say the same thing. Yes, their fellow countrymen can be jolly rude to customers and tourists. But, they add patronisingly, you can escape their froideur if you follow their rules to the letter.
You must say “Bonjour” before you buy anything. You must observe French table ceremony — don’t take a sip of wine before the whole company does. Don’t put your arms under the table. Cut the cheese in the approved manner. Etc. Keep grovelling to the staff.
Even French food is stuck in the past — everything doused in artery-clogging sauces that ought to come with a defibrillator
For a proudly republican country, it’s strange how waiters and sales assistants expect to be treated like minor royalty.
“Remember that, as a customer, you are a guest of the establishment,” says one guide to manners.
Really? And the French are surprised that the world isn’t queuing up to do business with them?
This ridiculous “guest” mentality is one of the aspects of French culture, along with its mandarin bureaucracy, that is crippling the EU. It also explains why the French are so keen to twist the knife before Britain leaves.
France always regarded us as unwelcome guests in the European clubhouse. Now we’re leaving, they’re acting like countless French hoteliers, jacking up the bill and throwing a strop when we ask them to be reasonable.
In the short term, we’re going to have to display some stroppiness of our own. Otherwise we’ll be fleeced, or detained in the lobby while the management call the gendarmes.
In the long term — once we’re out — there are grounds for optimism. Macron will probably fail in his attempts to reform the rigid French state. That bodes well for an independent and flexible United Kingdom.
And if you don’t believe me, take a look at a headline from this week. The Eiffel Tower, more popular than ever, is drawing record numbers of tourists. That’s putting extra strain on the staff who work there.
Their response? You guessed it — they’re going on strike!
Damian Thompson is associate editor of The Spectactor
https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/6920557/damian-thompson-national-dish-france-coq-au-vain/
