Frères Ennemis The French in American Literature, Americans in French Literature Frères Ennemis The French in American Literature, Americans in French Literature William Cloonan L I V ER POOL U N I V ER SI T Y PR ESS First published 2018 by Liverpool University Press 4 Cambridge Street Liverpool L69 7ZU Copyright © 2018 William Cloonan The right of William Cloonan to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication data A British Library CIP record is available print ISBN 978-1-78694-132-9 cased epdf ISBN 978-78694-935-6 Typeset by Carnegie Book Production, Lancaster Table of Contents Acknowledgments ix Preface xi Introduction: A Clash of the Comparable 1 Chapter I: The Creation of the American in Paris: The American 13 Chapter II: The Splendor and Misery of the American Scientist: L’Ève future 40 Chapter III: The American Woman and the Invention of Paris: The Custom of the Country 68 Chapter IV: The Expatriate Idyll: The Sun Also Rises 98 Chapter V: Truths and Delusions: The Cold War in Les Mandarins 126 Chapter VI: Embracing American Culture: Cherokee 151 Chapter VII: An American Excursion into French Fiction: The Book of Illusions 179 Chapter VIII: Rerouting: Ça n’existe pas l’Amérique 206 Chapter IX: L’Américaine in Paris: Le Divorce 234 Conclusion: Stasis and Movement 259 Selected Bibliography 275 Index 287 For Betty ix Acknowledgments I have been inspired and supported throughout my career by Robert Saba, Harry Rosser, and Alexander Dunlop, who provide stringent critiques while remaining the best of friends. A more recent friend, but equally a source of inspiration, is Alec Hargreaves, who has helped me greatly through his encouragement and his knowledge of modern and contemporary France’s political and social history. Terri Johnson has been a tremendous asset in terms of research. Over the years she has managed to uncover both what I had been seeking and what I ought to have been seeking. I am very grateful to her. Wolfgang Adolph has been a calming presence during my too frequent computer crises; his knowledge in that area is vast, as is his ability to assure people like me that, even if a chapter has suddenly seemed to vanish into cyberspace, it is not really lost. Lindsey Scott has proven to be an outstanding proofreader and kindly critic regarding matters of content and form as well as a gifted indexer. Jean-Philippe Postel has been an excellent reader and proofreader, as well as a meticulous and inspired critic, particularly concerning my comments on French culture. Finally, I am deeply grateful to Chloé Johnson and Anthony Cond, both editors at Liverpool University Press who have shepherded me from start to finish through the process of writing this book. xi Preface Les deux Princes sortaient pour s’arracher la vie, Que d’une égale ardeur ils y couraient tous les deux, Et que jamais leurs cœurs ne s’accordèrent mieux. (Racine, La Thébaïde ou Les Frères Ennemis , Act V, scene iii, 110) André Fougeron’s (1913–1998) painting Atlantic Civilization (1953), which adorns the cover of the volume (and can be seen on the Tate’s website) could serve as an iconic image of Franco-American relations from the nineteenth century to at least the middle of the Cold War. The painting mingles social critique with caricature, the serious with the silly. In a series of striking, if burlesque, figures, Fougeron presents an impressive array of French dissatisfactions with Americans, as well as with their own government’s obsequiousness during the Yankee postwar occupation. At the center of the canvas is a gigantic automobile which vaguely resembles an Oldsmobile with an armed German soldier emerging from the roof. Next to the car is a subservient, overweight French politician acquiescing to the American desire to rearm Germany. His corpulence contrasts with the thinness of the elderly, possibly homeless, French couple on a bench. Younger people peer out from an air-raid shelter made necessary by American saber rattling. Children play in pollution caused by factories belching smoke, factories doubtlessly financed in part by American industrialists. A marble pedestal serves as the base for an electric chair evoking the recent execution (1953) of Ethel and Julius Rosenberg for spying against the United States. The lazy Frères Ennemis xii soldier with a girlie magazine alludes to the unwanted and often dangerous presence of the American military on French soil, while the black boy shining shoes references American racism. Less overtly anti-American, the image of the H.L.M. ( habitation à loyer moderé ) recalls the urgent need for cheap housing after the war to shelter French citizens displaced by Allied bombings. A poster on the wall to the right, coupled with the coffins and the dead child in the arms of a woman of color, recall France’s recent colonial misadventures. While the French griefs against l’Amérique may not be completely justified, they are at least open to discussion. But the presentation here is so lacking in nuance as to preclude any reaction other than rejection or acceptance. Elements not presented in the painting are references to the causes of American displeasure with the French. The Gallic belittlement of the Marshall Plan, as a political ploy to strengthen American power in France; the widespread insistence by French intellectuals that the Cold War, created by the Americans, required France to make a clear choice between solidarity with the Soviet Union or the United States, a choice that was self-evident for the left; the haughty disparagement of American consumer goods and popular culture by a nation which craved both – these were some of the factors which led Americans to lose patience with the French and proclaim with increasing shrillness that America had saved France during the war with little help from the local citizenry. Here too, despite the rhetorical overkill, there were issues which merited discussion, but more often than not, it was posturing and exaggeration on both sides which carried the day. Frères Ennemis seeks to examine the literary expression of the mutual frustrations and antagonisms bedeviling two nations which share largely similar values, but frequently find themselves at odds, often for reasons which appear trivial next to what unites them. Less bloodthirsty toward each other than Racine’s Étécole and Polynice in La Thébaïde , France and the United States nevertheless often appear to behave like two warring siblings, more given to bombast than persuasion. The ensuing chapters will chronicle the acting out of this phenomenon at different moments in time. In the waning years of the Cold War, French attitudes, at least in their literary expression, would soften somewhat, as more nuanced versions of l’Amérique and its denizens began to appear in contemporary novels. Just as historical and cultural events contributed initially to each nation’s antagonistic perception of the other, these same factors, encouraged by the Preface xiii eight years of the Obama administration, have affected France’s currently more tolerant view of the States. Opinions tied to current events are notoriously fragile, and it remains to be seen to what degree the current openness, at least in literature, to the American experience will survive the presidency of Donald Trump. 1 Introduction A Clash of the Comparable [Franco-American relations] have been, are, and always will be conflictive and excellent. It is the nature of things ... the U.S. finds France unbearably pretentious. And we find the U.S. unbearably hegemonic. There will always be sparks, but not fire ... (Jacques Chirac, cited in Richard Kuisel, The French Way , 91) It stands to reason that France was seen by many, especially in France itself, as the obvious cultural counter- weight to America ... France [saw itself] as an enlightened civilization whose fruits could, and indeed should, grow with profit everywhere. Americans had a similar view of their republic and its mission in the world. (Ian Buruma, Year Zero , 292) Jacques Chirac’s description of the Franco-American rapport as a seemingly endless acting out of tensions and rapprochements between frères ennemis provides a succinct, accurate summary of French and American personal and political behavior since the nineteenth century. Both nations have always been capable of finding something annoying or disappointing in the comportment of the other but, barring unforeseeable events, the two powers remain destined, or condemned, to be allies on the international scene, all the while eying their personal dealings with a degree of méfiance It is important to bear this simple truth in mind throughout the following analysis of the ways in which French and American fiction depict Frères Ennemis 2 the often fraught encounters between the citizens of the two countries. France and the United States are frequently at odds but, perhaps despite themselves, they are always allies. Allies who rarely forego the occasion to look down on each other, but without ever seriously contemplating a breaking up of their alliance. 1 Still, the somewhat confrontational national perceptions are striking and contribute to the “special” relationship that exists between the two countries and peoples. The study of French and American attitudes toward each other is hardly new. To cite a selection of the more recent works, Jean-Philippe Mathy’s Extrême-Occident (1993) attacks Franco-American tensions from a variety of perspectives, including literature, history, the social sciences, and even travel writing. In his French Resistance (2000), Mathy continues his examination of “Franco-American culture wars” through deft analyses of specific moments of Franco-American friction, such as the issue of “French Theory,” the Sokal Affair, 2 and different national understandings of colonialism and postmodernism. François Cusset’s French Theory (2003) considers the often uncritical American reaction to what he termed “French Theory,” an American rather than a French creation, as it emerged from the works of French thinkers such as Derrida, Lacan, and Foucault. The title of Philippe Roger’s L’ennemi américain: généologie de l’antiaméricanisme français (2002) clearly conveys its content. Charles Glass’s Americans in Paris: Life and Death under the Nazi Occupation (2010) also has a self-explanatory title. Richard Kuisel’s Seducing the French (1993) and then The French Way (2012) explore France’s efforts to accept and/or reject the American cultural invasion after World War II. David McCullough’s The Great Journey (2011) describes the often conflicted reception which American travelers received in France during the nineteenth century. Brooke Blower’s Becoming Americans in Paris (2001) analyzes the way the French and Americans in Paris reacted to political events between the two world wars and how these reactions affected their perceptions of each other. Jeffrey Herlihy-Merat and Vamisi Koneru edited Paris in American Literatures (2013), while Adam Gopnik edited Americans in Paris (2004). Somewhat earlier, in 1955, Thelma Smith and Ward Miner published The Contemporary American Novel in France . While literary references appear in all of these works, the primary analytic perspectives are for the most part drawn from history and the social sciences. The last three texts, while obviously dealing with literature, are not particularly concerned with Franco-American tensions, although the subject does emerge at times. Introduction 3 Frères ennemis is the first study to examine these tensions exclusively in terms of their literary expression. I do not wish to examine Franco-American attitudes toward each other in general, but rather the ways in which some specific viewpoints are filtered through selected, important literary texts. The novels I will study in the first five chapters and then again in Chapter IX all reflect, with some significant variations, a paradigm that represents a particularly important way in which the French and Americans have understood each other over time. I do not maintain that this paradigm constitutes the unique manner in which the French and Americans view each other in literary texts or that it remains stable over time. In fact, I insist that the paradigm’s longevity is due precisely to its ability to respond to political and social changes over the last 150 years. I argue that the framework I am about to describe has proven sufficiently supple to react to the shifts in the Franco-American rapport from approximately 1870 to the middle of the Cold War. From the end of the Cold War to the present, this paradigm largely does not apply. The one exception will be discussed in Chapter IX. This paradigm had its origins in the nineteenth century; it was challenged and dramatically rejected by a French writer in the 1980s, only to re-emerge in an American novel at the end of the twentieth century. While American literature maintains a certain fidelity to the past in its way of viewing the French, Gallic attitudes concerning Americans have proven much more open to change. French literature broke with the paradigm in the 1980s, and has recently begun to explore new ways of viewing the American experience. Both of these phenomena will be examined in detail. While I provide historical and cultural information for each chapter to better situate the text, the primary focus is on the individual novel under discussion. My interest is not simply in the tensions between the two countries, but also their transformation and expression in a work of literary imagination. For example, Villiers de l’Isle-Adam crystalizes France’s love-hate relationship in the personage of Thomas Edison, Hemingway decries the American exploitation of France and Spain through a rather devastating portrait of expatriates, and Simone de Beauvoir conveys Franco-American Cold War clashes through a love affair between a French woman and an American. Although historical and cultural contexts figure heavily in this study, I believe the best way to uncover the special nature of litera- ture’s contribution to an understanding of Franco-American tensions Frères Ennemis 4 requires careful, close reading – a technique that will be employed in the discussion of every novel in order to highlight the ways in which subtle and imaginative treatments of comparable materials can provide very different appreciations of the tensions between the two nations. A novel by Henry James, The American (1877), and a sociological study by Alexis de Tocqueville, De la démocratie en Amérique (1835), introduce a pattern of relationships between the French and the Americans, which will undergo developments and permutations up until the post-World War II era. Essentially, the paradigm portrays the French as perceiving Americans as forceful and wealthy, but uncultivated and naïve, while for the Americans the French appear as well-educated heirs to once-great cultural and political traditions which are now considered to be in decline. In addition, the Americans view the French as somewhat untrustworthy and in financial straits. 3 This paradigm in its pristine form appears to be based on rather rigid dichotomies: the present and future (American)–the past (French), naïve (American)–sophisticated (French), wealth (American)–financial need (French), open-minded (American)–close-minded (French), trustful (American)–distrustful (French), exploited (American)–exploiter (French), culturally inferior (American)–culturally superior (French). If this were the extent of the paradigm’s value, it could serve as a basis for a somewhat pedestrian reading of The American , but little else. What extends the paradigm’s value is, like Ray Noble’s musical piece which provides the title for Jean Echenoz’s Cherokee , its capacity for multiple, even extreme variations. In examining the novels in chapters one through five, and then in Chapter IX, these dichotomies, while remaining in place, will be largely reversed, or at least significantly altered. These changes will reflect the transformation of the respective importance of the United States and France on the world stage. Edith Wharton’s The Custom of the Country contains the clearest depiction of the paradigm’s transformation while guarding its essential elements. The novel, whose changes to the paradigm will be reflected in subsequent texts as well, offers an almost complete reversal of the prototype. The French are now cast as the naïve elements, while a form of sophistication is attributed to the nouveaux riches Americans who exploit the French in their native country. Open-mindedness increasingly becomes a French attribute. The American money to which Christopher Newman was mostly indifferent in The American becomes in later novels a weapon Introduction 5 for both controlling the French and keeping them at a distance. Americans grow suspicious and distrustful of the French, even as Gallic curiosity about them is on the rise. Growing self-confidence, even arrogance, on the part of American characters will reflect the nation’s burgeoning political and social prestige while French frustration will often seem the result of their country’s drifting into a position of secondary international importance. If a major function of the literary analysis I will provide involves discussing the paradigm’s reversal, that is not to say that while the dichotomies remain constant, they simply switch national identities. The vitality of the paradigm is contained in its instability. Some broad general changes do accompany the historical development of France and the United States, yet on a personal level there is considerable inconsistency. Individual French characters at times dominate and at other moments are dominated. The same American can be strong or weak toward a French person, depending upon circumstances. It is this instability of the paradigm, its suppleness and openness to change, that creates its dynamism. Roland Barthes’s essay “Le mythe, aujourd’hui” in Mythologies (1957) provides a perspective on how easily images of the Other can form, and how subject they are to myriad, even contradictory alterations. The qualities which Barthes assigns to myth are also the attributes I associate with the Franco-American paradigm I have described. For Barthes, there is nothing timeless or static about modern myth. Rather, it is a “système de communication ... un mode de signification” (181) which is subject to variations and possibly even disappearance, depending on the pressures bearing upon it: “Il n’y a aucune fixité dans les concepts mythiques: ils peuvent se faire, s’altérer, se défaire, disparaître complètement ... parce qu’ils sont historiques, que l’histoire peut très facilement les supprimer” (193). Due to its volatility, the myth can never be a symbol, which for Barthes must have a fixed meaning; instead it is what he terms a concept which provides a degree of meaning, but on a temporary basis (191). Hence the significance which the concept conveys is never without ambiguity: “Le savoir contenu dans le concept mythique est un savoir confus, formé d’association molle, illimitée. Il faut bien insister sur ce caractère ouvert du concept: ce n’est nullement une essence abstraite, purifiée; c’est une condensation informe, instable, nébuleuse, dont l’unité, la incohérence tiennent surtout à la fonction” (192). However, mythic ambiguity is never totally random; there always remains an at least tenuous Frères Ennemis 6 relation between the concept and the person or situation to which it refers: “la signification mythique ... n’est jamais complètement arbitraire; elle est toujours en partie motivée” (199). Perhaps the most striking quality of the modern myth, certainly its “caractère fondamental,” is that it is “ approprié ” (192; emphasis added); it is a meaning assigned in accordance with the needs of a particular moment. Barthes provides an example of the mythmaking process based on a photo he saw in Paris Match of an African soldier saluting the French flag. For some this could be an encouraging reminder of the beneficence of the French presence in Africa, which provided the poor natives with the possibility of a European education, modern health facilities, and job training. The soldier’s salute becomes, then, an expression of gratitude and love for all that France has given to his people and himself. Although acknowledging the coherence of this interpretation, Barthes rejects it and instead opts arbitrarily, based on his own political viewpoint, to see the soldier as a representative of “l’impérialité française” (191). One could also add a third, more extreme, mythic interpretation and propose, equally arbitrarily, that, with the passage of time and changes in the political situation in Francophone Africa, this loyal and grateful soldier could suddenly morph, in the eyes of the French, into a black guy with a gun. The specific opinions or desires of the subject being mythicized are unimportant since “le mythe est une parole définie par son intention” (197). With regard to this particular African soldier, it is insignificant what he thinks or even if he has the slightest idea that his personal presence, as he stands before the French flag, is being given a broader meaning. His situation has made him an individual transformed, however temporarily, into a mythic figure by another party. At the end of his mythic transformation, the African soldier looks exactly as he did at the beginning, even if in the mythmaking process his existence has taken on a more complex, yet fragile, meaning. Should circumstances change, his mythic status could come to signify something entirely different, or it could disappear completely. Thus, the soldier represents something greater than himself only when some individual or group wishes that to be the case. For Barthes, the modern myth is subject to constant change, reinter- pretation, or even outright rejection; its meaning is transient and never devoid of ambiguity. The significance associated with particular mythic constructions is never a reflection of the self-evident. Rather, it is assigned