A British Bent

Strangely enough my life in France has lately been dominated by the not always so friendly neighbor, Great Britain. English is my native language. My biggest news source here is the BBC world. As a person residing abroad, neither of these vestiges of British imperialism should be considered anything but natural. They are so downright common that it'd be strange to have it any other way.

Seemingly conscious choices have marked the shift from the normal day to day life as an English speaker to a complete inundation of Britannia. In the past couple of weeks I've not only become somewhat addicted to reading the Guardian but I've also begun to read A People's History of England by A.L. Morton, a Marxist intellectual from Suffolk. The former can be easily explained or excused since the Guardian is an award winning paper. Since I (and in many ways the world as well) have no real use for communism, reading a 1938 Marxist interpretation of England's history up until WWI would seem a bit pointless. Discounting the outmoded nature of the book (historically and politically), it has turned out to be an interesting read.

Adding to my current reading choices are my film choices. It is a bit misleading to say "I" since the choices have been as much mine as they have been Morgane's. Therefore our Britannic lean in film can be termed a "we" instead of a "me." We've had a whirlwind tour of the United Kingdom of late. We've inundated ourselves with 16th century dramas, one great (Elizabeth) and two decent (The Other Boleyn Girl, Elizabeth-The Golden Age). Robert Altman transported us back to another time with his English manor mystery Gosford Park while Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett reminded us why they are two of the best in the business with Notes On a Scandal, a heartbreaking (and at times uncomfortable) peek into solitude and human relations.

Though all of these things have conspired to give my time here a decidedly British tilt, it was not something I set about on my own. My first inclination was that it perhaps was just a phase, a new penchant for something beyond the "known". This would seem logical if I had consciously conspired to consume the culture of my own accord. Though each choice was itself conscious, the larger motif was never purposely set upon.

When I experience culture it is generally through the English language. In America I can experience foreign locales and other worlds because although the medium might be foreign the explanation or subtitles will always be English. Despite the fact that my French has improved quite a bit, I'm still unable to easily read French for pleasure and still struggle to keep up during French films. Amidst it all it struck me that each passing day here brings to me more and more a feeling of "home" and of belonging. Often I still feel wholly separate and am still very much an outsider but, each time I pop into a shop or take the train into town it feels less so. Each day I spend in France it becomes less of an oddity and more of a home. And thus the subconscious reasoning behind my recent British tilt became apparent. As France became a home, British culture replaced it as an escape. Through the common tongue it has allowed the chance to once again experience a separate world.