France

Here’s The Economist reporting developments in France: THE Gaullist backlash against Nicolas Sarkozy’s new Atlanticism has begun in earnest, and its new poster boy is Dominique de Villepin… Not only did he denounce the French president’s decision, which was warmly greeted by George Bush at last week’s NATO summit in Bucharest, to send an extra French battalion (some 700 troops) to Afghanistan. He went on to chastise Sarkozy for planning to reintegrate France into NATO’s military command structure. “Not only is the return of France to NATO not in our country’s interests, but I also think it’s dangerous,” he said: “We will lose space to manoeuvre, space to be independent”

Daniel Drezner praises Elaine Sciolino, who is leaving Paris after five years as the New York Times’ correspondent, as a “fine reporter/observer”. Not so fast, cautions Arthur Goldhammer: Her swan song reminds us why she will not be missed. For our national newspaper’s chief correspondent, France means above all sexy underwear, friendly butchers, nasty haberdashers, handkissing, and other quaintnesses. La grande Nation is a dotty old aunt best captured in droll anecdotes. Now, to be sure, Madame Sciolino’s farewell despatch is meant to be whimsical, even jolly. Alas, it’s simply cliched, banal and, appallingly, stuffed with name-dropping. More to the point, it’s also supposed to demonstrate how peculiarly funny and

Since the British press have been having all sorts of fun over the “snub”*  Gordon Brown thanks to a canceled meeting with John McCain it’s worth noting that press sillyness is not confined to the anglosphere by any means. Art Goldhammer has the details: Le Figaro has a perfidious piece on Ségolène Royal’s visit to the US. It leads with the insinuation that she was somehow snubbed by Barack Obama because she attended his rally without obtaining a picture of herself with the candidate. I said yesterday that I would not share my private impressions of Mme Royal, but in this case I will make an exception, because I had

An entry for Pseud’s Corner. Adam Gopnik on Sarko’s romance with Carla Bruni: It is possible to imagine that Sarkozy is not simply a man governed by his impulses and appetites but one trying to use a situation to make a strategic point. In the past, all French politicians were involved in an organized hypocrisy, where mistresses were known, and hidden with a wink. Just as Tony Blair used the cold body of Princess Diana to underline the need for a departure from the national habit of perpetual emotional postponement, Sarko conceivably is using the very warm body of Bruni to make the point that the French need to escape

So, unsurprisingly, Time Magazine’s cover story (international edition) on The Death of French Culture is making waves on the eastern side of the Atlantic (once upon a time, Time might have devoted space to French culture in its US edition: that it wouldn’t dream of doing so now tells us as much about the United States as it does about France). Given that all countries enjoy introspection – what’s the subject of any attempt at writing the fabled Great American Novel, if not America herself? – it’s not shocking that Le Figaro should devote three pages to responding to Don Morrison’s silly, exaggerated article. Silly and exaggerrated and irritating, I

The always-excellent Arthur Goldhammer on Nicolas Sarkozy’s latest appearance: Sarkozy had another one of his marathon chats with les tribunes du peuple, or what passes for such in the media age: telejournalists. It was an odd performance. The Élysée doesn’t really suit its current incumbent. Its rococo excess makes a strange contrast with his blunt language. He cannot bring himself to sit up straight, despite chairs that would seem to require it. He slouches and squirms, and one keeps expecting to hear the voice of an admonishing parent: “Sit up straight, Nicolas!” His tie was not knotted comme il faut, leaving him looking slightly bedraggled, despite the dazzling white shirt

I’m rather looking forward to reading Yasmina Reza’s account of her year on the campaign trail with Nicolas Sarkozy, Dawn, Evening or Night. It looks as though it could be the political book of the year. If Elaine Sciolino’s article is at all accurate, Sarko comes across as a man who, above all, is alive (a welcome change after the stagnant corruption of the Chirac years. There’s wit too: Even before his victory, Sarkozy is drunk with bravado. Emerging from lunch in London with then-Prime Minister Tony Blair of Britain, Sarkozy announces to his aides: “Tony and I have just made a decision. We’re going to conquer Europe.” In a