Johnny Yuma
03-16-2003, 09:44 AM
Roosters Rule! Cocorico!
Why is the rooster – that vain, strutting, loudmouthed creature- the national symbol of France? The latin word gallus provides the symbol; “gallus” means both “the Gaul” and “the rooster”.
The Romans commented on the Gauls’ talkativeness, as well as their complaining, aggressive nature. Tacitus concluded that if the Gauls had stopped quarreling among themselves they would have been nearly invincible.
So what defines the “cocorico syndrome"?
Every year in France, books are published analyzing and usually criticizing the French character and how it affects the individual’s and the country’s life; the French, given to self-analysis (“le nombrilisme” = navel contemplation), are quite aware of their defects and are sometimes even proud of them.
AD 52 Alesia Vercingetorix, valiant leader of the Gauls, is beaten by the “sales’ (i.e., rotten) Romans, who drag him back to Rome and execute him.
732 (Cocorico!) Charles Martel kicks out the “sales” Saracens at Poitiers.
1214 (Cocorico!) Philippe Auguste socks it to the “sales” league of English, Flemish and Germans at Bouvines.
1431 The “sales” English burn our girl, Jeanne d’ Arc.
1515 (Cocorico!) Francois Ier socks it to the Swiss at Marignano.
1789 (Cocorico!) The French infuse the world with the spirit of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
1792 (Cocorico!) The people’s army routs the foreign enemy at Valmy.
1870 Defeat at Sedan at the hands of the “sales Boches.”
1898 The “sales” English humiliate us at Fashoda (Sudan).
1940 The “sales” Brits treacherously sink our fleet at Mers-el-Kebir.
At the individual level, we get “le Francais frondeur” (anti-authority, ever critical), the opinionated, querulous, restless, contradictory undisciplined worshiper of speech who easily substitutes words for action.)
“Le Francais… c’est la langue meme de dieux, la seule dans laquelle un homme puisse laisser entendre a une femme qu’il l’aime.” (French… is the very language of the gods, the only one in which a man can make a woman understand that he loves her.)
Maurice Bedel
(writer 1884-1954)
The “cocorico syndrome” in its egocentric aspect produces the legendary rudeness and the notorious shoving ahead of one’s place in line . The expression “c’est tout un sport” has nothing to do with athletic pursuits; it refers to the great effort necessary to accomplish something, particularly in their national sports.
Recognized national sports are “la resqille” (getting something to which one has no right, getting away without paying for something; for example, fare evasion), “la combine” (scheming, beating the system, working around regulations for one’s own benefit), and “rouler le fisc” (cheating on one’s taxes).
It follows from acceptance of these activities that the French are ever “méfiants" (distrustful, suspicous) and that one of their reflexes is to search for what might be concealed underneath an action or a proposal. Not surprisingly, 71 percent of the French believe that people cannot be trusted.
The rules for the aforementioned “sports” allow for “la dénonciation” (denunciation), a favorite French activity, along with its offshoot, calumny (i.e., slander). Both make much use of the anonymous letter and reached their heyday under the German occupation in World War II.
The main weapon of “cocorico” is the manipulation of the spoken word; the more abstruse, pretentious, incomprehensible, and recondite, the better.
The “snowing” of others to prove one’s own intellectual superiority means being able to talk about everything with great assurance and to drown one’s opponent in quotations, facts, and namedropping. Intellectual exclusivism is reinforced by the existence of “les grandes écoles”, emergence from whose hallowed halls guarantees great prestige and often a viselike hold on the best jobs. Entrance by stiff competition only, please. The crème de la crème are the graduates of Normale Sup, l’ÉNA and l’X.
The ultimate intellectual hothouse is l’École Normale Superierure where the likes of Sartre, Malraux, and de Beavoir, “ont usé leurs fonds de culottes” (wore out the seats of their trousers; that is, went to school). The end product is a “normalien”, although there’s nothing normal about those characters…
Know an “ énarque”? He/she is a product of the highly competitive, postgraduate École Nationale d’Administration (l’ENA), a supertechnocrat with highly developed skills in the art of analyzing and dissecting (and not necessarily constructing) with tremendous command of language; the French language, of course. He/she is destined for the high ranks of government service and is a readily identifiable, self-confident character.
What’s the X in l’X ? It’s not an unknown quantity but the very selective (intellectually speaking) École Polytechnique for engineering. Don’t be fooled by the polytechnic moniker; this is no second-class institution. One emerges with a passport to the upper reaches of the business world, full of theory and perhaps less so of practical knowledge, but that precious piece of paper precludes the asking of one’s abilities. A “polytechnicien” makes a good marriage catch, as his earning power is pretty well guaranteed, unlike the aforementioned, whose involvement with the meaning of life, art and literature, or governmental service may not necessarily be rewarded in financial terms.
Mr. Supercocorico himself, General de Gaulle, was forever proclaiming France synonymous with grandeur and reckoned she existed to “illuminate” the universe. The press still talks of “l’honneur de la France” and sees failures or setbacks as humiliations.
At the national level, the cocorico syndrome is revealed in the need to win acclaim at any price, and to say or do anything to have France’s “destiny” and importance to the world recognized. It has made some Frenchmen say the most extraordinary things across the ages, such as:
“La gloire de la France est un des plus nobles omements du monde.” (France’s glory is one of the world’s most noble adornments.)
Montaigne
“Qu’est-ce la France, je vous le demande? Un coq sur un fumier. Otez le fumier, lecoq meurt.” (What is France, I ask you? A rooster on a dung heap. Take away the dung, and the rooster dies.)
Jean Cocteau
La Difficulté d’être
Editions du Rocher
Why is the rooster – that vain, strutting, loudmouthed creature- the national symbol of France? The latin word gallus provides the symbol; “gallus” means both “the Gaul” and “the rooster”.
The Romans commented on the Gauls’ talkativeness, as well as their complaining, aggressive nature. Tacitus concluded that if the Gauls had stopped quarreling among themselves they would have been nearly invincible.
So what defines the “cocorico syndrome"?
Every year in France, books are published analyzing and usually criticizing the French character and how it affects the individual’s and the country’s life; the French, given to self-analysis (“le nombrilisme” = navel contemplation), are quite aware of their defects and are sometimes even proud of them.
AD 52 Alesia Vercingetorix, valiant leader of the Gauls, is beaten by the “sales’ (i.e., rotten) Romans, who drag him back to Rome and execute him.
732 (Cocorico!) Charles Martel kicks out the “sales” Saracens at Poitiers.
1214 (Cocorico!) Philippe Auguste socks it to the “sales” league of English, Flemish and Germans at Bouvines.
1431 The “sales” English burn our girl, Jeanne d’ Arc.
1515 (Cocorico!) Francois Ier socks it to the Swiss at Marignano.
1789 (Cocorico!) The French infuse the world with the spirit of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
1792 (Cocorico!) The people’s army routs the foreign enemy at Valmy.
1870 Defeat at Sedan at the hands of the “sales Boches.”
1898 The “sales” English humiliate us at Fashoda (Sudan).
1940 The “sales” Brits treacherously sink our fleet at Mers-el-Kebir.
At the individual level, we get “le Francais frondeur” (anti-authority, ever critical), the opinionated, querulous, restless, contradictory undisciplined worshiper of speech who easily substitutes words for action.)
“Le Francais… c’est la langue meme de dieux, la seule dans laquelle un homme puisse laisser entendre a une femme qu’il l’aime.” (French… is the very language of the gods, the only one in which a man can make a woman understand that he loves her.)
Maurice Bedel
(writer 1884-1954)
The “cocorico syndrome” in its egocentric aspect produces the legendary rudeness and the notorious shoving ahead of one’s place in line . The expression “c’est tout un sport” has nothing to do with athletic pursuits; it refers to the great effort necessary to accomplish something, particularly in their national sports.
Recognized national sports are “la resqille” (getting something to which one has no right, getting away without paying for something; for example, fare evasion), “la combine” (scheming, beating the system, working around regulations for one’s own benefit), and “rouler le fisc” (cheating on one’s taxes).
It follows from acceptance of these activities that the French are ever “méfiants" (distrustful, suspicous) and that one of their reflexes is to search for what might be concealed underneath an action or a proposal. Not surprisingly, 71 percent of the French believe that people cannot be trusted.
The rules for the aforementioned “sports” allow for “la dénonciation” (denunciation), a favorite French activity, along with its offshoot, calumny (i.e., slander). Both make much use of the anonymous letter and reached their heyday under the German occupation in World War II.
The main weapon of “cocorico” is the manipulation of the spoken word; the more abstruse, pretentious, incomprehensible, and recondite, the better.
The “snowing” of others to prove one’s own intellectual superiority means being able to talk about everything with great assurance and to drown one’s opponent in quotations, facts, and namedropping. Intellectual exclusivism is reinforced by the existence of “les grandes écoles”, emergence from whose hallowed halls guarantees great prestige and often a viselike hold on the best jobs. Entrance by stiff competition only, please. The crème de la crème are the graduates of Normale Sup, l’ÉNA and l’X.
The ultimate intellectual hothouse is l’École Normale Superierure where the likes of Sartre, Malraux, and de Beavoir, “ont usé leurs fonds de culottes” (wore out the seats of their trousers; that is, went to school). The end product is a “normalien”, although there’s nothing normal about those characters…
Know an “ énarque”? He/she is a product of the highly competitive, postgraduate École Nationale d’Administration (l’ENA), a supertechnocrat with highly developed skills in the art of analyzing and dissecting (and not necessarily constructing) with tremendous command of language; the French language, of course. He/she is destined for the high ranks of government service and is a readily identifiable, self-confident character.
What’s the X in l’X ? It’s not an unknown quantity but the very selective (intellectually speaking) École Polytechnique for engineering. Don’t be fooled by the polytechnic moniker; this is no second-class institution. One emerges with a passport to the upper reaches of the business world, full of theory and perhaps less so of practical knowledge, but that precious piece of paper precludes the asking of one’s abilities. A “polytechnicien” makes a good marriage catch, as his earning power is pretty well guaranteed, unlike the aforementioned, whose involvement with the meaning of life, art and literature, or governmental service may not necessarily be rewarded in financial terms.
Mr. Supercocorico himself, General de Gaulle, was forever proclaiming France synonymous with grandeur and reckoned she existed to “illuminate” the universe. The press still talks of “l’honneur de la France” and sees failures or setbacks as humiliations.
At the national level, the cocorico syndrome is revealed in the need to win acclaim at any price, and to say or do anything to have France’s “destiny” and importance to the world recognized. It has made some Frenchmen say the most extraordinary things across the ages, such as:
“La gloire de la France est un des plus nobles omements du monde.” (France’s glory is one of the world’s most noble adornments.)
Montaigne
“Qu’est-ce la France, je vous le demande? Un coq sur un fumier. Otez le fumier, lecoq meurt.” (What is France, I ask you? A rooster on a dung heap. Take away the dung, and the rooster dies.)
Jean Cocteau
La Difficulté d’être
Editions du Rocher