.A Village Wedding

 

The house where we are staying in rural France is opposite the village church, a not very imposing edifice dating from the late seventeenth century. Many of the other churches in the region are from the twelfth, thirteenth and even ninth centuries and seem to have stood the test of time quite well, though much of the original artwork has been eroded by time or removed by ungodly hands.

We had been informed in advance that a wedding was to be celebrated there one afternoon, and were asked to park our car elsewhere on that day, with which request we duly complied.

A wedding in an almost deserted French village is a rare event, to say the least. Most of the inhabitants of rural France are old-timers whose livelihoods were not dependent on the contemporary labour market. They live reasonably well on their pensions, but it is funerals that are a more common occurrence than weddings in this part of the world. This is partly due to the scarcity of employment for young people in the region, and also to the wholesale slaughter of many young men in the First World War. There isn’t a village in the area that doesn’t have a WW1 memorial at the centre with a long list of names of the fallen. Many houses are boarded up and deserted, falling into disrepair for lack of anyone to see to their upkeep,

So a wedding is an event to be savoured. The guests for this one started arriving in good time, and the usually deserted church square witnessed more activity than it had for many a day. The inhabitants of this part of the world are not what one might call smart dressers, so it was a pleasant surprise to see well-turned out ladies and gents, who had obviously made an effort to look their best (or come from elsewhere). At the appointed hour the church bells began to peal, and the bride and her entourage emerged from her home, at the other end of a small lane, known as ‘Lovers’ Lane,’ which leads straight to the church.

The weather was perfect, the sun was shining but not too hot, and everything seemed to be falling into place for the occasion. The bride looked very young and pretty as she approached, but had a worried look on her face, which made me wonder if her shoes weren’t hurting her or whether she wasn’t contemplating making a bolt for it. But there was no chance of that as she was surrounded by her large and evidently loving family.

As she approached the church the throng outside stood aside and the priest, who was also wearing a long white but less frilly gown, stood at the entrance to welcome her. After an hour or so while everyone was inside the church the bells began to peal again, the people gathered outside to await the emergence of the now-married young people. If anything, the bridegroom looked even younger than the bride, and my guess is that they were both teenagers or thereabouts.

But then came the surprise that pretty much knocked my socks off. An ensemble of eight musicians, all playing what looked like a highly-polished and antique version of the bugle (I would have expected a French horn), stood in formation in the church vestibule, four on each side, and played one fanfare after another, very harmoniously, as the bride and groom came out. They continued playing as the young couple embarked on the customary round of kissing and congratulations once the official ceremony was over and before everyone (presumably) trooped off for the festive meal.

The ensemble continued to play for about half an hour, though whether those were traditional French songs or special wedding fanfares they were playing I couldn’t say. All I can say is that both visually and audially it was an impressive performance. Even more impressive was the fact that two of the players were women (you need a lot of puff to play a valveless brass instrument). The bugles seemed to have larger horns than anything I’ve managed to find on the internet, and I noted with amusement that the players had to stand with their backs to the audience to enable the sound to reach them. Then they all raised their instruments up high above their heads to form an honour guard, as it were, or perhaps to show the objects on which they had displayed their proficiency.

Understandably enough, the bride seemed happier and more relaxed after the ceremony, and as she turned among the guests I was able to examine her dress more closely. She wore the traditional meringue-style puffy white dress, but the magenta trimming and draped segment that covered her posterior were not to my taste. But then, what do I know of what’s ‘in’ in French village weddings these days? The main thing is that they should only be happy and healthy and have lots of lovely little French babies.

(photos by Yigal Shefer)

 

 

 

 

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C’est la Vie

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brocantes, rural France

Taking a few weeks off from our usual routine, ‘retiring from retirement,’ and our home in Israel means changing the pace at which we live, shifting to a different location and moving to an area where tranquillity prevails.

It has by now become our custom to spend the summer months in rural France, away from all the familiar sights and sounds of our usual routine. But lo and behold, it is hotter this year in France than it is in Israel, so that benefit is lost from the outset. Second of all, there are all kinds of attractions and activities that tempt us to venture out of our quiet village haven, so that we find we are recreating a semblance of our hectic lives in Israel.

The main charm of rural France is the natural beauty of the countryside and the relaxed tempo of life. Someone has said that it’s like going back in time to what England was like fifty years ago, and there is certainly something in that. At weekends, though, in addition to the charms of the countryside, there are brocantes, or flea-markets in villages, the equivalent of what is now known as a car-boot sale. These consist of stalls rented by individuals for a nominal sum and on which they display anything and everything that comes to hand and they want to get rid of. The brocantes are pre-arranged so that it is possible to buy a booklet containing the dates and locations of all the brocantes in the region throughout the summer months, making it possible to determine one’s weekend activities well in advance.

In many cases the objects on display are the residue of the lives of the exhibitors’ parents and grandparents. You can find elegant dinner services, crystal glassware and assorted pots, pans, soup tureens and cutlery, in short, anything that once served a household but is now superfluous, out of date and out of fashion.

Some stalls offer record collections, whole libraries of detective novels, assorted old clothes, children’s toys, lace doylies, linen tablecloths, handyman’s tools, and even items of furniture. It’s an education in the history and culture of the region to go around and see what’s on offer, and to mingle with the locals who are out doing the same thing, in an event that is a mixture of social event and general ‘happening.’

In addition to such harmless pursuits as inspecting the wares on display, together with all the other folk who have turned out for the same purpose, there are circuses and funfairs which do the rounds of the villages, set up their tent, and give a performance for one or two days, after which they move on elsewhere.

For people in search of more serious entertainment there are veritable concert series in and around the region, many of them performed in one or another of the local churches, most of which date from the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries and have excellent acoustics. Those that we have attended, given by vocal and instrumental groups from France and elsewhere, were well-attended, though we have learned from experience that it’s advisable to bring a cushion along as the hard wooden seats do not add to our enjoyment of the music.

But most of all it’s the relaxed attitude of the population that’s the main attraction in this part of the world. No one ever seems to be in a hurry – and this is most evident in the courteous and considerate driving. You have no choice but to be patient when a tractor is trundling along the road ahead of you or a huge truck transporting bales of hay swings out from a field at the side of the road. The pace of life is slower, the issues that are prominent in the news seem to be far away and the media don’t assume the same importance here as they do in Israel. Perhaps this temporary break from being incessantly bombarded by news, existentialist issues and the haranguing of politicians is the main attraction after all.

Levi Koenig, A Contemporary King Lear

 

This is my third novel in as many years, and portrays a modern-day equivalent of Shakespeare’s protagonist. Mr. Koenig has his good and bad points, as do his three daughters, Gloria, Renata and Corinna (yes, the parallels with Goneril, Regan and Cordelia are intended). The three sisters, all mature, fairly reasonable women, are doing their best to cope with the pressures of modern life. Each one attempts in her own way to balance the multiple roles of wife, mother, daughter, sister, and employee. Although the relations between the three are not without their problems, each one does what she can to help taking care of their father in his old age.

My book aims to show the sisters in a more realistic light than Shakespeare has done in his play. His portrayal of Lear’s two older daughters as malevolent harpies and the youngest as a misunderstood angel goes against the feminist grain. While not everything in Shakespeare’s play has a parallel in the book, Mr. Koenig’s Filipina carer, Flora, could well be reminiscent of Lear’s Fool. Gloria, the eldest daughter, is divorced but thinks she has found love at last. Renata, burdened with an uncooperative husband, is drowning in household chores and turns to drink for consolation. And Corinna, the youngest, who feels that her life is a failure, is struggling to retain her equilibrium.

Mr. Koenig’s secret, which comes out in the course of the book and colors the relations within the family, casts a shadow over his departure from this world. Evidence emerges of financial aid that he has been giving to a woman who may have once been his mistress, causing tension within the family and calling into question what the sisters had presumed to be their idyllic family life. The book traces the course of Mr. Koenig’s decline and eventual death, the efforts his daughters make on his behalf, and the toll this takes on each one of them.

The dilemma confronting Levi Koenig’s daughters is not an unusual one. Should their father be placed in sheltered accommodation, encouraged to live with one or another of his ‘girls,’ or enabled to stay in his own home with a live-in carer? Their compromise solution demands considerable cooperation between the three, and this sometimes involves more than they bargained for.

Levi Koenig’s daughters are neither harpies nor angels, but human beings, with human quirks and foibles. With the best of intentions, they set out to find a solution to the problem of their elderly father’s increasing frailty. But as everyone knows, the road to hell is paved with…good intentions.

In addition, each sister has her own issues to contend with, whether it’s an inadequate husband, a drinking problem, demanding children, money troubles, an unfulfilling job, or a failed love affair. Each sister is an individual in her own right, with wishes, motives and plans of her own. And each one makes her own contribution to the unfolding drama. Past antagonisms and childhood jealousies also come back to haunt the three women, further complicating the interaction between them.

As the story unfolds we get to know each of them more intimately, the daily minutiae of their lives, their thoughts and feelings, and the attitude of each one to herself, her nuclear family, her father, and her sisters. Each one of them is a person with a defined character and her own individual approach to the difficulties that beset her personal life and the extended family unit. Inevitably, their father makes his own inimical contribution to the course of events. Like the tentacles of an octopus, the ties that bind the family together also restrict their actions and determine the eventual consequences.

Levi Koenig, A Contemporary King Lear, joins my two other novels, The Balancing Game; A Child Between Two Worlds, A Society Approaching War, which was published in 2013, and Time Out of Joint; The Fate of a Family, which was published in 2014. All three are available as ebooks and paperbacks from Amazon.com