85743936

eye – Au vieux cruller – 12.05.02

An entry in The New Oxford Companion to Literature in French explains how the now-
legendary and sometimes theme-parked caf�s of Paris were, during the Enlightenment, “places where new or subversive ideas could be fairly openly discussed (though police spies haunted them).” Later, they became home to the bohemians, some of whom called themselves “the water drinkers” because that was all they could afford. Later still, the Caf� de Flore in St.-Germain-des-Pr�s became the hangout for Sartre and Beauvoir and the world headquarters for existentialist thought chiefly because, according to a history of caf� life in the November, 2002 issue of the English-language online magazine ParisTempo.com, “The owner was kind to his ‘clients’ though they often bought only one small caf� each day.” The magazine piece sums it up: “[caf�s] are the soul of Paris, reflecting the vagaries of neighborhood life in all its sordid splendor … they have always been a place to read, to write, to plot, to dream, even to fall in love.”

Subversive, cheap, unhurried, varied and haunted by police: sounds a bit like Coffee Time, doesn’t it? Canada, an evolving culture, has never been as precious as France. They have a beret stylishly cocked atop their head, we have a toque pulled down over our eyes, they have red wine and unpasteurized cheese, we have Molson Canadian and Kraft Dinner. They have caf�s, we have donut shops.

With thanks to wood s lot