Love in the North

As a follow up to Raymond Peynet's ethereal vision of love, and not to forget the wind of love that blows over the world for a couple days.... I felt it was only fair to also pay tribute to another famous French illustrator, Francisque Poulbot, and his eponymous creations. A "Poulbot" is a picture of a typical "titi parisien", in other words a street kid from Paris, and since the Loire pretty much divides France between North and South, Paris, for all intents and purposes, is considered to be in the northern part of France. ( I am soo tempted to say "le NOOOORRRR" like Michel Galabru says in Bienvenue Chez les Ch'tis, but that would be a diversion from the topic at hand.)

In his paintings, his "titis" are always centre stage, but Paris is also strongly present. You often see reminders of the setting, the Eiffel Tower (above) ...

Notre-Dame...

The Arc de Triomphe.

The Pont Neuf

Interesting how bridges and benches seem to be part of lovers-lore. Why is this? Is it their hormonal "in-love"state of mind which allows them to be the only people on Earth who have time to sit down, and watch the world go by?

Interesting also how these kids, with distinctively young faces - these are not adolescents - seem to be involved with one another, in a very tender relationship. Where Peynet's pen is light and elegant, Poulbot's brush is loud and somewhat garish. Poulbots are not considered high art in France. There is something very kitch, and bad taste in a way, but also very tramp-like, Chaplin-esque about these,. This might explain why I am so fond of them.

Real life Poulbots? Hell yes, larger than life even!... Edith Piaf, a kid from the street, singing a very sad love song in English here...

And Renaud, who single-handedly put Parisian slang back on the cultural map, merci Renaud.

Spécial Paulinette :-), my favourite blog-writer, in the whole world.

Yours truly

Love in the South

February is the month of love, right? What with Valentine's Day and all that, and I have to thank Pam (your embroidery patterns are just darn cute) for reminding me of this otherwise honestly, it would have slipped my mind that this fatal date was soon approaching. 

A day, which before the martyrdom of no less than 3 Valentines, goes seemingly back to Ancient Rome lupercalia (like we care.... but this way we'll look as if we know something, thank you Messieurs Wales and Sanger).

In France, there are few artists who are as closely linked to St Valentine's Day, love, and Cupid as Raymond Peynet.

The girl and boy in his paintings are a representation of him the poet (which you may recognize because he wear an artist's hat), and her, his muse/sweetheart.

In the picture two down you see a representation of a kiosk, which is where is is meant to have met his wife, in Valence, in the South of France. It now is called "Le kiosque Peynet".

Here it is again in the background!

And look how sheltered and happy these 2 are.

Birds are the messengers of love, right? I wonder what they are doing in her petticoat here??? Oh Monsieur Peynet, you are a little too suggestive here, for someone as romantic as you!

Holey Molley or rather Lovey... dovey!!!

The "Peynet lovers" became so popular in France in the 1950's and 60's that the big wheels of commerce had to have a bite of the lion's share. Yes they made them into dolls, which I am quite certain you can now purchase for a few hundred euros each on ebay.

In 1985, the French government thought it would be a good idea to pay tribute to Peynet with this special edition stamp for Valentines Days.

Finally, look how blissfully happy they are... in a world of their own, at one with nature. Rather ethereal, but also sitting on a bench, because people who are in love, have time to sit on benches, it is a well know fact.

So much so, that George Brassens decided to tell the story of these lovers sitting on public park benches throughout the whole world.
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Love in the North coming soon. ... Meanwhile be wise, don't forget that love is in the heart and not in purses or wallets.

Yours truly.

What could I tell you?

I could tell you about the great perversity of movies such as Bluebeard's Eight Wife (1938) 

or Myra Beckinridge (1970)....

I could tell you about series 4 of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, or season 2 of I Love Lucy

I could tell you about the new Mary Poppins scarf I just knitted

I could tell you about my great Tango/Rumba teacher Carolina Santana

I could tell you about how the individual is being swallowed by the man...yeah, mon! But good ol' Pete says it better than me (that's for you Paulinette :-).

But why bother about this when I could tell you of the wonders of my job (innocently batting eyelids to my invisible readers) and working for the global dollar and how I just love being watched over by Big Brother for every single minute of my working life for just above minimum wage. But hey, happy happy happy it's a job! Rare thing these days.

So ... 

Yours truly...