The delightful aroma of chocolate….

Just as it should be in a Paris apartment.

“Salut!” Serge exclaimed opening the door for me with a theatrical gesture. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to treat you in the French style! It’ll take me a few more minutes in the kitchen. Here’s the company for you.”

He hit a button on the console and disappeared behind the door.

A voice, so familiar, from the past, spoke of something simple, but very precious.

Right! It’s Joe Dassin!

“The chocolate croissant.”

Tous les matins il achetait

Son p’tit pain au chocolat.
La boulangère lui souriait,
Il ne la regardait pas …

 

Every morning,

He used to buy his chocolate croissant.

The saleslady at the bakery smiled at him.

But he didn’t look at her….

 

The tempo of the melody was growing faster as if penetrating into me.

Plain and heartfelt words. About love. That is literally ‘under our very nose.’

About the time when life was easier. Problems also seemed… well, a trifle.

I looked out the window. Still the same amazing view of the Arc de Triomphe at the Charles de Gaulle Square.

But Paris was different outside the window.

Nostalgia gripped my heart.

The world has changed. We have changed.

Migrant problems, the virus, frequent strikes, gloomy faces….

Humming the music, Serge made a spectacular appearance in the room. He held the tray with a coffee pot, buns, and cheese.

“Voilà!” he glanced at me. Made a steep turn and disappeared again. A minute later, he reappeared with a bottle of wine….

To the accompaniment of the most touching song about a beautiful feeling able to reveal the secret of life:

Et si tu n’existais pas,

J’essaierais d’inventer l’amour …

 

And if you didn’t exist

I would try to invent love….

 

We went silent.

I wanted to feel this moment for as long as possible.

Paris, good and open.

A cordial friendship between us.

Reflection on what Joe was singing about.

“How do you like Dassin?” Serge looked at me. “A Jew,” he raised his index finger with meaning.

I have always been thrilled with Serge telling me ‘Jewish stories.’  About his childhood or traditions.
I felt how I missed all that baby talk, mommydaddygranny… Eating. Studying. Caring. Family.

My friend began to trill away like a nightingale.

About Dassin’s family moving to the States. About Joe leaving for Europe. How he was trying to find himself, gain life experience….

I listened and thought: “How difficult everything is!”

“You see, all the time ‘but needs must.’ Against his will! Which means he didn’t want to marry, didn’t want to sing, didn’t want to be on stage. Not a public figure at all.”

Serge tried very hard to convey how Dassin felt.

“This is,” he was searching for the proper word, “doom. No, not doom, but an undertaking… A mission!” he exclaimed, glad to find the right word. “Listen to this — he expresses it here very clearly.”

Serge put on Dassin’s song “Albatross.”

Moi, de temps en temps je me sens pareil

A cet éternel exile …

Lui, qui ne sait pas replier ses ailes

Moi, qui ne sais pas m’arrêter …

Moi, de temps en temps je me sens pareil

A ce voyageur fatigué …

 

I sometimes feel I’m similar

To this eternal exile…

He’s unable to fold his wings,

I’m unable to stop myself…

I sometimes feel I’m similar

To this tired traveler…

 

“He didn’t want all this?” I asked.

“Exactly! Always forced himself!”

“But why was it so difficult?”

“You know… in a Jew…,” Serge paused; he was thinking of suitable words, “there’s disquiet. It’s like you’re urged to do something all the time. Kind of thirst. A search….”

We kept silent for a while. Savored. The famous “Indian Summer” (L’été indien).

A touching recitative was telling a love story unfolding against the background of fall colors of an American Indian summer.

On ira où tu voudras,
Quand tu voudras

Et on s’aimera encore,
Lorsque l’amour sera mort.

 

We’ll go where you want to,

When you want to,

And our love will last

Until the end of times.

 

“Joe’s voice is love itself. It’s like taking a piece of his heart and putting it in yours. From the outside, it seems simple. But every time, he did give a part of himself away.”

We listened to the music.

And thought: “Why actually should we tear our hearts to pieces in a misunderstanding?”

Distancing and alienation between us will ever lead to no good.

They only cause pain and disappointment. They take us away bit by bit.

We’re completely shut down towards each other.

There’s only one way out.

Right now! Open your hearts.

On the screen, Joe, young and smiling, was saying: “I write songs to help people live.”

He accomplished his mission. He gave his all. To instill strength in us.

Before it’s too late, we must use this universal remedy.

The love between us.

That is ‘under our very nose.’

The “Luxembourg Garden” song resonated with our thoughts….

Je voulais réussir dans ma vie

Et j’ai tout réussi, sauf ma vie.

J’avais en moi un grain de folie

Qui n’a pas poussé, qui n’a pas pris.

Dis-moi, c’que j’ai fait de ma vie,

Dis-moi, c’que j’ai fait de ta vie …

 

I wanted to succeed in my life,

And I’ve succeeded in everything but my life.

I had a grain of folly in me,

Which hasn’t sprouted, hasn’t taken root.

Tell me, what have I made of my life?

Tell me, what have I made of yours?

 

Yes, indeed, that’s how it is. We exchanged glances.

There’s no your, my, or someone else’s life.

There’s one life for all.

And if so….

You won’t have to die at 40.

Like Joe Dassin.

And tear your heart to pieces in making people open up for love.

© Copyright English translation Evgenia Kononova 2020