Went to see Something in the Air (Apres Mai) Saturday night, which is about a French high school student in the early 70s. It took me back to my year in Aix-en-Provence, an account of which, I've always said, would never be a bestseller because few Americans would be charmed by a story of irregular verbs, cafeteria lentils and anti-Americanism.
The film seemed very faithful to the period with one exception: all the music was in English. Other than my neighbor in the dorm, who played The Who nonstop, everyone else that year seemed to be listening to homegrown artists: Leo Ferre, Jean Ferrat, Georges Brassans and of course Georges Moustaki. They helped make me feel ever farther from home and gave me a love of the French chanson, which led eventually to my fascination with The Great American Songbook.
