I was listening to Edith Piaf today in the car as my son, dog, and I were driving around and running errands. Many years ago Thomenon gave me CD of Piaf's greatest hits; he is a big fan of French music from the 30's and 40's, probably because his own parents loved it and listened to it during his childhood.
I have always felt drawn to Piaf, although my own parents didn't listen to her. When I would catch snatches of her voice on the radio, on television, or in French classes, she sounded both familiar and comfortable.
Today it hit me that the Little Sparrow is like a body memory within me. She is woven into my cells. I feel quite certain that C listened to Piaf while pregnant with me, and probably still does. I think C cried while listening to "La vie en rose." I think my East Coast educated father seduced her in French and hung her out to dry. I will add that to my list of questions to ask C, if and when I ever speak with her again.
Until then I remain une ombre de la rue.
5 comments:
Not to mention C smoke and drank like Piaf, as well, and was a gamine herself.
Ah yes, the angst hits us every time hey?
Just found your blog and I am glad I did.
One of the first things I told my son was that I listened to Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band incessantly when I was pregnant with him. He is a Pink Floyd fan. Oh well.
Angelle, thanks for finding your way here. I am guessing about the Piaf, but my nmom was finishing up her Bachelor's degree in French while pregnant with me. I went to French and Spanish literature seminars galore while in utero.
Von, absolutely! The plaintiveness of Piaf's voice is heartbreaking. She seems to be crying to be heard, like we do.
My nmom is a huge Piaf fan too. I never thought until I read this how much she mirrors her.
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