I used to start my day with a few hours of translating, but my clients have all temporarily stopped their activity, so I found a new project in order to keep my ritual going (the hardest thing about rituals is starting themā¦) My grandparents both wrote journals of their experience in WWII, and I started translating them for my English cousins who are interested in reading them.Ā I have to say, I rolled my eyes at my presidentāsĀ āWe are at warā speech, yet I am struck by the many similarities I am finding with the current situation:
theĀ āeeriness of empty city streetsā, the curfews, the panic buying, the movie theatres closing, the inability to travel to be with family, or even to walk in the street without a written attestation (Ausweis)
French people from the cities being asked by the government to go help farmers with harvest due to a shortage of seasonal labour, just like we are seeing now
(Of course the situation was incomparably worseāIām not equating the two, I just didnāt expect to find all these parallels)
The most striking similarity is in the way they feel about the events: they both write about how the uncertainty of these times produces a strange mixture of stress and morbid fascination. My grandmother describes the first time she saw the Nazi flag flying above the City Hall, saying she felt ādistress, and an incongruous curiosityāhow will all of this end?ā My grandfather, writing about the dangerous process of changing his identity and obtaining fake documentation to avoid being deported to Germany, says āTout cela est trĆØs Ć©prouvant pour les nerfs. MalgrĆ© tout⦠quelle annĆ©e intĆ©ressante nous traversons.ā (āThis is all very nerve-wracking. Nevertheless, what an interesting year we are living through.ā)
My grandmother writes about how stunned she would feel if āmyself from not so very long agoā could get a glimpse of her current life: all of her projects frozen in time, her studies interrupted (āI wish I had been able to finish the yearātheyāve had such trouble organising the classes and exams, they gave the BaccalaurĆ©at almost to everybody!ā), her wedding cancelled,Ā āI am now hiding people in my basementā, and her fiancĆ©, āformerly fond of insect collectingā, nowĀ ākeeps himself busy planting bombs on railway tracksā to stop freight trains going to Germany.
(She uses a lot of breezy euphemisms; at one point she briefly mentions being interrogated by Nazis re: her fiancĆ© travelling to the āforbidden zoneā then starts the next paragraph with āDespite this contretempsāā and moves on to how she still had time to fill her purse with dead leaves on the Champs ElysĆ©es so she could light the stove.)Ā
She writes about the difficulty of getting accurate information amidst all the contradictory news sources (Resistance radio broadcasts, rumours around her, German propaganda, lies from her own government), and about how unsettling it feels āquand la vie ne va plus de soiā (āwhen life no longer goes without sayingā)
I saw French people on twitter joking about howĀ āafter coronavirus, we wonāt bring back cheek-kissing, okay?ā and was amused to find an entry in my grandmotherās journal saying in the middle of all this turmoil, she & her fiancĆ© have started using the informalĀ āyouā with each other, and she hopes that when the war is over, French society wonāt go back to expecting people to useĀ āvousā until marriage.Ā
The very beginning of the war, around her 19th birthday, also presents interesting parallels: she is frustrated with her mother who is planning a holiday trip and acting like nothing serious is going on, and is simultaneously still confused aboutĀ āthe eventsā and wondering if she is misjudging their severity
In April 1944, as she finally hopes to see āthis nightmare end soonā, she speculates on what aspect the future post-crisis society will take, when will normal life resume and what will ānormalā be? Then she says making conjectures is futile for the time being because āwe cannot measure the depth of a derangement that is still under way.ā
One last arresting part, in 1942: āCe que jāignorais quant aux calamitĆ©s et bouleversements est que, lorsquāon les vit soi-mĆŖme, le temps passe trĆØs lentement.ā (āWhat I didnāt know about life-altering disasters is that, when you are living them, time goes by very slowly.ā)