Dreaming in French: The Paris Years of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy, Susan Sontag, and Angela Davis by Alice Kaplan
Midcentury Paris frequently serves as the backdrop for stories of American men on the cusp of artistic achievement, whose exploits feature the following: sex with nurses, sex with prostitutes, sex with older housewives, sex with younger schoolgirls, and alcohol—endless supplies of alcohol. The Parisian adventures of soon-to-be-renowned American women are somewhat different. For one thing, there are far fewer nurses. When Jacqueline Kennedy, Susan Sontag, and Angela Davis each traveled to Paris, they weren’t fighting a war or attempting to contract every known STD. They were simply young women with student IDs. The Parisian year was traditionally intended to endow young women with an appreciation of French culture so that they would be able to quote Proust while serving hot dogs to their future children. This plan didn’t work out so well. Even the more conventional Jackie, a daughter of the moneyed elite, went a bit too far in her studies, eventually becoming a first lady who was often criticized for being too cosmopolitan, too cultured, and more specifically, “too French.” Sontag went even further to become the cautionary tale par excellence. Parents beware: if you send your daughter to France, she will enter the country as a young wife and leave a bisexual, Marxist intellectual. Frightening, I know. Both women would return to Paris multiple times throughout their lives, checking in on the city like old lovers. But, unfortunately for them, Paris had already moved on—to Angela Davis. If Kaplan teaches you one thing, it’s that the French LOVE Angela Davis. Like, they’re really, really obsessed with her. Countless French films, songs, and novels feature Davis and her iconic story of 1960s political turmoil. Nevertheless, unlike other notable African Americans—such as Josephine Baker and James Baldwin—Davis didn’t consider Paris a racial utopia. Davis does describe receiving better treatment in Paris than she did in her native Alabama (but, really, is this surprising?), yet she also understood that she was of “symbolic usefulness” to the French. By treating her better than they treated the Algerians, the French could term themselves progressive and tolerant—even if their country’s racist narrative remained unchanged. By studying a country’s racist framework as an outsider, Davis gained a better understanding of the underpinnings of ethnic discrimination, fueling her radical political awakening. Davis may not have particularly loved France, but the country seriously couldn’t get enough of her. There is no Susan Sontag Street or Jacqueline Kennedy Way in Paris, but there’s more than one Rue Angela Davis. Continue reading “Weekly Girl Crush”
