Арсен Аветисов – French Narratives. How France Taught the World to Live, Debate, and Maintain Balance (страница 4)

The French Capacity to Hold the Incompatible

The French know how to live in tension between poles: rationality and passion, order and freedom, individualism and solidarity, rules and their violation. This is not chaos. This is psychological flexibility. The French capacity to hold the incompatible is not national eccentricity but a skill. We are accustomed to thinking: one must choose. The French live differently: one can be different, and therein lies strength.

A person who has mastered this skill ceases to be an object of circumstances. They can be gentle and strong, confident and doubting, practical and romantic, serious and playful. This is his inner balance.

Facts and Contexts

– In France, protest is a recognised form of civic participation, not a deviation.

– French political culture permits public conflict as a means of preserving balance, not destroying it.

– French philosophy of the 20th century (Sartre, Camus, Foucault) formed precisely as a critique of imposed narratives of power.

– Students in French schools are accustomed to debate, argue, and doubt from an early age.

Notes in the Margins

– We live in narratives, not in circumstances.

– The right to doubt is a form of inner freedom.

– An imposed narrative requires dialogue, not submission.

– Contradictions are a source of stability, not a threat to it.

Chapter 5: Wisdom in Selflessness

C’est une perfection absolue, et pour ainsi dire divine, que de savoir jouir loyalement de son estre. (‘Tis an absolute and, as it were, a divine perfection, for a man to know how loyally to enjoy his being.)

Taking care of oneself doesn’t mean putting oneself above others; it means staying alive.*

There is an expression that precisely describes the French approach to life: a person is not obliged to earn his or her own existence. This sounds daring for cultures where self-respect appears only after results. But it is precisely here that one of the key features of the French model manifests itself in what might be called wisdom in selfishness.

The word ‘selfishness’ has long become an accusation. It frightens, suppresses desires, and justifies the denial to enjoy life. In France it sounds different – as care for one’s own resilience. This is the ability not to write off one’s desires as a hindrance, not to postpone joy to ‘later’, and not to turn life into an endless waiting for permission.

Sometimes it is said, ‘French selfishness doesn’t wound others; it saves the French themselves.’ This isn’t about narcissism. This is about refusing self-destructive sacrifice. Such selfishness doesn’t require the disappearance of others; it requires the presence of the person in their own life. It is gentle and sober: respect for one’s time, body, rhythms, and for oneself not as a function but as a living being.

Wise Selfishness: The Right to Be, Not to Seem

The French rarely strive to make an impression. Their interest is not to appear but to live. The ability to live ‘for oneself’ doesn’t mean indifference to others. It begins with recognition of a simple fact: a person torn away from themselves cannot be generous, loving, or stable.

Wise selfishness manifests in the rhythm of everyday life: to eat sitting down rather than on the run, not to turn lunch into a technical pause, to calmly say, ‘Today I shall be alone,’ and to allow oneself to slow down even if the world demands acceleration.

A Frenchman rarely lives in the logic of ‘Someday I shall allow myself joy.’ His model is different: if joy isn’t built into life now, it may disappear completely. Reward is already here: in a cup of coffee, in conversation, in the light beyond the window, in a walk, in the pleasure of being alive rather than in the promise of the future. This is the antithesis of the culture of ‘later’: later I’ll rest, later I’ll be happy, later life will begin. The French experience is harsher: if you’re not living now, you’re not living at all.

What Wise Selfishness Looks Like in Real Life

It is almost invisible. It’s an inner agreement with oneself: I have the right to be human, not a machine. It’s small but constant: to turn off the phone at lunch, to leave the evening empty, not to do the unnecessary ‘because that’s how it’s done’, and to allow oneself to choose quality – not for status, but for the sensation of life.

A person living in this logic distinguishes states. They understand where there is ordinary fatigue and where there is an alarm signal. They rest not because one ‘can’, but because one must. They aren’t afraid of pause, refusal, or choice in favour of themselves.

The French rarely experience guilt over rest. They don’t need to justify themselves for a lazy morning or an evening with a glass of wine. This isn’t rebellion against obligations but a sober understanding of the scale of human energy: it isn’t infinite. To be good for others, one must first be alive.

The French won’t say, ‘I’m sorry, I need time for myself.’ They’ll say, ‘This evening I’m at my place.’ This is a form of inner dignity.

Life Not as a Project, but as Presence

We’re accustomed to living as if life were a long improvement project. One must develop, become better, build a career, and ‘finally become oneself’. In such logic, stopping looks like defeat.

French culture offers a different view: life isn’t a project, but presence. It consists of moments, not only of plans. Its quality is determined not by achievements, but by the ability to be in what is happening.

This manifests in details: in unhurried speech, in a walk without purpose, in lunch as a ritual of return to oneself, in the ability to say ‘no’ without justifications, and in the refusal to confuse ‘to be’ and ‘to seem’.

Wise selfishness is formulated simply: if I don’t take care of my life, no one will do it for me. The French rarely prove their value. They prefer to live valuably. Not correctly, but truly.

Facts and Contexts

– In France, the right to disconnect (droit à la déconnexion) is officially enshrined: the right not to respond to work messages outside working hours.

– French philosophy of the 20th century considered pleasure as part of rationality, not its opposite.

– In French culture, refusal (‘non’) isn’t considered aggression. It is a form of honesty.

Notes in the Margins

– Life is not the future but the present moment.

– Presence is more important than productivity.

– Caring for oneself is part of your meaning, not a luxury.

– Being alive is more important than being correct.

Chapter 6: The Emotional Intelligence of the French

How to derive meaning from emotions

Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point. (The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know.)

Emotion is thought seeking its form.*

In France, Emotion Is Not Treated – It Is Listened To

If you ask foreigners what surprises them most about the French, many will answer: style, cuisine, politics. But almost everyone notes one thing – their attitude to emotions.

In France, emotions aren’t considered a weakness. They are language. They aren’t ashamed of them, don’t hide them, and don’t mask them with rationality. A person who knows how to express feelings is perceived not as uncontrollable, but as honest and mature.

French culture understands emotion not as chaos, but as thought in a state of birth – meaning that hasn’t yet found form. Emotion appears before words, before explanations, before logic. It’s the first vibration of inner life.

The French are emotionally expressive, but not hysterical. Their strength lies in emotional literacy. They know how to talk about subtle shades of experience, to argue without destroying connection, to enjoy without considering pleasure a weakness, and to live through sadness as part of life. For them, emotions aren’t noise but sensors of meaning.

French emotion isn’t about chaos but about authenticity and nuance. Emotions aren’t suppressed, but neither do they control the person. They become the language of inner life, a way to distinguish, understand, and attune oneself. Unlike cultures where emotion is a risk, in France emotion is authenticity.

Emotions as Language, and Not a Problem

The French tradition doesn’t divide emotions into ‘good’ and ‘bad’.

It divides them into honest and dishonest. An honest emotion is one that a person truly lives through. A dishonest one is what he or she portrays to meet expectations.

The French choose the first in everyday life, in culture, in love, and in politics. Therefore, the French argument isn’t simply an exchange of opinions but a search for truth through the emotional collision of meanings.

Emotions don’t need to be suppressed or corrected. This is the language by which humans speak to themselves. Sadness speaks of the important. Joy – of coinciding with oneself. Anger – of violated boundaries. Longing – of lack of meaning.

Thus emotional life turns from chaos into a map by which one can navigate.

Emotions and Meaning: Two Sides of One Axis

In many cultures, emotions and meaning are separated by levels: emotions below, meaning above. Emotions are considered childish, meaning adult. French culture destroys this pyramid.