…Or all the things I never knew

Over the last year, having disposed of my English library, and left with French books or nothing, I have read books I would never have touched, enjoyed most of them, or persevered through a slow, turgid few pages to get into the book. The latest is for our literary competition, Cook to the Kennedys. That family does not interest me, but the cook’s life provoked a little article for our in-house magazine on ‘People with no roots’. She was found, a one day old baby, on the steps of the presbytery. Taken in as a ‘pupil of the state’ she was placed with excellent foster mothers, and dressed and educated under state direction. My last huge house had been 5 houses in the 1850’s. One was occupied by a butcher and his wife, a mid-wife. All the unmarried mothers around were sent to her. For a few years French law allowed the mothers to withhold their names, the babies were born under ‘X’ and given the name of the month, a flower or a saint. I have two adopted mix race daughters.

The ‘no roots’ has repercussions, even if the lives, as did that of the cook, turn out well. Never mind if you cannot trace your family back to some noble source, it is more serious. If you are ill, or have to fill in insurance forms you are asked if there is a tendency to certain illnesses in your family, no idea.

The next striking book was ‘The Barman of the Ritz’, in Paris. If this has been translated, read it. He was an accomplished barman, serving famous writers and film stars. The bulk of the story is how he coped during the Occupation. He had to deal with the elite of the German High Command. One was a professional soldier, hated the Nazi regime and was highly cultured. There were the collaborators, getting rich under the Occupation. Then, this was the barman’s main story, he was part Jewish. He had acquired false papers, but always scared. He took great risks, via a Swedish diplomat to get Jews out of the country. This book led me to see how ignorant I really was about France under the German Occupation. I had been a bit patronising when talking to French people of my age who seemed lacking in general culture, then I found, and was ashamed, that many had hardly any education at all, working in the fields from 10 years old to replace the men.

Now, I have a major challenge. 80th anniversary of the end of war in Europe. I was 10 in 1945, never suffered real danger or lack of food and education. I am going to try, for May, to get a survey together of my co-Residents. Were they more affected by when they were ‘liberated’ or the actual end of the war? Can you remember a day/time which is imprinted on your mind? The mind jumps to Leah, who, sadly, saw her whole life go up in flames. 

The Gardener

A Moodscope member