Monsieur Wolcott,
I must admit, your article was très amusant. I am French by culture, Basque by blood, and married to a French guy who breathes advice. Were his advice device disabled, he would become apoplectic (while I may breathe more easily, bien sûr.) He thinks it is an active part of listening. You have a problem; I will find a solution for you. It's just part of our pragmatist background. The fact that the solution may not work is, of course, irrelevant. It’s participation that matters. Opinion. Show me a French without an opinion, and I’ll show you a Martian with only superficial imitative skills.
As for your remarks on les femmes, cher Monsieur Wolcott, they seem to come as canned as bad sardines. France is a country of individualists, and you will find as many different women as you will find female inhabitants. That goes for the Parisienne as well. While an author like Helena Fritz Powell will make assertive statements about her characteristics (the Française or the Parisienne), you will find a dozen who will assert otherwise. As for the late-in-life virgin Sophie Fontanel, you may find her next year at the Folies Bergères celebrating the coming out of her new book on very special soirées. Eh oui, the French like to make noise, get attention to sell their books (oh, non!), or simply be agents provocateurs.
In any case, Monsieur Wolcott, merci for amusing a French woman with your own amusement. Next time, however, don’t mention Russian actors like Gérard Depardieu. S'il vous plait.
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