by Vanick der Bedrossian

Paris, January 2, 2008

Jet-lagged and sleepless on this brisk Parisian morning, I am just barely recovering from the careless debauchery of my New Year’s Eve celebration. Leaving my splitting hangover aside, I feel like a walking ashtray. My clothes and hair reek of cigarette smoke and my lungs have gone on strike. But I am not the only one bracing with a rough wake-up. This morning Paris, along with the rest of France is waking up to the first day of the mandated smoking ban in all bars, cafés and restaurants. For the first time in this nation’s history citizens will be banned from puffing away while sipping their kirs, or swigging pints of beer. My favorite bar near Saint Michel, called Le Panthalon, will never be the same. It’s long zinc bar and worn out art-deco tables will be lacking their customary cendrillers (ash trays), marking the definitive end of an era of French café and bar culture.

Around the world the French have the stereotype of being cigarette-craved bon vivants, indulging in all the pleasurable vices this life has to offer. At bars, clopes (slang for cigarettes) often punctuate conversations and flirtations. They give people the time to chill, mellow out and scope out the cute guys and gals while looking way too cool for anyone. The act of smoking is commensal, a ritual of sorts intended to celebrate life, drink and friends. When people smoke together, passing a fire around, they are implicitly showing their fondness of each other. They are giving thanks. In French culture, eating pleasures the body, drinking soothes the soul, and smoking clears the mind. But with this newly enacted smoking ban, the Holy Trinity of French pleasures may be forever crippled.
But where does this modern-day obsession with cigarettes in bars come from? The post-World War II era in France was characterized by a break from olden mentalities. French existential philosophy was on the rise, greatly influencing twentieth century thought. Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre, two of the most influential philosophers of that time, were famous for chain-smoking. Their usual hangout was the Café Flore located in the heart of the Latin Quarter, on rue Saint-Germain-Des-Pres. They sat at small tables drinking fermented apricot wine, smoking cigarettes and changing the world, eventually inspiring future generations of French youth with their revolutionary insight and cloudy habits: the student riots of 1968 unraveled, leading to broad changes in student rights. Youths confronted the government and shut down university campuses, chanting slogans such as the famous-and in this context quite ironic-“Il est interdit d’interdir” (it is forbidden to forbid). Unfailingly, cigarettes were consumed in cafés and bars by the modern, hip and rebellious students of that era.
During this same time, French cinema underwent dramatic changes. The Nouvelle Vague film era, made famous, amongst others, by Jean-Luc Goddard’s film A bout de Souffle (1960), was sweeping across the nation. In this cult classic, the rebellious, young and handsome Michel (played by French sex symbol Jean-Paul Belmondo) tries seducing Patricia (played by Jean Seberg), a sexy young American living in Paris. They are smoking in just about every scene, mostly in bars and cafés, exuding a coolness and style that is still very trendy today. Trying to pull off that same stunt now under the new anti-smoking laws will cost you 68 euros ($100).
Early on in France, cigarettes were associated with the rebelious youth values of sexual liberation, leftist ideology and gender/racial equality. Cigarettes symbolized revolt and change from a closed-minded social and political past. Those same young baby boomers from the 1960’s got older and wiser, but kept up the smoking habit. Today’s French youth has perpetuated that love affair with cigarettes, but this smoking ban may prevent France’s future generations from that fate.

Now don’t get me wrong. Smoking is bad. It is addictive, causes lung cancer and kills thousands of people every year. I understand why France enacted this law and I know that it is ultimately a good thing for my own health, hair and clothes, as well as for the health of this nation. But today I eulogize and lament. The cigarette is dead, and with it a part of the Paris I cherish has gone up in smoke. Indeed, a long tradition has ended. The drink has divorced the cigarette. For all you young Americans thinking of backpacking across Europe, you now stand warned!