"How is the little boy?" Catherine asked this morning.
"Oh, he farts fire," the other woman answered. [Il pète le feu, i.e. he's doing very well!]
The French are much more frank about many bodily functions than the prissy Americans. The word péter is not out of polite usage and there is even a pastry called a pet de nonne (nun's fart)-- a delicate cream puff. A firecracker can be called a pétard, and French vaudeville from 1887 to 1914 featured a man named Joseph Pujol, Le Pétomane. He specialized in various farts on stage, and was remarkably gifted in this area. He could play "Clair de Lune" and "Le bon roi Dagobert," put out lights, and imitate farm animals, cannonfire, thunderstorms, and even the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. He was a kind man, and after World War I started, he quit his unique career and went back to his family bakery.
"An artist must know how to let himself loose onstage," he once said.
After he died, his son remarked, "All through his long life, he gave us the best of himself."
Hi there,
I just stumbled upon your blog from Eric's Paris Daily Photo and was so pleased. I had to stop my blog around similar subjects so am happy to see where yours picks up. Keep it up!
Posted by: Michael | 07 June 2006 at 07:04
Ever since my husband translated fireworks into French for me, they have been rechristened "fire farts."
"Will there be many fire farts on Bastille Day?"
Well, it makes me laugh, anyway. :)
Posted by: Vivi | 07 June 2006 at 09:07
The first time I took a trip with ma belle famille (to the US actually), I was so shocked by their casual treatment of all things poo-related. I've never heard so much talk of bodily functions in my life - how flying affects the digestive system, daily updates on if they'd taken a crap or not, etc. That's stuff I don't even share with Fab, let alone the rest of his family!
Posted by: samantha | 07 June 2006 at 21:06