beyond french snobbery
a discussion about the differences between french and english literature with ema, whom I have more in common than I anticipated – merci la france
Bookisher — I went to see Costanza Casati in conversation with Samantha Shannon on Friday about her latest historical novel, Babylonia. As I was walking around Waterstones’ flagship in Piccadilly Circus, I heard these two French women talking about some book covers. The conversation went:
“I don’t understand why they always make such a fuss about the covers in English countries,” one said
“It looks cheap. Why do they always put flowers on the covers? Make it plain,” her friend responded.
THIS perfectly exemplifies what I mean by French snobbery and coincides with my recent reflections on my literary journey, particularly the challenges I faced growing up in the French educational system.
French literature… arg, it is indeed a foggy contemplation, one that many might resonate with.
The world of French literature, while rich and profound, often felt inaccessible to me as I was growing up. Professors and peers alike seemed to possess a certain snobbery, making me question my intelligence and ability to appreciate the great works of French authors.
So when I was thinking about who I’d love to speak to for this week’s newsletter, Ema, a fellow literary enthusiast and student in publishing at UCL, sprung to mind.
While she grew up internationally, spending her formative years in Singapore before introducing herself to reading in English at the age of 15, Ema is of French nationality. During our conversation, what struck me was her take on the differences between French and English literature.
"French literature very much explores emotions a lot more. I feel like they'll have fewer characters in a book, but they'll try to develop every single one so intensely so that it really feels like actual, individual people." This depth of emotional exploration is both a strength and a challenge, often leaving readers with a sense of heaviness. Something we agreed on, and which, in my opinion, isn’t as present in English literature.
Ema also touched on the tendency of French literature to be somewhat negative, which can be daunting for young readers. "It's rarer for me to read a little romance book in France that I'm like, ‘Oh, wow, that's so wholesome.’ Usually, I'll finish a French book and think, ‘Wow, yeah, that was heavy.’"
Anyhow… I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with her, who, after living a year in London, is going back to Paris where she’ll be interning at Albin Michel, an independent French publisher.
Scroll down for Ema’s book recommendations and my quote of the moment, and give her a follow on Instagram.
Sam’s current reads:
Blue Sisters, Coco Mellors
Babylonia, Costanza Casati
I recommend Casati’s Clytemnestra if you haven’t read it yet.
LONDON – Reading in another language can be daunting, especially when you’re so passionate about the written word and love literature. However, the rewards are plentiful. Not only does it open up a treasure trove of literary works that you might otherwise miss, but it also deepens your understanding of the language and culture.
Yet, reading literature in the language I heard since stepping into this world seemed impossible.
Growing up, I was made to feel as though reading Albert Camus would be a herculean task for “someone like me” as I would not understand the nuances of his writing. Honoré de Balzac, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, and George Sand (her actual name being Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil) were all classic authors I was told I could not read; I was not smart enough to understand their prose.
I was glad to see that my approach to French literature was, if not shared, understood.
As Ema said, French literature tends to be more negative and pessimistic, often portraying relationships and the world in a darker light. It’s rare to find a wholesome romance book in French; they tend to leave you feeling heavy and contemplative.
Despite this, much like Ema, immersing myself in these works has allowed me to experience the rich emotional depth that French authors bring to their stories. It’s a challenging yet profoundly rewarding endeavour—one that will have me continuously doubt myself.
Somehow—and it’s not to say that one is lesser than the other—I have found reading English literature a lot easier. Sometimes, it can be simply due to the translation, other times, it is more than that.
Ema finds older English literature easier to understand than old French literature. For example, she recounted how she struggled with Jane Austen's Emma in French but found it easier to understand in its original English.
“I had read like Emma in French and I kind of hated it and found it super difficult to understand. But when I read it in its original form, [English], I found it easier to understand.”
Romance thrives in English literature but is less prominent in French literature, Ema said. She mentioned that while French literature has classical romance books, the genre doesn't sell as well in France, partly due to literary snobbery.
“I had a phase where I was a little scared of books because of that,” she told me. “I would be scared to say I enjoyed reading because I would get grilled on what I had recently read. I'd be like, The Hunger Games,” to which many French people would roll their eyes.
“In France, from my personal experience, people are a lot more into reading very classical or thought-provoking literature. Saying, for example, that you read Colleen Hoover would be a lot less accepted here than it would be in the UK or the US.”
Growing up, she didn't initially enjoy reading that kind of book, so discussing her fondness for reading was intimidating because she preferred young adult or fiction novels that were purely entertaining.
“Then I grew up and realized, you know what, if I enjoy this, I enjoy this.”
She also noted that popular romance authors in English, such as Hoover or Ali Hazelwood, don't have French equivalents. Certain genres, such as philosophical books, are indeed better represented in French literature, which Ema and I enjoy reading more in their original language.
As briefly touched upon earlier in the newsletter, French literature often explores emotions more deeply. Ema cited Irène Némirovsky—a Ukrainian Jewish novelist who lived most of her life in France and whose citizenship was denied— as an example of an author who writes characters in great detail, making them feel real. She contrasted this with English literature, where side characters can sometimes be reduced to singular traits.
French author André Gide, who won the 1947 Nobel Prize in Literature, wrote in his Journals 1889-1949 that the problem with English literature is that authors don’t understand what to omit. My understanding is that he probably meant that English authors tend to include unnecessary or excessive details in their writing. And in my experience, English authors have indeed left me less room for imagination than French authors have.
I, however, and forever, feel vindicated. I re-read L’étranger last month and I can honestly say that there was no fuss to be had.
À bientôt.
Ema’s book recommendations and favourite quote:
La nuit des temps, Barjavel
L’ennemie, Irène Némirovsky
Educated, Tara Westover
Any Deborah Levy books.
Favourite quote: Captain Wentworth's letter to Anne in Persuasion by Jane Austen.
Another thing I did to deflect the course of my thoughts was to listen to my heart. I couldn’t imagine that this faint throbbing which had been with me for so long would ever cease
L’étranger, Albert Camus