In 1926: living at the edge of time - Monoskop

AMERICANS IN PARIS 17
to pay for his ticket. No other solution seems left to the colonel than to
throw himself into the ocean-between a continent that he has never
quite conquered and another to which those who have lost their hearts
in Europe can never quite return.
Born in Latin America, Supervielle, who writes this strange narrative
of transatlantic desire spanning "Paris, the Atlantic Ocean, and Uruguay"
(222), is readily accepted as a French author by a broad reading
public. North American citizens of Paris, in contrast, seem to make
French friends only on the margins of society. Praising Barbette, an
American cross-dresser who performs in the Parisian music halls, Jean
Cocteau allows himself-hesitantly-to imagine New York as a space
for his desire: "After years of Americanism during which the capital of
the United States hypnotized us like a gun, leaving us with our hands up,
Barbette's performance shows me at least the real New York, with the
ostrich feathers of its sea, its factories, its highrise buildings made of
tulle, its precision, its Siren voice, its jewelry, its plumes of light." Not
without many implicit and explicit excuses, Walter Benjamin admits, in
a review of the translation of an American novel, that what European
intellectuals tend to ridicule as "American naivete" has a charm and
purity long vanished on their own continent: "The fact that this novel
has been a bestseller for months puts the American public, which has
been so harshly criticized, in a more favorable light. It demonstrates not
only the childish affection the Yankees have for children ... but actual
naivete, which finds joy in a love story that is beautiful only because the
poet tells it with such unusual purity" (Benjamin, 43).
Other than as intellectuals who are perceived as different because of a
lack or an excess of sophistication, North Americans are at best merely
tolerated by Europeans as paying customers. Thus, while admitting that
the example of American tourism has encouraged travel on the Continent,
the head of the Hoteliers Association, in an article for the Berliner
Tageblatt of July 25, maintains a strictly descriptive level of discourse:
"Today's hotel guests get around quite a bit more than in the old days.
Being cosmopolitan means being Americanized. It also means being
influenced by sports and health concerns. These have revolutionized
hotel cuisine. Who still eats thick soups nowadays?" In his concluding
paragraph, however, he can no longer resist the temptation of ridiculing
what is generally seen as Americans' lack of intellectual maturity: "Also,
the hotel guest has become more political. In Germany, we cannot follow