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Another Perspective
Québec, Je T’aime
Delight sans jet lag.
As my flight to Montreal lifted off the deck at Dulles airport, I said my customary Act of Contrition and a prayer for safe return to my lovely wife. But temptation was just over the border. For me, the Province of Québec is a near occasion of sin.
Spanning the sacred through the profane, my sinful inclinations encompass an over-indulgence in the beauty of La Nouvelle-France’s churches, basilicas, countryside, waterfalls, the St. Lawrence River, its food and wine, architecture and the population’s general air of insouciance amidst the English-speaking masses of North America.
There are a lot of pretty women there in trendy clothes inspired by Parisian fashion, although the colder climate, even in September, lends to the style and cut of their clothes a certain solidity which only a Canadian winter can infuse into a designer’s imagination.
Québec, je t’aime!
While Québec City is the jewel of North America and the foundation of French Canada thanks to the tenacity of the great man, Champlain, I do love Montreal, my destination on this business trip. I sometimes refer to it, in jest, as Chicago in French. It is the largest city in the province and the second largest in Canada. It is approaching 4 million people in its broader metropolitan area. The downtown is a forest of skyscrapers.
But what enthralls visitors, this one included, is Le Vieux Montréal, nestled alongside the St. Lawrence, with cobblestone streets and greystone structures all about. While one must dodge the usual assortment of tourist traps, the shops, restaurants and the crowds are great fun. The neighborhood, typical of old cities, was designed for the walker rather than an automobile.
Having arrived in town mid-day on a Sunday before my meeting, I was able to attend Mass at the gloriously gothic Basilique de Notre Dame with its twin towers, Temperance and Perseverance, towering over the Place d’Armes. Its altar is enveloped by a wonderfully sculpted polychrome wood with gold leaf.
The basilica’s acoustics are magnificent, and it has one of the largest and most imposing organs one can find anywhere in North America. At the conclusion of services, during and after the priest’s procession out of the sanctuary, the organist let it rip with an impressive baroque piece, utilizing the full range and volume of his instrument. He was rewarded by hearty applause from the congregation, something I normally do not approve of in church — but there are exceptions to every rule, oui?
To the left of the altar, there is also a small, charming statue of St. Joan of Arc, one of my heroines of choice, as she was for Mark Twain. One of the best books I ever read was the historical novel, An Army of Angels by Pamela Marcantel, based on the latest scholarship on one of the most remarkable persons in the history of Western Europe. It is a gripping, moving story of a young girl, a religious mystic and a leader of men, who turned the tide against the English, was betrayed, burned at the stake and, ultimately, canonized hundreds of years later. The author kindly provides a helpful note in which she reveals the few instances where she might have taken artistic license with the historical record or even the Saint’s description of events.
Actually attending religious services in a Catholic Church in Montreal was encouraging. My sense on past visits to the region was that the churches are more museums than thriving houses of worship. Québec is very much like Europe in this regard. A historic, even extreme clericalism has generated various stages of anti-clericalism and secularism. One must appreciate the salutary nature of James Madison’s First Amendment in avoiding the perverse dialectic of established churches yielding resentment and hostility to religion per se in the United States.
My wife and I once attended a sparsely populated Mass at an English-speaking parish in Québec City. The priest and the nuns in attendance fawned all over us as if they were waiters in a five-star restaurant. By that I mean, they were extremely hospitable and welcoming as if they appreciated the solidarity we displayed simply showing up. In fairness, being English-speaking may have been as much of a problem for that church as was the secularism of the age.
Seeing a living, praying congregation attending to the sacrament was an unexpected pleasure on this trip to Le Mont du Roi.
When I wasn’t praying or meeting, I was eating. This is, after all, French Canada. I will not bore the reader with a plethora of details as to my consumption habits. But it is hard to find a bad meal in Québec province unless you dine at an American chain restaurant.
There are reasons for my Francophilia. I grew up in St. Louis near the confluence of the nation’s great rivers, the Missouri and the Mississippi. Captain Joseph La Barge (1815-1899), my ancestor, on my mother’s side, piloted steamboats between St. Louis and Fort Benton, Montana. The historian of the Missouri River, Hiram Martin Chittenden claimed that “He was on the first boat that went to the far upper river, and he made the last through voyage from St. Louis to Fort Benton.” The great Audubon, another person of French heritage, was among his many passengers. His tithe, so to speak, was in the form of free transport for the Jesuit missionaries heading for the territories.
The upper reaches of the great river are no longer navigable due to the many dams erected pursuant to the Flood Control Act of 1944. However, at Fort Benton, Montana you will find a promontory overlooking the river named after Captain La Barge.
About the Author
G. Tracy Mehan, III served at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency in the administrations of both Presidents Bush. He is a consultant in Arlington, Virginia, and an adjunct professor at George Mason University School of Law.
Letter to the Editor View all comments (36) | Leave a comment
More Articles by G. Tracy Mehan, III
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Tim*| 9.28.10 @ 7:30AM
Sacre Bleu !
Alan Brooks| 9.28.10 @ 2:18PM
You remember zee burglar of Banf-f-f, no?
Tomas| 9.28.10 @ 6:49PM
I lived most of my life within an hour from Montreal. While it doesn't rival Paris in terms of its old-world grandeur, it remains - and will always be - my favorite city. It's a tremendous mix of history and modernity. One can roam its many cultural enclaves for weeks, each one offering the sights and sounds of its roots.
Space limits enumeration of even a fraction of the palette offered in this magnificent city.
And don't get me started on the hockey!
I guess being half Quebecois makes my opinion rather prejudiced.... :-)
Get there. Revel in it. Canada is not America's Hat. It's a beautiful country with a rich heritage.
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Alan Brooks| 9.28.10 @ 8:24PM
"Canada is not America's Hat."
Tell that to more of the guys at AS.
PJ| 9.28.10 @ 8:46AM
I like the French alot even w/their socialistic tendencies. Having been to France a couple of times, I can attest that the French are a group of people who like what they like & who know who they are which includes being very kind people. There's no middle ground w/them or wishy-washiness. You know where they stand.
Petronius| 9.28.10 @ 9:31AM
This piece almost closes the gap in the circle, or bridges the distance between Olde Louisiana and New France. Were it not for the French and Indian/7 Years Wars neither place would be as they are now. The one over riding truth about both is the decay of their Catholicity brought on by the political fallout from both continents. Throne and Altar along with noblesse oblige are supplanted by cohorts, pressure groups, and sue thy neighbor. As a result it's really thin on the ground down by the Gravois under the Anheuser Busch. And the River des Peres Yacht Club is no more. The one French attribute prevalent here is the lack of vision and ambition they call malaise.
Sam Vaughn| 9.28.10 @ 9:33AM
Yes, once you master their use of the double entendre you may be on safe ground understanding where a french person stands.... ;)
Cheers, I love french culture as well....
Steve A| 9.28.10 @ 9:31AM
Wow, a commentary about Canadian French influence. Pardon me while I hit the snooze button.
Caped Crusader| 9.28.10 @ 9:59AM
Agreed, a nice place to visit. But to me Quebec City is even "quainter", more French and more fun since smaller. There is a smoldering resentment that English speaking Canadians refuse to learn French. Years ago after seeing Montmerency Falls and the unique church in St. Anne de Baupre we stopped at a roadside restaurant where nobody could speak English. After getting nowhere in English I cut loose with my "Tennessee French" and it turned out that everyone spoke beautiful English and finding out we were from Tennessee and could speak some halting French everyone was very jovial and impressed. After that a good time and meal was had by all. Seems they do this to irritate the folks in western Canada just for sport.
Renard| 9.28.10 @ 8:54PM
Just last week I had this same experience you described not once, but several times. Although I had been to Ontario numerous times, business took me to Quebec (to a small town near Trois Rivieres) for the first time in my life. I was a bit concerned, as my French consists of only a few memorized phrases.
But, I quickly found that nearly everyone was friendly, and when I would ask "Parlez vous anglais?", the response was pleasant. However, what I REALLY found interesting was that everyone thought I was from ONTARIO. When I said, "Non, je suis americain - indiana", as if someone turned on a light switch, faces would just light up! The cute waitress at the little restaurant where I ate just loved the fact that I asked her to save the cap from my Labatt "Bleue" bottle for my son's collection, because I knew that he would love the French words.
I told several people there "Au revoir", because as I told them, I know that sometime in the future, I will return to Quebec!
Caped Crusader| 9.28.10 @ 11:25PM
Since I'd had 3 years of French we were a little better off. If one does not have the opportunity to speak a language those skills are rapidly depleted, but I find reading skills degrade much slower. When stopping to search for the proper word and pronunciation they were very often obliging and filled in the spoken blanks for me to the amusement of all concerned, the effort put forth being the critical factor
Caped Crusader| 9.28.10 @ 11:34PM
Just happened to be in Montreal in 1963 when the FLQ was bombing the mail boxes and on the very day a bomb squad man was seen blown up live on TV. Very tense times, similar to city days following the assassination of MLK
Mary Breed| 9.28.10 @ 10:10AM
Having also grown up in St Louis in the 1950's, and having also been taught by the "Religieuses du Sacre Coeur de Jesus", the influence of the French culture and language seemed to be everywhere. Let's hope those in American cities can retain the ethnic and cultural charm of their past as successfully as those in Montreal. It sounds "tres charmant"! And as for the similarities between the French personality and the American - even though most Americans may bristle as the thought, it's so true!
Sandra| 9.28.10 @ 10:23AM
I am an American, with Québécois ancestors. There still is some extended family contact and as a child I learned French as spoken in Quebec. It did make my travels through the country of France interesting.
The world of my grandparents' families had changed so much, from their childhoods and their memories to what I saw and experienced growing up in the 1960s on family visits.
Some is coming back, the disjointed and convulsive decades of the late 20th century is giving way BACK to a renewal in Québécois' identity.
Only along the border in places like Hull and Ottawa does it seem the language war skirmishes are hot.
Nice piece, and thank-you for the reminder history lesson.
Ted| 9.29.10 @ 8:53PM
Speaking of language-war skirmishes:
I was in Ottawa on tour last summer, and got into a conversation with the security guy at the club. As we talked, I noticed a scar that ran across the top of his forehead, along his scalpline. Although I wouldn't have dreamed of asking him how he got that, I did have a sort of impolite curiosity about it. The story came out as we talked about the French language, and the province of Québec, whose Western border was just a few kilometers away. He grew up in Québec and was a native French speaker, and learned English while living and working in Ontario. One night over twenty years ago, he was in a bar in Québec with his English-speaking girlfriend, and they of course were conversing in English. This did not sit well with a group of men standing near them, and one of them kept bumping him with his shoulder just to be annoying. When they left the bar, three of the men were lying in wait outside to attack him and lay his head open with a brick.
Frog in Uniform| 9.28.10 @ 10:38AM
Dear writer and dear contributors, you really made my day! I think it's universal among people of good will: Visit my country and genuinely be interested in it and try sincerely to speak my language and I'll do anything for you. It's the same welcome I got around Ft Benning, when I crossed the river and started to be lost in rural Alabama... Everybody was nice, even in rough neighborhoods, although they couln't help burst in laughter upon hearing my Inspecteur Clouseau accent! You love France? You'll never love it as much as I love your country.
And by the way, I really wouln't like Quebec or Louisiana to look like too much to France, not like the corrupt dump it seems to have become.
God Bless America.
RH| 9.28.10 @ 11:05AM
Your article brought back so many memories this morning!! My husband and I lived for 12 years in France and for 5 years in Quebec!! My oldest daughter is married to a Quebecois and now lives among the Franco-Albertans in Alberta, Canada!!
We never followed politics in either place and just enjoyed the beauty and charm of the friends we made!! Thank you so much for sharing about your trip and thoughts today!!
Will| 9.28.10 @ 11:11AM
Thanks for the lovely piece about Quebec and France. I absolutely loved being in Paris, and adore Quebec City. Never understood all the anti-French sentiment here. Anyone with half a brain knows that France (and all of Western Europe for that matter) has many good conservatives. Yes, there are Communist parties, as there are parties that are diametrically opposite. I can't wait to get back to Chateau Frontenac, as well as getting back to exploring the Louvre.
Ed| 9.28.10 @ 11:19AM
I agree with Caped Crusader that best part of Quebec starts with Quebec City and continues to the northeast. Quebec City's Old Town is unique, and Montmerency Falls and the huge church in St. Anne de Baupre are spectacular. Also worth a trip is Tadoussac and its fjord (which is filled with beluga whales).
Quebec country cooking is "stick to the ribs" fare and is similar to Amish, Virginian, and Cajun cuisine (minus the hot peppers).
ncatty| 9.28.10 @ 11:48AM
Would you rather live in a former French colony or a British one?
Paul H.| 9.28.10 @ 1:20PM
Ah, those quaint Quebecois....
Why it was only a few years ago they were putting bombs in the mail boxes hoping to "knock-off" a few of those nasty Anglais who refused to learn french. And who can forget those halcyon days when they found Pierre LaPorte, a Quebec government minister who had the temerity to say he was against seperatism.
Then we can think back fondly on the time the UN admonished the Quebec government for it's suppression of English speakers.
Ah, the place is just a delight of harmony and tranquillity. Its a veritable utopia, I am sure the Obamians would feel very much at home there.
Best regards to all.
Paul H.
Paul H.| 9.28.10 @ 1:23PM
Pierre LaPorte was found murdered in the trunk of a car and the crime was never solved.
My errata
Ken (Old Texican)| 9.28.10 @ 1:33PM
BORING ARTICLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No other comment.
Steve A| 9.28.10 @ 1:49PM
Ken, Zzzzzzzzzz, Snoooooooze, Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Canadian intrigue mixed with Parisian fashion makes for an explosive blockbuster of a piece. What are you thinking??
SF_Exile| 9.28.10 @ 2:36PM
Wonderful article! I always enjoy being an armchair tourist and see a favorite destination through another's eyes.
I have had quite a few opportunities to slip across the border and enjoy some time in Québec. My first trip to Québec City was in 1986 amid the height of the Parti Québecois movement. At that point French was not only necessary it was mandatory. Even in a large, corporate hotel like the Chateau Frontenac it was essential. I returned in 2000 and found a different city. Still essentially French, but without the militance for language I'd encountered the first time. My by-then rusty French still carried me through and while not essential it added to the experience. Although marked as an American by my accent, my efforts were still appreciated.
Montreal is fully multilingual and while the language policies can be annoying, Franglish works for most situations.
David T.| 9.28.10 @ 3:23PM
Loved every word. Vive la French Canada!
Angelo Zenga| 9.28.10 @ 3:50PM
Very nice article, you have totally captured the essence of Quebec. However, it is a distinct French society that has developed in "La Belle Province", much different than the "Motherland" France. The Catholic church which was once the guardian of this small French society in North America, has been abandoned by French Quebeccers. The percentage of catholic practice by French Quebeccers now stands in single digit The results, is that well over half of those wonderful old churches are for sale.
Gary B| 9.28.10 @ 4:22PM
Glad you appreciate my province.
The sparsely populated Mass at the English-speaking parish in Quebec City was most likely St Patrick Parish. My father was born in Quebec City and was part of the small yet active Irish community that existed in Quebec City. Much of them have moved on to other cities such as Montreal and Toronto.
I grew up and still live in Montreal but I must agree that Old Quebec is by far more charming than Old Montreal.
MoeBlotz| 9.28.10 @ 5:43PM
You can have all the snooty faux French rubbish,I'll stick with the beer and cider society of Sir John A's British influenced provinces. Celebrating the vernal equinox at the annual welli boot chuck at Kingston Brewing Co. in Kingston,Ontario is a must for serious punters.
Sam| 9.28.10 @ 6:14PM
Much appreciated reflection .
Jenny| 9.28.10 @ 9:44PM
I love Canada. Even the French part.
Mlle. Yvette | 9.29.10 @ 2:43AM
Le Québec est véritablement une belle ville.
(Quebec is truly a beautiful city)
Ted| 9.29.10 @ 8:28PM
Really enjoyed this article. Brought back memories of my first visit to Québec City, in January 2007. I drive entertainer coaches for a living, and was trying to get a band to the Théâtre Capitole to load in for that night's show. I found myself driving my 45-foot bus with its 15-foot equipment trailer the wrong way down one of those one-way streets in the old city. Since I couldn't exactly make a U-turn, but could tell by the honking horns and (polite but urgent) sign language of pedestrians that I needed to get my act together, I got out to ask directions. But no one spoke English!
I was already fluent in Spanish and Portuguese, and there I was in North America, not able to understand a word people were saying, yet it was their city, so I couldn't exactly expect them to speak English. That was the day I decided to take up French. It's been an interesting venture, more difficult than expected, and has included several trips to various parts of France to practice with native speakers. Probably the most important thing I've learned from my dealings with the French is that it's a valuable exercise to try to understand how they have come to think and act the way they do, rather than judge them based on our own programming. Stereotypes exist because there is some truth to them, but I have also met many wonderful French people. I've also discovered a whole new world of music and literature, thanks in part to the many podcasts offered by Radio France-- Georges Brassens, Jacques Brel, Lynda LeMay, Isabelle Boulay, Holden, Andrée Watters, Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo...
Ted| 9.29.10 @ 10:37PM
FWIW I just noticed there is someone else posting as Ted in other articles (e.g. about Thomas Sowell). Different person.
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