So we have another wonderful pice of music that I've never heard but instantly like. I must say though that French rap doesn't sound so bad ass to me. French is a romantic language - I mean they could be rapping about drugs and like killing or something but I'd never know. I think they were talking about Charlemagne and a fight. I've taken Spanish for so many years and I heard the word pelear - which means to fight in Spanish. I also heard the word "Charlemagne" but I could've been mistake. Alrighty then to the story and away!!
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Growing up hadn't always been easy for Maddie. As she walked down the city street she saw a couple fighting and that shoved her back into her dark and painful past.
Instantly she was back in the dark bedroom - but this time she was watching herself at age 6. She followed her young eyes to the door which was cracked to let in the light from the hallway. Her parents shouts grew louder. She caught only a few words - but she clearly understood their meaning. Hate and Anger coated every word that her parents spoke. She cowered in that dark room. Afraid. Sad. They were fighting about her - she knew it - they hated how they had to stay together because of her. It was all her fault. She was to blame. The light seemed to mock her in the darkness. Maddie watched as her at age 6 crawled out of bed and threw open the door. Her parents froze for one second staring at her, and then picked right back up again. She threw open her arms trying to separate them.
"STOP!" she yelled. "Daddy, mommy please stop fighting!!" It was no use. These two had hated each other more than they cared for their little daughter.
Maddie resurfaced. She knew that the fights had never been about her and Ian. Her parents were unhappy people. She continued walking and passed an arguing couple. She looked down and saw their little son looking up at his parents. His eyes meet hers and for one brief second Maddie saw the horror and sorrow in his eyes. She felt his pain, but it was not her place to interject.
As Maddie continued down the street she saw how awful it truly was. Garbage, broken bottle, glass shards, empty cans littered the street. The overflowing dumpsers and added to the stench in the air. Graffiti was the prominent art in this neighborhood. She saw little kids playing tag in the street and was briefly cheered. Life couldn't be that bad could it? Surely some people grew up with a strong loving family. But before that happiness became permanent, shouts from one of the homes brought back a memory.
Her parents are fighting again. They're bickering in the kitchen over who has to pay what bill, or who should pay for new shoes for Ian, Maddie's little brother. She somehow knows that she and her younger brother have become pawns in their parents' battle. She hates herself. She is the cause of this. She is 7 now and the fights still continue. If she runs away will they be happy? Her parent's become more angered. Arms are quickly moving in anger, their voices are growing in intensity. Maddie and Ian are frozen to the spot - their pain is apparent on their faces. If only the parents would stop and look.
Maddie shakes off that memory and walks further down the road. When she reaches the end she takes a right and heads toward the park. She hears shouts of her name and quickens her pace. She sees her husband and her daughter playing tag and she smiles. Yes she thinks, there are families out there that truly love each other.
First, about the song itself, because this is just cool: "To fight" in french is battre. They do say "combat" which is pronounced differently but means the same in both languages. And no, there's no Charlmagne. This band is different from most rap groups, even in france. They're french celtic rap, and their songs are mostly old celtic stories. This one is about this man who has to leave his wife and son at home to go out and find with his fellow celts in the Tribe of Dana (the goddess Diana). They go through some druiadic rituals to bring him into the tribe, then they go out to fight. It's his first day of battle, he's terrified, and his whole tribe is slaughtered - except him. For some reason, they leave him alone and go away, and he steps up to become king of the tribe. He goes home to rejoin his wife and son at home.
ReplyDeletethe first time I read through the lyrics - and mind you, my friend was only semi-fluent - I made a mistake. The word "lutte" I misread as meaning lute, or some sort of instrument. I thought the narrator was playing music on the field, sort of like a side member of the group. It says "la lutte etait terrible" so I thought it meant he was playing badly, haha! And then they left without killing him, and I thought it was because of his non-fighting role in the tribe. I loved that story. Later I realized "lutte" meant battle. The battle was terrible, not the playing or the instrument. He was just a new fighting guy. That was kind of disappointing. Originally when I drew this song, since I already knew the story and have been listening to it for 10 years, I thought I'd have to write that story, the one I mistakenly heard, because I didn't think I could shut off the words and listen to the music for meaning. (Jason's having a hard time, too, since he knows the story, too.)
Second, about your story, I do think it's funny we both came up with conflict! And in families, too. I'm glad she ended up in a good family. That's so hard to do when you come from a past full of fighting. Your vision of "normal" becomes skewed.
ReplyDeleteYeah. Ah. See - French is such a pretty language I would have never thought they were rapping about war! And lol about him not being killed because he was a musician. Do you speak French?
ReplyDeleteI came from that story. Parents always fighting. My sister and I are 2 different people. I feel I've come away as "normal" as I'm going to get. I still get scared when people are fighting - even though I know it's not about me, and sometimes I still dream of that bedroom with the cracked door letting in the light.
I used to speak french competantly enough to get by in France, though never fully fluently. Since I had kids and had to leave college, though, my fluency level has dropped really badly. I'm sure if I went back to france and had to get by, I'd pick it back up pretty quickly, but right now I've lost a lot of it.
ReplyDeleteMy parents fought a lot too, and in my marriage I find I don't have anything to turn to, to reference to, when something's wrong. Jason has his parents as a good reference, but i don't have anything. I'm as "normal" as I can be, and my parents were terrible or anything, but still when your family is dysfunctional it's hard to become someone different than what you know.
I agree. Vince had kind of the same thing (his parents are divorced too) so it helps when we both come to a problem and we work out how to solve it. My sister believes that there is a universal book out there the tells parents how to be - and I don't agree with that at all. How you become a parent is half of your growing up and half of what you believe it what it should be.
ReplyDeleteI imagine Frenchmen think their language is well suited to being happy, angry, and everything, which makes me wonder what, say, a French person thinks English sounds like. We think French sounds pretty, and lost of people think German sounds angry and cold, and Italian sounds passionate. Makes me wonder what English 'sounds' like.
ReplyDeleteI always wonder that myself. What a non-native-English person thinks when they hear English being spoken
ReplyDeleteYour story is very well done! I liked the hopeful ending that I didn't see coming and had to read through a couple times to pick up on it.
ReplyDeleteI could feel what you related in the story deeply.
I also thought all of these comments are very interesting too. It was fun learning about the story in the French rap. I do think French sounds beautiful.