Conte, rocker, rege

Intamplarea a facut sa fiu in Franta chiar in zilele in care Franta a consacrat, ceremonios, dar décontractée, trecerea in nemurire a doi dintre fiii sai cei mai nobili: Jean d’Ormesson si Johhny Halllyday (bine, d’Ormesson era deja de mult nemuritor, ca membru si decan al Academiei Franceze). In toate cele 4 librarii in care am intrat era un gol la toate standurile de carti intre Michel Onfray si Erik Orsenna; probabil goale erau si standurile cu albumele lui Johhny. Intelectualul vedeta si cantaretul vedeta. Unul nascut in Rive Gauche in arondismentul 7, unul in Rive Droite in 9 (CU TOTUL ALTCEVA!). Unul conte din familie de diplomati cu 5 prenume, altul dintr-o familie simpla déchirée, cu nume inventat pentru a rezona mai usor cu (sacrilège!) importul de rock ‘n’ roll american. Contele insotit pe ultimul drum de academicieni, presedinti si alti membri ai elitei, rockerul de 700 de bikeri (plus inca aproape UN MILION de francezi sur les Champs). Amandoi iubiti unanim, sincer, passionellement, de publicul larg (bine, la ei publicul larg citeste carti) si amandoi reprezentand senin spiritul francez: energic, robust profesional, sofisticat, sentimental, un peu malicieux si, bien evidemment, şarmant.

Pierderea Frantei e mare pentru ca cei doi, alaturi de (putini) altii, erau un simbol al consensului in privinta valorilor, un simbol al acelei forte a unei culturi, a unei tari, de a-si uni concetatenii acasa si de a influenta deciziile altora afara (forta careia putem sa-i spunem, in dulcea limba a lui Molière, Soft Power).

Un astfel de simbol (poate chiar singurul cvasi-unanim acceptat de societate) avea si România in Regele Mihai.

Anunțuri

That’s what makes us great

For more than 40 years, he protested against injustice all over the world. Whenever the system (any system) oppressed the common people, the Midwest workers, the Vietnam veterans, the sexual minorities, he was right behind them. He fought against racial discrimination, poverty in Africa, breaches of Human Rights, nuclear war, bathroom segregation laws and all sort of dictatorships. On 19 July 1988, he said to 300,000 people in East Berlin: „I’ve come to play rock and roll for you, in the hope that one day all barriers will be torn down.” And the barriers were torn down one year later (not to mention that he said it in German).

He refused the millions that Chrysler offered him for the song „Born in the U.S.A.” and told them the principles can’t be sold. He refused to sing in Sin City, the symbol of apartheid, and fought Reagan when this one thought that freedom and other values can be appropriated by politicians for their own purposes.

For more than 40 years, he was there in all the big moments: the racial fights, the recessions, 9/11, the Iraq war. Whenever he felt America and freedom were at risk, he was there. He is 67 now and he received last November the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian distinction in the US. For most people this would be the perfect time to retire. But not for him. He chooses to start it all over again, against Trump this time. Because Bruce Springsteen is, simply, The Boss.