One reassuring thing about France is its consistency down the years: trains still run mostly on time, coffee in the land of cafes remains undrinkable, and, whatever the season, the intellectual class continues to supply elegant variations on the same theme: France is always about to collapse.
The present mood feels familiar – and fatalism, of course, is a habit in France. At a recent dinner among friends in Paris I was treated to a typically balanced menu: great food and mood, paired with apocalyptic forecasts. After nine years of Emmanuel Macron’s right-leaning rule France stands at the abyss, one guy said, as he cut the head off an asparagus. The country hovers somewhere between civil war and financial bankruptcy, another added, cooling her forehead with a glass of cold white wine.
