Sacr é who?

>> Taras Grescoe's analysis of Quebec culture misses the mark

by JULIET WATERS

As I close Sacr é Blues: An Unsentimental Journey Through Quebec, by Taras Grescoe, a slight chill runs through my blood. Maybe it's just the arrival of fall. But maybe it's something else, a vague fear that stems from the question: who exactly is Grescoe writing this primer on Quebec culture for?

His motives seem as cryptic as the title. "Sacr é bleu" is an expression never used in Quebec except maybe by middle-aged immigrants from France. So the pun, while somewhat clever, is also somewhat off. Of course it might not seem that way to the French-immersion generation outside Quebec. So, is that who he's writing for? Are there others like Taras Grescoe--young Canadians from out West who might move here for a few years and immerse themselves in francophone qu éb écois culture? More importantly, will they snap up the few good, cheap apartments that remain?

Perhaps Grescoe should have paid more attention to Qu éb écois his own age. Apart from an interview with Voir editor Richard Martineau on the subject of Celine Dion, his book seems primarily concerned with the cultural perspective of people a generation older.

It's a weird book that starts with the premise that Quebec is a nice place to live. "There really is a part of this continent where you can bring your own bottle of Beaujolais nouveau to a smoke-filled bistro and watch casually graceful older women greet each other with double-barrelled bisous." And ends with a unfocused prophecy of impending doom centred on how "The Qu éb écois... are starting to display a distressing enthusiasm about their affinities with les Americains." And how this situation may worsen. "The real challenge to Quebec's distinctness will happen as the baby boomers, the most Americanophile, ambitious and materialistic generation ever, assume full political and social power."

Yet despite its implied critique of baby boomers, this book is written with all the charm of a 20-year-old going on 50. Grescoe assumes a tone of authority which he earns from the undeniable amount of research he's done, but which he constantly undermines with messy factual errors and distortions.

No one from the English community, however much they'd like to, would call Saul Bellow "a product of the Montreal literary scene." And sure, there was a time when Montreal's English community could "choose between three major dailies." But does anyone under the age of 60 remember The Montreal Herald (which I can only assume is what Grescoe is referring to since he includes no specifics to explain this statement)? And when he talks about one Quebec foreign correspondent in Paris being far from the joual of his "childhood in Notre Dame de Grace" anyone who grew up in NDG can only laugh.

For a sense of how out of touch Grescoe is with anyone from his own demographic, here's his take on the "Quebec sound": "New wave disco hippies such as Men Without Hats and Mitsou, heavy metal freak shows like the Killer Dwarfs and Voivod, and retrograde stoner groups, notably Grimskunk and Les Colocs, which have persisted long after their godfathers the Red Hot Chili Peppers faded into merited obscurity."

First of all, the Killer Dwarfs are from Oshawa. Second, whether one likes or dislikes Voivod, only a complete snot would call them "a heavy metal freak show." And finally, it's patently absurd to relate Grimskunk to the Chili Peppers, the "merited obscurity" of whom is hardly supported by the North American sales of their latest CD.

One tires of being talked down to by Grescoe, who has spent some time in France, on how there is only one caf é in all of Montreal that reminds one of Paris (Le Figaro in Outremont, which he calls by its old name, La Croissanterie). And in the end one can only conclude that this book is being written largely for the benefit of one person, Taras Grescoe. But as long as there is only one of him, I suppose we have nothing to fear. :

Sacr é Blues by Taras Grescoe, Macfarlane, Walter & Ross, hc, 315pp, $34.99