Some of you may be following the presendential election happening right now in France, the second round of which will be between François Hollande and the sitting president, Nicholas Sarkozy. If you are in the English speaking world, you will be interpreting this through brief news clips and some statistics, likely receiving a tiny fraction of the real goings-on in this country to which we are so tied, and yet from which we are often repelled.
My friends in France shared this piece in Le Monde with me about the entire election as seen through the eyes of a single man, Bruno Lafeuille, a 53 year-old wine store owner who is shutting his business down while simultaneously considering an election that will affect his country’s future. I thought this piece was really poignant, a way to show how most people in the industrialized world are sharing many of the same experiences – career disappointments, the effect of weird values in the banking industry, a revisiting of assumptions, a bit of everything. This man is shutting down his wine shop and shelling out cash to get a certificate to be an ambulance driver. And instead of voting for the right-wing, like he normally does, he’s voting Communist, of all things.
The story is fascinating, so I have translated it in its entirety into the English language. Enjoy.
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The life behind the vote
(Originally posted at http://avallon.blog.lemonde.fr/2012/04/21/une-vie-dans-un-vote/)
This is not a polling sample. Nor a case study. Nor even a special report. More like a bit of serendipity. Just a man you meet who suddenly just sets to talking. A citizen who, on April 22 and May 6, will go vote because he “has always voted” which he considers “a point of honor.” It’s the mysterious alchemy of a single vote, one that shakes up preconceived notions, defies sociological analysis, and which goes far beyond statistics.
In the envelope that, along with millions of others, Bruno Lafeuille, 53, a voter in Avallon, France, will slip into the urns Sunday, there will be a sort of chemical precipitate, if you will, of “major” issues in current affairs: the Crisis, banks, debt, the environment, employment, unemployment, business, renewal, education, illness, values, consumption, taxes, citizenship. But also: trials and tribulations, friendship, small pleasures, stops and starts, anger, and hope.

Additional details about this chance meeting: discussion of the presidential campaign was far, far away. Bruno was getting ready to attend his weekly singing lesson. When he was little, people always told him he had “a beautiful voice,” and it was he who always pushed the family to have singalongs. Time went by, and music remained his great passion. He has been singing classical music in a choir for a decade or so. He’s a tenor, and his eyes light up when he talks about his music professor and about Requiem de Fauré, listens to Pavarotti’s version of Nessum Dorma on infinite repeat, loves show tunes, plays in a rock band with his buddies, and even does a bit of community theater.
When we ask him what he does for a living, he says, “wine shop owner.” Then, stopping suddenly, his regard gets more distant and he says, “Well, I guess I should say I was a wine shop owner. Because in a few days, I’m closing up shop for good.”
And this was when the dam started to give way, a flood of words that we could scarcely interrupt or get a question in edgewise, words to be taken as they were. And as such, We wanted to pass them along.
“I went back to see my banker, and he wouldn’t work with me. It’s over. I went to get my bankruptcy documents in order. I’m going to do my best to pay my small suppliers, the winemakers who trusted me, and who, like me, are just trying to squeak by. The others, hey, too bad, I don’t have any choice. A few weeks ago, I thought I could make it out of this. My banker authorized 1000 euros because I had the place up for sale, and I had some guys interested in buying me out. The buyout package was signed for the amount of 25,000 euros. The buyer were owners of a house in the Paris suburbs, they wanted to sell it, and so they need a loan while they waited. Their bank refused, and the buyout fell through. Then, my banker said he could no longer arrange for lines of credit. I owe around 15,000 euros. That’s both a lot and not that big a deal when you consider I do around 120,000 euros of business per year before taxes. But since I can no longer buy stock, I can’t sell anything, so neither can I pay back my lines of credit.”
“These days, bankers are only interested in these enormous structures, because there are jobs to save, and they know there will be government subsidies. But Bruno Lafeuille, from Caves de la Halle in Avallon, who has no employees other than himself, nobody gives a damn. And that’s why I’m angry – bitter, even.”
“Banks are no longer doing their jobs. We have got to separate out commercial banking and speculation. And I’m tired of fighting it. Whatever people say right now, we’re screwed. Before, if you wanted a loan for 5000 euros, they offered you 10,000, telling you that the interest rate was much better. So people took it. It’s like telling a little kid not to eat sugar and then sticking an enormous cake under his nose. So he eats it, gets sick, and throws up. But we don’t care, because it least he was ‘consuming’ something. And when he’s in too much debt, we cut him loose.”
“Before all this, I was a car salesman. We had people walk in who wanted to buy these crazy expensive cars. And we looked at their income and said, ‘Are you sure you might not like a different model, or even something used?’ They told me they were going to take out a loan. And we would set the loan up for them since the dealership got a cut of the action. That’s why I quit. I no longer wanted to sell people cars through debt.”
“After that, I opted for a change of lifestyle and I got a professional certificate from the local training center to get an apprenticeship working the vineyards. I did that for seven years, in Vézelay and at Saint-Bris-le-Vineux, organic wineries. But there, it was my back that gave out, and the opportunity presented itself to run a wine shop.”
“If I have to shut everything down tomorrow, I’m not saying that it’s entirely the fault of the banks. It’s my fault, too – I surely could have managed the place better. And then there was just the hand of fate. My wife who worked with me – she was the accountant – got very sick. Cancer. We got divorced, and I met someone, a soprano, but during the ten months of her illness, I took care of her, gave her all her shots. We had some beautiful moments together, we talked, we forgave each other, and she died in the hospital in my arms. That was back in November 2010, and that is likely why work was pretty tough.”
“I’m angry with consumers today. I see these people who say, ‘Oh wow, you’re closing, that’s too bad! Yet one more small business shutting down.’ And I say back them, ‘Sure it’s sad, but you’re going to Auchan supermarket a whole lot more than you’re coming to see me. So I’m not asking you to buy all of your wine from me, but you ought to think about what you’re saying here, you know?’ And people are all talking about making small business work, buy local, eat organic – but they don’t put their money where their mouth is! What I don’t understand in France is how everybody gives these great speeches, but then their actions don’t match up at all.”
“It’s true, I’m bitter. Because I’m not a crook. That’s what I told the bankers: I’m honest, I don’t have a giant SUV parked out in front of the store, I’m not taking all my lunches in restaurants, I don’t go on vacation all of the time. I manage my shop, probably not great, but like the father of any family. And you guys go and treat me like I’m some kind of crook.”
“There’s also this image of the small businessman, who in the minds of a lot of people is rich guy who is getting a lot of his money under the table. I invite all of those people to come look at my books, and those of my friends next door, who are all working their butts off.”
“So I’m changing careers once again. Since I was a volunteer firefighter for ten years, I’m going to switch over to being an ambulance driver. But now, to drive an ambulance, you have to get your certification. I took the training to get it, which ran me 650 euros straight out of my pocket. Since this is a job retraining, I don’t have the same rights to get help from the state unemployment office.”
“With that, I should find some work. With ambulances, there is a lot of demand right now, since the country is aging and the health of this place is changing along with it. Hospitals are getting further away from people, which means you need transportation, so there’s plenty of work. So that’s what I have to do. Especially me, at 53 years old, there’s nobody in a company looking to hire someone like me. Luckily, I also have a backup plan besides ambulance and rescue. I’m going back to school, too. I’m going to get an ambulance driver diploma so I can specialize in night shifts and make a little more money that way.”
And at that moment, we invited the presidential campaign into the discussion.
“I was born in Neuilly to a family that was pretty well off. I had a golden childhood. I went on vacation, I was always well cared for, I wanted for nothing. When I made it to voting age, I went along with my parents and voted for the right-wing. I kept it up. In 2007, I voted for Sarkozy. I believed in him. I thought we were going to get to work and see the benefits of our labor. In 2007, that’s when I really went out on my own, launching my wine shop. But Sarkozy, man, that’s over and done with.”
“There was a moment when I really believed in François Bayrou. I said to myself, ‘Finally, a guy that is like me. We’re going to move forward.’ Because I think there are good ideas on the right and good ideas on the left, and I always wondered why we didn’t meet in the middle for the good of the country. But I quickly figured out that Bayrou was nothing but an opportunist. Anyhow, that’s how he seemed to me. First he was more left, then he went more right. He’s playing both angles, flip-flopping, and that I don’t like.”
“I think it’s the system that has to change. We can’t keep going like this. I went to see Mélénchon, the Leftist Front candidate. At first, I never imagined that one day, I would vote for a guy like that. I mean, there’s the whole thing with the Communists, the Soviet Union, millions of dead. And in his program, there are things I don’t like. He’s kind of recruiting for a movement, a populist. But he’s the guy who said things I wanted to hear.”
We bring up Marine LePen, the ultra-right National Front candidate. “She, too, says some things that you’d like to see brought up.”
“Marine LePen, I gotta say… [making hand gestures of hesitation, weighing two things against each other] Me, I am a Frenchman. And I don’t want that word misinterpreted. I think, for example, that when you live in a country, you should live by its rules. So with LePen, there are things that I like. But there are a bunch that put me off as well. I was a volunteer firefighter, so I’m somebody who just loves people. So extremism, I just don’t dig it.”
We ask him how he will vote in the second round of voting May 6.
“I’m going all the way. I’m voting Left. Because I’m trying to be logical and I want things to change. I don’t really believe in it, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
Just one man, one vote – but the breadth of an entire life will be in that envelope.