07-10-2020, 11:42 AM
To viewers of American television and film, France is a whimsical country, full of women in summer dresses riding bikes, the baskets of which are piled high with cheeses and freshly-baked batons of bread. Elderly men gather in the dusty town square to play boules and petanque, laughing as they sip on a glass of Pernod. Small children play while dogs and small farm animals roam freely in the fields, the afternoon sun causing proceedings to be covered by an indistinct haze.
Yes, this is the France that is sold, a romantic notion of a place without the social issues that plague most other societies. Wouldn't everything be easier if you could sit in the evening with a glass of beaujolais as the sun dips below the horizon, the vast Atlantic ocean stretched before you? The smell of fresh pastry wafting down the street from the boulangerie in the morning would surely put you in a positive mood each day, don't you agree?
Underneath this facade though, lies something entirely different. Crime and intolerance are rife, as they are seemingly everywhere else. The town square so idyllic by day becomes a dark and dangerous place where cash changes hands for drugs and people. The delights provided by the baker definitely extending beyond those consisting of eggs, flour and sugar.
This is reality.
Some people can see this, some can't, and some wilfully choose not to.
Those who can, live in a perpetual state of despondency, lamenting the reality they inhabit, yet powerless to change it.
Those who can't, have the opposite outlook, pinching themselves and not quite believing their luck; soon enough that state will change, though.
As for the third group, it's hard to understand why they fool themselves, their inner voice shouting to distract from what their eyes are seeing, their ears are hearing. Does this self-deception get them through the day? Does it give them some hope to cling on to, hoping that good times are near? Do they think things couldn't possibly be as bad as they are?
Or is it something more simple, a base need for self-preservation?
After all, admitting what they know, what they can feel, deep down in their core, means that they have to deal with it, to confront the fact that they have no choice but to deal with the hand they've been dealt.
~~~~~
The Collector is fresh.
He's coming off a big win.
He's destined for great things.
His life is red wine and croissants in the sunshine.
Evan Jackson is the town square after dark.
Reality wins.
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