Tuesday was Bastille Day. Morning Edition always does this thing for Bastille Day where they play some awesome, bombastic French music from the Revolutionary period, usually performed by Edith Piaf, which – even though it was written before the city of Memphis existed as such – contains such proletarian fervor that it has the unmistakable swagger of straight-ahead rock and roll.
It always makes me happy, especially to hear “La Marseillaise” as I’m pulling on to the most insane and frustrating stretch of highway, like I do every morning. To remember, while being angry at other drivers, that the French National Anthem is a song about soldiers slitting the throats of their enemies’ wives and sons is enough to put my moderate rage back in check.
So it’s awesome, right, this whole NPR Bastille Day thing? Sure, until Renée Montagne does what she does every Bastille Day, and pronounces her name “Renée Montagne.”
Well, okay, I guess that difference doesn’t show up in print. But uh, she says a French name as though she were French. I think it’s supposed to be clever, rather than, I don’t know, something you’d do if you saw a foreign-looking name and thought there was a good chance that that person actually was foreign. Steve Inskeep said saying his name like he grew up in Carmel, Ind., made him boring.
It’s not Steve Inskeep that’s boring. It’s Renée’s little ‘joke’ that’s boring. And obvious. And as a result, way less funny than Steve’s laughter made it sound. Which was a little weird.
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