A Revival of the Archaic

My host father is descended from a long line of nobles, and his family has owned for many years, a "small" 17th century chateau in the countryside, about an hour north of Nantes. The chateau is a national monument, open to the public most of the year and can be rented out for marriages, etc. For now, Geoffroy's uncle, Count Loik and his family, live in the chateau and maintain it, as well as the surrounding park grounds, which are often used for hunting.

When we first got there, I was introduced to Loik, his two sons and their wives and children, as well as some of his son's friends. They hunted during the morning while Veronique showed me the chateau, and then after we met for lunch I walked with the hunters for the remainder of the day.

Geoffroy getting ready to hunt.

Now, the southern side of my extended family lives for hunting. I once spent an enthralling weekend walking through cornfields in South Dakota with my semi-crazy grandpaw while he blasted the hell out of any unlucky pheasant that happened to cross his path. But French hunting is a world of its own. They get about 20 people, line up and walk straight through a section of forest, shooting at anything they happen to see. Two or three hunters will stand the end, so if any poor beast tries to escape, it's caught immediately.

I kind of have a problem with hunting in general, and I really have a problem with this. But I went along so that I can have something besides Obama to argue about with my grandpaw at Christmas this year.

After the hunt, we returned to the chateau for showers and aperatifs, which we took in a room fancier than any one I've ever been in. Over champagne in crystal glasses, Loik, Geoffroy and I argued about abortion (it was right at about this moment how heavily Catholic this family is), but, we left the conversation still friends. While we were in there, Eglentine (the wife of one of Loik's sons) arrived with a massive platter of small sandwiches, and with her, a large party of 20-somethings arrived, all carrying bottles of whiskey, wine, and Coke.

The room we took our aperatifs in. I took this photo standing next to the grand piano.

Suddenly, Loik and Geoffroy had disappeared, and I was standing awkwardly in a room filled with about 13 over-wealthy 20 somethings, all wearing ridiculous tweed jackets, Ralph Lauren, and hunting boots. I thought, 'French people my age! I should try to make friends." But they wanted nothing to do with me, so I left to find Geoffroy and Veronique, to wait for dinner.

At about 11 pm. we finally had dinner with the group of rich assholes, Loik, Veronique, Geoffroy, et moi. The dinner was glorious, and lots of wine was passed around, and all of a sudden, everyone started talking to me. No, not talking, more like making fun of me for being American. So I made fun of them back, saying things like, "Oh la la! I'm soo French." They loved it, and everyone including Veronique and Loik, laughed.

"...et, courant comme un mendiant sur les quais de marbre, je la chassais..."

Aube, par Rimbaud.

It was an interesting weekend.