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Over the past two decades, la racaille has become les racailles. Ironically enough, while the phenomenon grew and numbers went exponential, the word left its uncountable shell to become fully countable. One should hold on to whatever seems reassuring.
Une racaille is a small street thug. Une petite frappe. Racailles are sociological delights. Fully identifiable. Just like small children, la racaille needs the entire panoply: ghetto accent, ghetto brands, ghetto accessories, ghetto references and ghetto aggressiveness.
While foreigners see these French thugs with nothing but amusement, Parisians are authentically scared of them. As the Parisian male has lost most of his gender’s attributes over the past three decades, all of the city’s testosterone seems to be held by les racailles.
Running into une racaille on the street thus leads to genuine moments of discomfort for the Parisian. Physical discomfort first. Most Parisian men have never been in a fight and fear la racaille’s verbal and physical brutality. Parisian women dread la racaille’s aggressive and disrespectful ways. Social discomfort also ensues: la racaille embodies France’s cultural and social collapses over the past decades. Best not to dig. La racaille hates and despises the Parisian. While most Parisians cannot fully resolve himself to hating and despising la racaille. Which makes la racaille hate and despise him even more. In the end, la racaille if full of misinformed angers. The Parisian is full of guilty angelism. All in all, lots of emptiness all around.
La racaille makes life in France less enjoyable. Parisians enjoy with parsimony outdoor public gatherings for “c’est plein de racailles“. Newly-formed adjective racailleux describes these high density environments. Areas like Les Champs-Elysées or Châtelet are being deserted by Parisians for they are just too racailleux.
A very limited array of adjectives apply to the word racaille. Young Parisian women disdainfully talk about “petite racaille“, or “petite racaille de merde“. Young Parisian men prefer to talk about “grosse racaille“. More fear. ”Fausse racaille” usually applies to white racailles. There is no being tough if you are white in France. Verlan words caille-ra or caille are also used by younger Parisians who listen to rap. Older Parisians vastly ignore the phenomenon. Depending on their upbringing and political beliefs, they will either talk about “des jeunes“, “des jeunes de banlieue“, ou “des loubards“.
While Parisians know better than to look a racaille in the eyes, they love to make fun of them in the discreet comfort of their little apartments. All Parisians have their own interpretation of ”l’accent racaille“. Sentences pronounced in that accent are usually sprinkled with misused verlan words and awkward ghetto-like gestures. Parisians with zero street cred at that point will start saying “zyva” (vas-y in verlan). Zyva was street 25 years ago. When talking in that accent, Parisians will usually bust a “9-3″ in there: 93 is France’s ghettoest département and Parisians are keen to let you know that they know that.
To crown the collapse of the French woman, many young women from la banlieue become “racaillettes” – just as easily distinguishable and aggressive as their homies and also walking in packs. La racaillisation of French youth is a rampant phenomenon. Direct consequence is the massive spread of a ghetto subculture characterized by a certain hatred of France, and a fascination for le rap, le foot et l’islam.
Parisian’s attitude towards les racailles explains the spread of the phenomenon as much as it announces the future of the country. Parisians are right in the end… they should practise that ghetto accent.
Useful tip: Regular French kids wearing brands like Lacoste or Tommy Hilfiger don’t do it to look like daddy; they do it to look more street.
Sound like a Parisian: “Non, c’était pourri, y avait plein de racailles, on est partis tôt.”
Tags: banlieue, ghetto, Paris, Parisian, racaille, rap, social, violence
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Ah la France!
What I’ve always found endearing about France (I am an Englishman having been brought up in France, having tasted the French education system but also trodden in the small and strange microcosm of British expats in the Yvelines, who have their own very tranchée opinions about the French), is the ability to hold to the power and beauty of reason, and yet refuse to see nuances, shades of grey and compromise.
Funily, if there is one place where testosterone seems to be lacking more than Paris is the quaint bourgeoisie of England. However, there is a great value that has been inherited in British intellectual circles: compromise, happy medium, the proverbial via media.
And this is, it seems, what is greatly lacking from all of the opinions read in this article. Talks of “these people”, generalisations, refusal to see through the mist of opaque opinions is plaguing the intellectual and political discourse of France and has been for years.
I grew up in Seine-St-Denis, got my watch, shoes, basket-ball stolen off me in very unpleasant fashion when I was a kid, and I freaking hated it. But I also made dear friends. Valuable people, who knew what honour meant, who understood the value of family, the sanctity of old age and such. Ours is a consumer culture where we get rid of our parents and send them to retirement homes as soon as they are too much of a bother for us. I’ve seen people commonly depicted as “racailles” cut down on their quality of life to have their elderly dad live with them when they became widows. I’ve learnt generosity from “these people”. I’ve also been hurt by some of them.
So what are we going to do? Give free education, health-care and the like, and let them “traine”, do drugs, and live off the RMI all the while contributing nothing to society? No! Are we going to send them all crashing back to their home lands? No!
Let’s look at individuals, let’s put in place structures that will destigmatise people from poorer backgrounds, let’s see how it so happens that a person with free schooling, free higher-education, free health-care can still end up being a menace to himself and to others. Is it because they are savages who are unable to learn? Your position is suggesting as much! Hateful stuff!!
Let’s get stricter, but let’s also freaking wake up and stop not going to Chatelet because you don’t feel comfy there. What kind of a behaviour is that? It’s irrational. Think of the tens of thousands of people who walk through Chatelet each day. How many muggeries each day? What are the chances of anything bad happening to you.
I like your call for the men to get some steel in their backbones, but please, steel in your backbone does not mean lead in your brain.
I would love to find on the internet a place where solutions and opinions aren’t as “tranchée” as they are. I thought I’d found such a place here: I loved your article, but your comments after the article have bordered on the hateful, and acting out of hate will be counter-productive at best, utterly destructive at worst.
Anyway; your description of people’s imitation of racailles at the end of this article was a classic, and was enough to make this blog a worthwhile read! “zyva!!” I mean really! lol. Just to say, I do also find the ghetto style and attitude risible. I’m not a fan, but I do try to be reasonable in my opinions on these things, not condoning a culture of immorality and a love for violence, hate and fear, but trying hard, amidst the hurts of my childhood, to see beyond the cultural trends to the individual lives at play.