It is yet one more measure of
the vast differences exisiting between two nations – geographically divided by
just a narrow stretch of shallow brine but, mentally, deep oceans apart – that what
is a veritable institution on one side of the Channel, is totally unknown on
the other. So, for the benefit of our Anglo-Saxon readers the Froggy in us will
begin with a brief explanation of the etymology of the term ‘le Système D’, followed by a
definition, along with some examples of its modus
operandi in daily life.
Now, my non-French-speaking
Anglophone readers will certainly have realized that, in regard to the word système,
the two languages converge so closely that deleting the grave accent and the last
letter leaves us with an English word meaning ‘a scheme, or plan of procedure’. But it’s the capitalized fourth letter of the
alphabet which imparts that same French flavour to the expression as garlic
does to a roast leg of lamb when pushed in near to the bone: for this ‘D’
represents the initial letter of the commonly-used reflexive verb se
débrouiller, literally meaning ‘to disentangle’ or to ‘extricate oneself.’
You unimaginative,
sheep-like, stick-to-the-rule Anglo-Saxons tend to adopt a submissive attitude
towards those relatively minor obstacles which everyday life, at some moment or
other, inevitably places in our path. These little problems may be of a practical
nature, can be caused by rules and regulations, or by those officially
appointed to make sure they are applied. In contrast, the more creative,
individualistic Frenchman has developed what is termed ‘le Système D’ – an implicit,
institutionalized anti-code, perhaps not always perfectly licit, but never more
than marginally detrimental to others, which relies on the ingenuity and
resourcefulness of each to improvise an immediate solution. De plus, ‘être débrouillard’ is a
positively-perceived trait, an attribute it is considered desirable to possess
when confronted with life’s daily hassles and, as such, a quality which French
parents encourage in their offspring.
In its most rudimentary form, le
Système D consists in improvising a practical solution to a concrete problem
by adapting any material at hand. Let me illustrate this by two examples. A few
summers ago, I spent a couple of weeks’ holiday on the Côte d’Azur. Now,
in view of the long journey ahead and the likelihood of
encountering dense traffic on the way, I decided to set off well before dawn. However,
while loading up my car of that time, an old 2CV, I realized I’d forgotten
to remove the many insects that had come to a sticky end on the windscreen over
the previous days.
‘I’ll go and get the window
spray,’ I said to my Englishman. On coming back I directed the nozzle
towards the glass and applied my right forefinger to the button. Nothing
happened.
‘The bloody thing’s U.S.,’ he muttered
in dismay. ‘What the heck are we going to do?’
‘Ne t’en fais
pas, mon vieux !’ I replied. ‘On va se débrouiller!’ – ‘Don’t worry, old
chap ! We’ll sort something out!’
Being slow-on-the-uptake, what my English part didn’t realize was that the same, even better results can be
obtained, totally free of charge, simply by using a few sheets of newspaper, a
drop of water, and a bit of elbow grease. Soak the newspaper in the water, rub
away and squashed insects disappear like magic!
‘Elémentaire, mon cher Watson!’
On another occasion, a rather
more serious problem enabled me to come up with a more daringly imaginative
application. I was driving us along with Priscille, our girl friend of that
time, when a red warning light started flashing on the dashboard of that same
old 2CV. Of course, I pulled up immediately, jumped out and proceeded to lift
up the bonnet. It didn’t take long to see where the problem lay. The fan belt
had chosen that moment to come apart. Now, as our more mechanically-minded
readers will know, this type of breakdown, while not being a disaster in
itself, would have made any further attempt at motorized advancement liable to
seriously compromise the future health of the engine. So, I had to find a
makeshift solution to get us as far as the nearest garage.
‘Oh, shit!’ said my
‘Ne t’en fais pas, mon vieux!’ I
replied without the slightest hesitation. ‘Il n’y a pas
de problème. On va se débrouiller.’
Needless to say, I’d already found a solution.
Now, the armour of Priscille’s virtue constituted an impenetrable shield
against every conceivable type of incursion, whatever form it came in, whatever
direction it came from, and whatever part it was aimed at, and I had to use all
my charm to get her to divest herself of her tights (after all, weren’t we in a
tight spot?). But the rest was plain sailing. After twisting them into a rope, I
knotted them round the pulleys of the dynamo, and hey presto! two minutes later
we were breezing along again. C’est ça, le Système D!
