Quattors Juillet fete, 2002, Molinot. Pic Rod Fleming<\/figcaption><\/figure>\nDuring the time of the great Molinot Bastille Days, there was always a theme. Around this, the villagers built the floats, the dances, the decorations. The theme of our very first, in 1994, was Europe. The great European dream had just begun and the Euro was a distant menace. Someone found out that, on the Mercator Projection at least, Molinot was at the precise centre of Europe, as it then was. Even the most sceptical of the horny-handed ones was proud of that, though it were sheer chance.<\/p>\n
Something similar is in the French emotional response to Europe. No matter how awful Europe is and how badly it behaves, one must always be seen to be a good European.<\/p>\n
After all, the logic goes, France is at the heart of Europe. It was our idea. If we were not here, then it could not exist. How could we betray our own? To have voted Le Pen would have been a disgrace, in that light. Voting Macron saved the honour of the nation.<\/p>\n
Macron may be a last roll of the dice. It remains to be seen if he is the hero who can revitalise France and give it the sense of direction that it so badly needs. He will have his work cut out, as De Gaulle did. Yet people here, apparently of all political persuasions, seem prepared to give him a chance. There is a real sense, talking to them, that he could not do worse than his predecessors, and who knows? Perhaps he will do well.<\/p>\n
The French, especially the rural ones, are phlegmatic and rarely enthusiastic. ‘Oh, bah,’ the upturned hands, downturned lip and shrugged shoulders are about as impassioned a declaration of confidence as Macron is likely to get; but still, he is getting that, round here at least.<\/p>\n