what french women know about love, sex and other matters of the heart and mind

i stumbled upon it by accident when i met sandrine in the buttes chaumont park in paris one autumn day. sandrine was a 13-year-old french girl who, among other preoccupations, was enamoured of a boy named pierre. after a short conversation about pierre's abundant qualities (he could, it turns out, recite poems in gaelic), sandrine picked a flower and started pulling off its petals. to my surprise, however, rather than the familiar refrain - 'he loves me, he loves me not' - sandrine carefully intoned: 'he loves me a little, a lot, passionately, madly, not at all.'

i instantly thought that sandrine was one clever little girl until i learnt that, no, this is the standard french refrain. this is how french girls have been thinking about love forever.

debra ollivier

1:38 p.m. - 2010-04-12