“Introduction” (to Sabine Chalvon-Demersay, Le triangle du XIVe, 2nd edition,
Paris:Métailée1999, originally published in French.)
Le triangle du XIVe, a small area near Montparnasse, saw, during the period in
which Sabine Chalvon-Demersay studied it, a substantial change in its population
and, with that, a substantial change in almost every other aspect of its
organization and functioning. This experience is no different from that of
thousands of similar areas in large cities everywhere in Europe and North
America, at least, and no doubt elsewhere as well. In any country where people
are free to move, within the substantial limitation of what they can afford to
pay for their housing, small areas of the city will go through a continuous
metabolic process. Elements — people, organizations, enterprises — leave,
elements enter. After each entrance or exit, the mixture of elements that
compose the whole has changed slightly. After a great many entrances and exits,
the area has changed significantly.
This is to speak like a mathematician, for whom the specific character of the
entities coming and going is of little importance, as long as they can be sorted
into types. For such a mathematical analysis, it might be sufficient to say that
there are, for instance, old people and young people or women and men, or
members of this class or that, in these proportions and, if we lose two percent
of the older (or the women or the bourgeoisie) and gain a similar number of the
younger (or the men or the working class) during each time period, at the end of
so many periods the distribution of people in the population will be thus-and-such.
Some readers will perhaps appreciate the complexities such an analysis produces,
when the number of types and the kinds of changes that are possible is increased.
(McPhee 1963)
Urban movement and change inevitably bring together groups of differing
cultures. The subgroups of an urban population not only differ by age, gender,
and class, they differ in their cultures as well. They share well-defined ideas
of what they want from their immediate surroundings, what they want those
surroundings to look, feel, smell, and sound like. They have a, perhaps not
fully explicit, sense of how they want to live, and they evaluate potential
homes according to how easily they will be able to live their preferred life
style there. When a new group, with ideas about how to live that differ from
those of the existing population, moves into an area, the area begins to change,
as the ways of life of the new population become part of the environment for
those who are already there.
So le triangle du XIVe changed as the “intellos” discovered that it was a place
that felt to them like “un vrai village,” containing the artisans and working
people “intello” politics advised them to get close to. It had the further
advantage of being near many other places they wanted to be (leading to the
paradox Chalvon-Demersay remarks, in which they want to live in a particular
place because, if you live there, it is so easy to be somewhere else), and was
not as expensive as the Quartier Latin from which most of them were moving.
Perhaps most importantly, it was a place where the older population was dying
and moving away, leaving vacant apartments to be filled by the newcomers.
But many of the older population remained, and they too had ideas about what
they wanted the quartier to be like. The cultures of the two groups differed on
many points, and these differences had consequences for the life of the quartier.
To begin with, socially differentiated groups differ in their consumption
patterns. The newcomers have different tastes in food and so, as they arrive in
the area, the local shops and restaurants begin to change what they sell. The
boulanger who has been there for thirty years has to compete with a newcomer who
boasts that his bread is made without the help of gas or electricity, since it
baked over a wood fire. The new customers appreciate that subtle difference, and
what is a problem for one boulanger is an opportunity for another. This story is
repeated many times over.
More importantly, the two populations differ in many of the small routines of
daily life. Women hang their “intimate laundry” to dry in places where it can be
seen by their neighbors or they walk around their own apartments nude (though
perhaps an outline of their bodies can be seen through a translucent window),
and thus scandalize their older bourgeois neighbors. The newcomers receive
guests at all hours of the day and night. They make noises of a different kind
and at different times than the older population. They are not responsive to the
subtle hints that used to suffice to remind neighbors of the behavior that is
considered proper (just as the older population is not responsive to the way the
newcomers try to accomplish the same task).
So the new neighborhood reveals itself as less friendly and village-like than
the newcomers had hoped. They find themselves experiencing unexpected small
conflicts and social rebuffs. They imagine that they are more integrated into
the neighborhood than they actually are, that the proprietor of the bistro on
the corner is their “friend” because he buys them a coffee (while, in fact, he
does it as a routine business strategy and actually has no idea who they are).
For these and other reasons, they feel a little unwelcome and try to change the
makeup of the area by helping their own friends move into apartments that become
vacant. That alters the proportions of old and new in the population still
further. This has the paradoxical and, for them, unpleasant consequence that the
quartier begins to look like the one they left because they wanted a more
authentic urban experience among the “real people.” Now they complain that, as
they walk down the street, everyone looks just like them, that the stores are
just like the ones in the fancier parts of the city, and (worst of all) that the
price of living in this rapidly changing area is increasing. That occurs not
only because the new look of the area attracts an even more affluent class, but
also because some of their own group, successful in their work, start to make
more money, while others inherit money and now can afford not only to rent at
the new prices but also to buy apartments formerly beyond their reach.
I have left out much, almost all, of the subtle detail that distinguishes
Chalvon-Demersay’s analysis. Readers can and should follow the intricate
argument themselves. I want now to indicate some of the analytic tools she uses
to arrive at this subtle understanding of the process of urban change, tools
which can be used beyond this specific case, so that the book serves as, in
Thomas Kuhn’s (1970) expression, an exemplar on which further studies can be
modeled.
The analysis, to begin with, is comprehensive. It does not focus on this or that
set of actors in the drama to the exclusion of the others. It is not a study of
the newcomers alone. It looks with equal interest on the people who were there
when the change began. It is not a study of the inhabitants alone. It looks with
equal interest on the shopkeepers. It is not a study of attitudes alone, though
attitudes and beliefs and ideas are accounted for. It looks with equal interest
on material objects and their functions (how the decoration of a mailbox serves
as a sign of the social and political category of the people who get their mail
there and therefore on their potential as possible friends); on practices of
daily living (doing the laundry, cleaning the house); on people’s convivial
activities (who can and will be invited, with what kind of warning, and with
what kinds of understandings as to what will happen, to what kind of informal
social event); on the practices that govern the relations of voisinage (who
informally accepts what kinds of responsibilities for another’s household,
whether it is accepting deliveries, letting in repairmen, or dealing with
unattended children).
The analysis is also sequential. It does not, in the fashion of so many analyses
of social phenomena, proceed as though things happen all at once. It does not
assume that a variety of “variables” exert their effects by simply combining
into some sort of vector of forces which then “produces” a result. Instead, the
analysis suggests that social change consists of many small events, repeated,
which happen in sequence, each stage of the sequence creating the conditions for
the next steps to occur. An important example of this is Chalvon-Demersay’s
analysis of how the first wave of “intellos,” having taken partial possession of
the quartier, induce the changes I referred to earlier, which begin to turn it
into the kind of place they no longer feel at home in. This is what it means to
study “process” seriously: to identify the stages of change in the thing we are
studying and to see how and why they succeed each other as they do.
Being sequential leads, in a way that seems natural and even inevitable, to
being historical. That is, to situating the events of this relatively small
change in the urban landscape in sequences of events that cover longer time
periods (the period since Haussman changed the city so dramatically), noting the
way events taking place at other times have created the conditions for the
change studied here. The events of 1968 thus enter the story naturally as one of
the major sources of the ideas and desires and tendencies to affiliate of the
newcomers to the quartier.
Similarly, the analysis leads in the same natural way to the consideration of
larger spaces. The city of Paris is seen as the larger board on which the game
of social mobility and the search for a place to live take place, the XIVe and
this small part of it being judged by the people involved in relation to the
other opportunities available for housing and social display.
All this means that the analysis here presented is, in the manner of the best
social science work, deeply involved in the particulars of this story, in
exactly what has happened, down to the smallest and seemingly most trivial
details, and simultaneously relevant to the largest sociological and political
issues of contemporary urban life. We know all about the possibilities and
disappointments of the people who live in this section of the XIVe, their hopes
and fears for their children, their shopping habits, the cushions on the floor
of the apartment. And we know why these are important in the daily lives of the
inhabitants.
At the same time, we see more general processes at work, the abstract social
forms of which these cushions and these children are the specific embodiments in
this time and place. We see how differences in economic position, however
expressed, lead to the disintegration of what had been a solidary social group.
We learn that modifications in the balance of different population groups lead
to shifts in judgments of the desirability of housing. We learn how the
fulfilling of a dream leads to its destruction. These processes occur in a
multitude of urban settings in modern societies and we learn from the detailed
dissection of them, as they work themselves out in the specific case of the
XIVe, what to look for elsewhere. We do not expect to find the same details
everywhere, but we can expect to find the same general relations between
differentiated population groups and the historical situation in which they
intersect. We know that we must look, in any new situation of urban change we
study, for the specific, perhaps quite different, details that embody the same
general processes we now know well enough to recognize in new clothing.
The book, finally, is distinguished by its wit, by its ironic appreciation of
the paradoxical situation these people have gotten themselves into, of the way
their own activities provoke exactly the outcome they do not want to happen. We
can hope that more social scientists will profit by this example to learn that
wisdom need not be dull, nor insight a bore.
References
Kuhn, Thomas. 1970. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University
of Chicago Press.
McPhee, William. 1963. Formal Theories of Mass Behavior. Glencoe: Free Press.
Academic year 2008/2009
© a.r.e.a./Dr.Vicente Forés López
© Paula Jiménez de la Iglesia
paujide@alumni.uv.es
Universitat de València Press