He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. He realized very early however that poetry in the 20th century could hardly put bread on the table and instead set himself to become a singer.
He is much less famous internationally than contemporaries like Charles Aznavour, Edith Piaf and Yves Montand, as much of the impact of his songs came from the lyrics, which proved difficult to translate into other languages. He loved the Middle Ages and used a great deal of Old French vocabulary, as well as many classical - ie., Latin and Greek - references. Few people, even in France, possess the background to fully understand his songs.
Yet he was at the same time a hugely popular singer and many of his songs still carry a lot of appeal and relevance. In this sense, he can be compared to Boris Vian, to Jacques Brel, and to a lesser extent to Serge Gainsbourg.
He was very sophisticated, yet at the same time used profanity liberally. While he wasn't politically engaged, he was nevertheless unambiguously a leftist, many of his songs carrying blatant and buoyant anarchist overtones.
While his music was initially quite primitive, the 1950's St-Germain-des-Pres influence quickly made itself felt and while subdued and - in his mind - always secondary to the lyrics, it became increasingly sophisticated - to the point that many of his songs have been covered and reinterpretated by jazzmen (see for instance this UK site: www.projetbrassens.eclipse.co.uk)
He died in 1981, but up to this date (2006) there are few French people - including most of those born since - who can't sing along to his most famous song, Les Copains d'abord ("Friends foremost") or his "Bancs public" ("Public Benches").
For those interested, this site carries a number of (quite good) English tranlations of his songs: www.brassens.org
Hécatombe
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
À propos de bottes d'oignons
Quelques douzaines de gaillardes
Se crêpaient un jour le chignon
À pied, à cheval, en voiture
Les gendarmes mal inspirés
Vinrent pour tenter l'aventure
D'interrompre l'échauffourée
Or, sous tous les cieux sans vergogne
C'est un usage bien établi
Dès qu'il s'agit de rosser les cognes
Tout le monde se réconcilie
Ces furies perdant tout' mesure
Se ruèrent sur les guignols
Et donnèrent je vous l'assure
Un spectacle assez croquignol
En voyant ces braves pandores
Être à deux doigts de succomber
Moi, je bichais car je les adore
Sous la forme de macchabées
De la mansarde où je réside
J'excitais les farouches bras
Des mégères gendarmicides
En criant "hip, hip, hip, hourra!"
Frénétique l'une d'elles attache
Le vieux maréchal des logis
Et lui fait crier "mort aux vaches
Mort aux lois, vive l'anarchie!"
Une autre fourre avec rudesse
Le crâne d'un de ses lourdauds
Entre ses gigantesques fesses
Qu'elle serre comme un étau
La plus grasse de ses femelles
Ouvrant son corsage dilaté
Matraque à grand coup de mamelles
Ceux qui passent à sa portée
Ils tombent, tombent, tombent, tombent
Et selon les avis compétents
Il paraît que cette hécatombe
Fut la plus belle de tous les temps
Jugeant enfin que leurs victimes
Avaient eu leur content de gnons
Ces furies comme outrage ultime
En retournant à leurs oignons
Ces furies à peine si j'ose
Le dire tellement c'est bas
Leur auraient même coupé les choses
Par bonheur ils n'en avait pas
Leur auraient même coupé les choses
Par bonheur ils n'en avait pas
The lyrics to Georges Brassens's song "Hécatombe" describe a scene at the market in Brive-la-Gaillarde, where a group of women are fighting over onion boots. The fight escalates, and the police arrive to try and stop it. However, instead of stopping the fight, the women turn their aggression on the police and begin attacking them. The singer of the song watches from his attic window and cheers on the women as they beat up the police officers. The women go so far as to strip one of the officers and beat him with his own baton.
The song is a satirical commentary on the power dynamics between the police and the citizens they are supposed to protect. The women in the song are depicted as fierce and powerful, while the police officers are shown as weak and ineffectual. The singer's gleeful response to the violence is meant to highlight the absurdity of the situation and the inherent violence of authority.
Line by Line Meaning
Au marché de Brive-la-Gaillarde
At the market of Brive-la-Gaillarde
À propos de bottes d'oignons
Concerning onion boots
Quelques douzaines de gaillardes
Some dozens of tough women
Se crêpaient un jour le chignon
One day they got into a brawl
À pied, à cheval, en voiture
On foot, on horseback, in a car
Les gendarmes mal inspirés
The poorly inspired police officers
Vinrent pour tenter l'aventure
Came to try and settle the dispute
D'interrompre l'échauffourée
To interrupt the scuffle
Or, sous tous les cieux sans vergogne
But shamelessly, everywhere in the world
C'est un usage bien établi
It's a well-established custom
Dès qu'il s'agit de rosser les cognes
As soon as it is necessary to beat up the cops
Tout le monde se réconcilie
Everyone reconciles
Ces furies perdant tout' mesure
These crazy women losing their temper
Se ruèrent sur les guignols
Attacked the puppets
Et donnèrent je vous l'assure
And put on, I assure you
Un spectacle assez croquignol
A quite amusing show
En voyant ces braves pandores
Seeing these brave cops
Être à deux doigts de succomber
Being on the verge of collapsing
Moi, je bichais car je les adore
I was smiling because I adore them
Sous la forme de macchabées
As corpses
De la mansarde où je réside
From the attic where I reside
J'excitais les farouches bras
I was encouraging the fierce arms
Des mégères gendarmicides
Of the gendarme-cidal women
En criant "hip, hip, hip, hourra!"
Shouting "hip, hip, hip, hooray!"
Frénétique l'une d'elles attache
One of them, frantic, ties up
Le vieux maréchal des logis
The old sergeant
Et lui fait crier "mort aux vaches
And makes him shout "death to the cows
Mort aux lois, vive l'anarchie!"
Death to the laws, long live anarchy!"
Une autre fourre avec rudesse
Another one roughly stuffs
Le crâne d'un de ses lourdauds
The skull of one of her brutes
Entre ses gigantesques fesses
Between her gigantic buttocks
Qu'elle serre comme un étau
Which she squeezes like a vice
La plus grasse de ses femelles
The fattest of these women
Ouvrant son corsage dilaté
Opens up her swollen bodice
Matraque à grand coup de mamelles
Strikes with her big breasts
Ceux qui passent à sa portée
Those who pass by her range
Ils tombent, tombent, tombent, tombent
They fall, fall, fall, fall
Et selon les avis compétents
And according to expert opinions
Il paraît que cette hécatombe
It seems that this carnage
Fut la plus belle de tous les temps
Was the most beautiful of all times
Jugeant enfin que leurs victimes
Finally, judging that their victims
Avaient eu leur content de gnons
Had enough blows
Ces furies comme outrage ultime
These crazies as a final outrage
En retournant à leurs oignons
While going back to their onions
Ces furies à peine si j'ose
These crazies, I almost dare not say it
Le dire tellement c'est bas
Did the basest thing
Leur auraient même coupé les choses
They would have even cut off their manhoods
Par bonheur ils n'en avait pas
Luckily, they didn't have any
Lyrics © WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC FRANCE
Written by: Georges Brassens
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
raymondgoubet
Toujours d'actualité en 2020 et au-dela.
Justin Comte
Brive la Gaillarde et l'anarchie un bon petit mélange qui n'a pas perdurai avec le temps
Charlie Dubois
J'ai pas la traduction mais je m'en fiche .je rêve tout le temps de choses que beaucoup ne comprennent pas . travaillez pour rien .mes rêves vivent chaque instant .bon monde a vous .chacun le sien .