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
La femme d'Hector
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Laquelle est la plus belle
La plus aimable parmi
Les femmes de nos amis?
Laquelle est notre vrai nounou
La p'tite sœur des pauvres de nous
Dans le guignon toujours présente
Quelle est cette fée bienfaisante?
C'est pas la femme de Bertrand
Pas la femme de Gontrand
Pas la femme de Pamphile
C'est pas la femme de Firmin
Pas la femme de Germain
Ni celle de Benjamin
C'est pas la femme d'Honoré
Ni celle de Désiré
Ni celle de Théophile
Encore moins la femme de Nestor
Non, c'est la femme d'Hector
Comme nous dansons devant
Le buffet bien souvent
On a toujours peu ou prou
Les bas criblés de trous
Qui raccomode ces malheurs
De fils de toutes les couleurs
Qui brode, divine cousette
Des arcs-en-ciel à nos chaussettes?
C'est pas la femme de Bertrand
Pas la femme de Gontrand
Pas la femme de Pamphile
C'est pas la femme de Firmin
Pas la femme de Germain
Ni celle de Benjamin
C'est pas la femme d'Honoré
Ni celle de Désiré
Ni celle de Théophile
Encore moins la femme de Nestor
Non, c'est la femme d'Hector
Quand on nous prend la main
Sacré bon dieu dans un sac
Et qu'on nous envoie planter
Des choux à la santé
Quelle est celle qui, prenant modèle
Sur les vertus des chiens fidèles
Reste à l'arrêt devant la porte
En attendant qu'on en ressorte?
C'est pas la femme de Bertrand
Pas la femme de Gontrand
Pas la femme de Pamphile
C'est pas la femme de Firmin
Pas la femme de Germain
Ni celle de Benjamin
C'est pas la femme d'Honoré
Ni celle de Désiré
Ni celle de Théophile
Encore moins la femme de Nestor
Non, c'est la femme d'Hector
Et quand l'un d'entre nous meurt
Qu'on nous met en demeure
De débarasser l'hôtel
De ses restes mortels
Quelle est celle qui remue tout Paris
Pour qu'on lui fasse, au plus bas prix
Des funérailles gigantesques
Pas nationales, non, mais presque?
C'est pas la femme de Bertrand
Pas la femme de Gontrand
Pas la femme de Pamphile
C'est pas la femme de Firmin
Pas la femme de Germain
Ni celle de Benjamin
C'est pas la femme d'Honoré
Ni celle de Désiré
Ni celle de Théophile
Encore moins la femme de Nestor
Non, c'est la femme d'Hector
Et quand vient le mois de mai
Le joli temps d'aimer
Que sans écho, dans les cours
Nous hurlons à l'amour
Quelle est celle qui nous plaint beaucoup?
Quelle est celle qui nous saute au cou
Qui nous dispense sa tendresse
Toutes ses économies d'caresses?
C'est pas la femme de Bertrand
Pas la femme de Gontrand
Pas la femme de Pamphile
C'est pas la femme de Firmin
Pas la femme de Germain
Ni celle de Benjamin
C'est pas la femme d'Honoré
Ni celle de Désiré
Ni celle de Théophile
Encore moins la femme de Nestor
Non, c'est la femme d'Hector
Ne jetons pas les morceaux
De nos cœurs aux pourceaux
Perdons pas notre latin
Au profit des pantins
Chantons pas la langue des dieux
Pour les balourds, les fesse-mathieux
Les paltoquets, ni les bobèches
Les foutriquets, ni les pimbêches
Ni pour la femme de Bertrand
Pour la femme de Gontrand
Pour la femme de Pamphile
Ni pour la femme de Firmin
Pour la femme de Germain
Pour celle de Benjamin
Ni pour la femme d'Honoré
La femme de Désiré
La femme de Théophile
Encore moins pour la femme de Nestor
Mais pour la femme d'Hector
The song "La femme d'Hector" by Georges Brassens is about the wife of Hector, who is considered to be the perfect woman by the singer and his friends. The song presents a list of situations where the woman proves to be the most beautiful, caring, and loyal among all the women they know. In the first verse, the singer asks a series of questions to determine which woman is the best among their friends, and the answer is always "the woman of Hector." The second verse focuses on the woman's skills at mending their socks and clothing. The third verse highlights her loyalty as she waits outside the door when one of them is taken away. The fourth verse is about her ability to organize a grand funeral for their deceased friend. The final verse is a call for singing in honor of the perfect wife, but only for her, not for any other women they know.
The song's lyrics illustrate the French chanson tradition, where the lyrics are simple, poetic, and often humorous, and the singers use different tones of voice to convey emotions. The song has been interpreted as a parody of the idealized devoted wife and of the society that expects women to maintain a certain image. The woman in the song is depicted as fulfilling all these expectations, but at the same time, she is the only one who can fulfill them.
Line by Line Meaning
En notre tour de Babel
Among all our female friends, who is the most beautiful and kind?
Laquelle est la plus belle
Among all our female friends, who is the most beautiful and kind?
La plus aimable parmi
Among all our female friends, who is the most beautiful and kind?
Les femmes de nos amis?
Among all our female friends, who is the most beautiful and kind?
Laquelle est notre vrai nounou
Among all our female friends, who takes care of us like a little sister of the poor?
La p'tite sœur des pauvres de nous
Among all our female friends, who takes care of us like a little sister of the poor?
Dans le guignon toujours présente
Among all our female friends, who supports us through thick and thin?
Quelle est cette fée bienfaisante?
Among all our female friends, who is this blessed angel?
C'est pas la femme de Bertrand
It's not Bertrand's wife.
Pas la femme de Gontrand
It's not Gontrand's wife.
Pas la femme de Pamphile
It's not Pamphile's wife.
C'est pas la femme de Firmin
It's not Firmin's wife.
Pas la femme de Germain
It's not Germain's wife.
Ni celle de Benjamin
It's not Benjamin's wife.
C'est pas la femme d'Honoré
It's not Honoré's wife.
Ni celle de Désiré
It's not Désiré's wife.
Ni celle de Théophile
It's not Théophile's wife.
Encore moins la femme de Nestor
It's definitely not Nestor's wife.
Non, c'est la femme d'Hector
It's Hector's wife.
Comme nous dansons devant
When we dance in front of the buffet,
Le buffet bien souvent
When we dance in front of the buffet,
On a toujours peu ou prou
Our stockings always end up riddled with holes,
Les bas criblés de trous
Our stockings always end up riddled with holes,
Qui raccomode ces malheurs
Who mends these misfortunes,
De fils de toutes les couleurs
Of threads of various colors,
Qui brode, divine cousette
Who sews, a divine seamstress,
Des arcs-en-ciel à nos chaussettes?
Rainbows on our socks, perhaps?
Quand on nous prend la main
When we are taken by the hand
Sacré bon dieu dans un sac
And are sent to plant cabbages for our health,
Et qu'on nous envoie planter
And are sent to plant cabbages for our health,
Des choux à la santé
And are sent to plant cabbages for our health,
Quelle est celle qui, prenant modèle
Who among our female friends, takes the example
Sur les vertus des chiens fidèles
Of the virtues of loyal dogs,
Reste à l'arrêt devant la porte
And waits patiently at the door,
En attendant qu'on en ressorte?
Until we come out again?
Et quand l'un d'entre nous meurt
And when one of us dies,
Qu'on nous met en demeure
And we are asked to clear out their belongings from the hotel,
De débarrasser l'hôtel
And we are asked to clear out their belongings from the hotel,
De ses restes mortels
And we are asked to clear out their belongings from the hotel,
Quelle est celle qui remue tout Paris
Who in Paris can move mountains
Pour qu'on lui fasse, au plus bas prix
To arrange for the grandest of funerals at the lowest price,
Des funérailles gigantesques
To arrange for the grandest of funerals at the lowest price,
Pas nationales, non, mais presque?
Almost, if not quite, on a national scale?
Et quand vient le mois de mai
And when May arrives
Le joli temps d'aimer
With its lovely time for love,
Que sans écho, dans les cours
As we shout out love in the courtyards,
Nous hurlons à l'amour
As we shout out love in the courtyards,
Quelle est celle qui nous plaint beaucoup?
Who pities us so greatly?
Quelle est celle qui nous saute au cou
Who throws her arms around our necks,
Qui nous dispense sa tendresse
Who showers us with her tenderness,
Toutes ses économies d'caresses?
All her hard-earned affection?
Ne jetons pas les morceaux
Let us not throw our hearts away
De nos cœurs aux pourceaux
To be trampled on by swine
Perdons pas notre latin
Let us not lose our composure
Au profit des pantins
In front of puppets,
Chantons pas la langue des dieux
Let us not speak in the language of the gods
Pour les balourds, les fesse-mathieux
For fools and asses
Les paltoquets, ni les bobèches
For pretentious fools or simpletons
Les foutriquets, ni les pimbêches
Nor for the arrogant or the snobbish
Ni pour la femme de Bertrand
Not for Bertrand's wife
Pour la femme de Gontrand
Not for Gontrand's wife
Pour la femme de Pamphile
Not for Pamphile's wife
Ni pour la femme de Firmin
Not for Firmin's wife
Pas pour la femme de Germain
Not for Germain's wife
Pour celle de Benjamin
Not for Benjamin's wife
Ni pour la femme d'Honoré
Not for Honoré's wife
La femme de Désiré
Not for Désiré's wife
La femme de Théophile
Not for Théophile's wife
Encore moins pour la femme de Nestor
Least of all for Nestor's wife
Mais pour la femme d'Hector
But for Hector's wife
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: Georges Brassens
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind